“You can ’t force someone to get help, ” Gil says, his voice heavy. “But you also can ’t give up on someone you love.”
“I know!”
Gil moves closer. He smells like mint and soap. “Have you had any more visions of her?”
“Two.” I hesitate. I ’m not sure how much to tell him. “I saw her husband talking to a doctor about me. He said my visions are just hallucinations from a lack of oxygen.”
“What?” Gil frowns. “You don ’t believe him, do you?”
“It did make me wonder if it ’s my brain ’s way of telling me none of my visions are real.”
Gil grabs my arm. “But you saw Inez planning suicide when even Nana and I didn ’t. Don ’t let some jerkwad make you doubt yourself.”
I half nod and Gil lets my arm go.
“Wait—did you say you had two more visions? Since yesterday? Does that mean you had two more asthma attacks?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So are you okay?” Gil asks, his brown eyes showing concern.
When Mom asks me that, I just want her to leave me alone. But somehow I don ’t mind it coming from Gil. I almost like it. “Yeah, I ’m fine. No big deal.”
“Your attack yesterday didn ’t look like ‘no big deal.’”
“That was nothing! I had a worse one last night.”
“You ’ve gotta take care of yourself, Kate. Your visions, they ’re important—but they don ’t mean anything if you don ’t survive.”
“You think I don ’t know that?” I clench my teeth. “It ’s not like I had the attack on purpose!” Though, in the back of my mind, I wonder. I did forget my nightly medication…and I was worried about Jenna. I wanted to know more.... And then, when I didn ’t get the information I needed, I tried to extend the attack, not shorten it.
“Okay, okay! I ’m sorry, ” Gil says. “Let ’s try to figure out how to help your sister.”
“Yeah, ” I say, crossing my arms. “Let ’s.”
“Hey, ” Gil says. “I just want to help.”
I uncross my arms and sigh. “In one of the visions, Mason killed her.” My voice shakes. “He didn ’t mean to, but that ’s what he did.”
Gil stares at me. “We have to stop him!”
I love that we . It makes me feel stronger. “It happens today—at two-forty-five.” I take a deep breath. “I ’m going to get out of school early and go bang on her door, and make them let me in. I hope that ’ll change what happens.” It has to.
“You really should call the police, ” Gil says.
I look at him miserably. “I can ’t . Besides, they ’d never believe me.”
Gil sighs. “Fine. But I ’m coming with you.”
“How will you get out of class?”
“Let me worry about that. I ’ll be there. What time are you leaving?”
“I don ’t want to go too early, because if I get there before Mason starts hurting her, he could just wait until I ’m gone and then end up killing her anyway.” I ’m talking too fast, but I can ’t slow down. It ’s like if I say it fast enough, it won ’t come true. “But if I can get there just before he...he does it, maybe it ’ll change things enough so it won ’t happen.”
“Makes a weird kind of sense, I guess, ” Gil says.
“I ’m going to get there by two-thirty, just to be safe. Which means I need to leave at two—fifteen.”
“Good, ” Gil says, nodding. He looks at me a long moment, his gaze flitting to my lips, then back to my eyes. He leans so close I can smell the mint on his breath.
His lips look soft and kissable. I lean a little closer, narrowing the space between us. It makes it all seem more normal, somehow. Less crazy and less awful. “Kiss me , ” I tell him silently.
The school bell rings.
“Come on, ” Gil says. “We don ’t want to be late.”
I don’t know if he really wanted to kiss me or if I was just projecting my desire onto him.
I sigh and follow him inside, trying to ignore the dread building up inside me. This has to work. I can ’t let Jenna die.
SEVEN
All through my classes, I can ’t stop worrying about Jenna—whether I ’ll be able to stop Mason from killing her, or whether he ’ll just try it again some other day. I don ’t know how to do this right—if there even is a right way. I ’m just grateful Gil will be with me. Maybe together, we ’ll be able to save both our sisters.
I shift on the hard chair, trying to tune into Mr. Santos ’s mumbly voice as he drones on about algebra. He paces in front of the whiteboard as he talks, stabbing at the figures with his marker, but I can hear the boy behind me snoring quietly. I take a page out of my notebook, rip it into a square, and start folding a butterfly. If Jenna knew what was going to happen today, she ’d leave Mason. But there ’s no way I can convince her, not without letting it happen.
How do I keep it from happening again and again? If I stop Mason today, will that be the end of it, because he didn ’t mean it to happen? And how will I know if she ’s in danger again without having another vision? I fold my paper even faster. If I trigger another attack, I might see something that ’ll help her. But Gil ’s right—I can ’t help her if I ’m dead.
And Jenna’s not the only one who needs help. Gil ’s sister Inez needs people to care about her. To intervene.
A shadow falls over my desk. I look up to see Mr. Santos watching me.
“Did you understand the lesson?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is something bothering you?”
“No, sir.”
Mr. Santos plucks the folded butterfly from my hands. “Then get to work, please.”
I bend over my notebook and start writing down numbers. Mr. Santos watches for a moment before he moves on. But it ’s not enough to keep me from worrying.
I keep checking my watch. Two o ’clock, five after two. The seconds tick by agonizingly slowly. I can ’t stop worrying that I ’m timing it wrong. At two-ten I start coughing and force a wheeze.
Mrs. Pacelli , always alert, comes to my desk. She touches my shoulder reassuringly. “Do you need to go to the nurse?” she asks.
I nod, feeling guilty about lying to her. I hope she doesn ’t remember that today ’s the nurse ’s day off.
“All right, ” she says. “Lorna, will you go with her?”
“I can go myself, ” I say. But Mrs. Pacelli insists.
Lorna and I walk through the halls together. I cough a few times to keep up appearances, but not very hard. I don ’t want to trigger a real attack.
When we get close to the nurse ’s office, I turn to Lorna. “I can take it from here.”
“Oh, but look—the nurse isn ’t in!” Lorna says. “I better take you to the office.”
Shit. “It ’s just down the hall. Really, Lorna, I ’m okay.”
“It ’s no bother, ” Lorna says and smiles.
I know she’s just being nice, but I want to scream. I check my watch. Two fifteen. I should be leaving right now .
Lorna walks me into the office. Mrs. Wang looks at me and picks up the phone. “Another attack?”
“Don ’t call my mom; I ’m getting better!” I plead.
Mrs. Wang shakes her head. “No can do. You know the rules.”
Right. That my mom enforced. How am I going to get out of this one?
“I hope you feel better, ” Lorna says, and leaves.
I sit in one of the waiting chairs, my mind racing. I have to get to Jenna. Maybe I should duck out to the bathroom. I cough half-heartedly.
The principal calls Mrs. Wang into her office. I wait until the door closes, then rush out into the hall, my heart pounding so hard I really am having trouble breathing. I push through the heavy doors and down the steps. A hand grips me.
Gil. “Where were you?”
“Asthma story didn ’t work so well.” I check my watch. Two-thirty! Only fifteen minutes before it will be too late! “Come on!” I gasp, and start running again. I speed
dial Jenna but she doesn ’t pick up.
Gil runs beside me. “Is it far?”
“Maybe ten minutes.” My breath rasps in my throat. I cut across the road, dashing between cars who honk at me, and onto the other side.
Gil grabs my hand, slowing me. “Cab!” he yells, waving his other hand, and the cab screeches to a halt in front of us. We scramble in and I give Jenna ’s address.
“Please hurry!” I say. I can ’t stop checking my watch, swearing silently at all the traffic. But I know we ’re faster in the cab than on foot.
The cab driver pulls up outside Jenna ’s apartment building.
“Go!” Gil says, opening his wallet. “I ’ll meet you inside.”
Only five minutes to go. “Her apartment is number six-oh-five!” I stumble out of the cab, run into the building, and slap the elevator button. “Come on, come on!” I say. The doors open .
I rush in and ride it up to the sixth floor, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I race down the hall to Jenna ’s apartment. I can hear Mason yelling, then a thud. Don ’t let me be too late!
I pound on the apartment door. “Jenna!” I shout. “Jenna, it ’s Kate!”
A dog starts yipping in one of the apartments. Down the hall, an old woman opens her door and pokes her head out to stare at me, her grey hair in curlers.
It’s too quiet in Jenna ’s apartment. What if I ’m too late? Please don ’t let me be too late. I pound on the door again. “Jenna!”
There’s silence, and then I hear footsteps. Jenna opens the door, her face pale. “Katie? What are you doing here?”
Relief fills me. “Jenna, ” I say, and wrap my arms around her tight. I feel her heart pounding hard against my chest, like she ’s been running. Or maybe it ’s my heart.
“Katie?” Jenna says again. “Shouldn ’t you be in school?”
I don’t know what to say to that. I only thought about getting here in time .
The floor creaks and Mason appears behind Jenna, his shirt half open, his face flushed. “Kate—you really need to call first, ” he says, smiling awkwardly.
Oh god. Did I catch them doing it? But that can ’t be right. Unless my visions are wrong.
I stare at Jenna. Her neck is reddened right where I “saw ” Mason jam her against the wall.
“What do you want, Kate?” Mason asks impatiently.
Gil comes running down the hall and skids to a stop next to me, panting.
“Who ’s this?” Mason asks. “Did Jenna know you were both coming?” He puts a hand on her back.
I don’t want to make it worse. “No, I—” I can ’t think fast enough. I scramble in my bag and pull out the origami butterfly I made in class. “I brought a peace offering, ” I say, handing it to Jenna.
Jenna takes it, looking bemused.
“You guys still coming for dinner?”
“Yes, ” Jenna says.
“That ’s why you came here? To make sure we were still coming to dinner?” Mason asks, his eyes narrowing. “You could have called, you know.”
I grab Gil’s arm. “Well, I wanted you to meet someone, ” I say to Jenna, “My boyfriend. Gil.”
Jenna’s eyes brighten. “You have a boyfriend? You didn ’t tell me! Glad to meet you, Gil. I ’m Kate ’s sister.” And she puts out her hand.
“Glad to meet you, too, ” Gil says politely.
“Sisters.” Mason shakes his head and smiles.
“Thank you for playing along back there, ” I tell Gil as we walk down the street. “I didn ’t know what to say.”
“It seemed to do the trick, ” Gil says, half smiling. “And we made it on time.”
“Yeah, this time. But how do I know if I stopped it for good? How do I keep it from happening again? What if I don ’t get a vision next time she needs help?”
Gil looks at me sharply. “What are you saying?”
“I don ’t know—except that she has to get out of there.”
“Yeah, ” Gil says. “If she doesn ’t, it ’ll probably happen again.”
That’s what I ’m afraid of.
And what about Inez? Will talking to her, letting her know we care, be enough?
I pull out my cell. Nine messages, all from Mom. I call her.
“Mom, I ’m okay, ” I say fast.
“Where have you been? I ’ve been frantic!”
“I ’m so sorry. I was worried about Jenna; I wanted to make sure she was coming to dinner.”
“But the office said—”
“It was a mistake. I ’m okay. I ’m not even wheezing.”
Mom’s silent for a moment, and I know she ’s listening to make sure.
“I ’m just going to a friend ’s place for a bit, but I ’ll be home soon. I promise—I ’m good!”
“A friend?” Mom says, sounding surprised. “All right. Be home in time for dinner, ” she says quietly, and hangs up.
I stare at my cell. I can ’t believe I got off that easy.
“Your mom yell at you?” Gil says sympathetically.
“No. I can ’t believe it.”
“Maybe she was just relieved that you ’re all right.”
“Maybe.”
We walk again in silence. Gil tenses the farther away we get from Jenna ’s place.
“You okay?” I say, wondering if it really was a good thing to trust Gil.
“I ’m fine, ” Gil says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
But he doesn’t look fine. He must be worried about Inez. But he still came with me to help Jenna. A warm feeling fills me.
We walk down streets I don ’t recognize, Gil leading the way.
“This is our place, ” Gil says, motioning toward a tall, faded apartment building. We climb up the stairs together to the third floor. Gil holds open the apartment door, the scent of a rich stew wafting out. “Nana, I ’m home! And I brought Kate.”
I follow him into a bright, cramped living room, the walls a sunlight yellow. Plump orange sofas line two walls, taking up most of the space, and plants sit atop almost every surface.
A woman with a deeply lined face, her grey hair tied back, rushes into the room, drying her hands on the apron she wears over her long brown dress. She reaches for both my hands and closes her eyes. I don ’t know what to do, but then she opens her eyes again and smiles.
“Welcome, ” she says. “You are welcome here.”
She cups my cheek with her warm, papery hand. “Your gift is strong; I can feel it. But it is deeply tied to your heart chakra. It affects your lungs, your heart, and your breathing when you see. No ?”
“Yes, ” I say, blinking at her.
Gil’s grandmother nods. “You must surround yourself with love whenever you see. Pull toward you all of the love you feel for others and that you know others feel for you. Imagine it like a coat or a blanket that you wrap around you. That will help you to breathe.”
“I—thank you so much, Mrs. Flores.”
Gil’s grandmother laughs, her voice throaty and full. “Call me Nana. Everyone else does. Gil says you have never met another sighted one?”
“You mean someone else with a psychic gift? No. My parents don ’t believe in it.”
“So.” Nana nods. “You will come to me any time you have a question. Any time you need to know you are not alone. I will help you.”
Tears burn my eyes. “Thank you, ” I whisper.
Gil squeezes my arm. “Told you she ’d like you, ” he says.
“You will see my Inez now?” Nana says. “You will help.”
“Yes, of course. I don ’t know how I can help, though.”
“Maybe she will listen to you. She doesn ’t want to listen to an old woman like me.”
“Nana, you know that ’s not true, ” a frail girl quietly protests as she comes up behind Nana, her face as grey as oatmeal. She ’s dressed in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt that only emphasize how pale she looks. Dark pouches sag beneath her troubled eyes and her greasy hair hangs limply.
>
Beside me, Gil sucks in his breath.
“I ’m Kate, ” I say.
Inez nods. “Come talk?” and turns away, shuffling down the hall. I follow, Gil close behind me. We walk down a hall with colorful paintings of trees and dancing women, and turn right at an open doorway. As I walk in I ’m hit with the stale odor of unwashed body. I blink in the dim light and see that the walls are covered with posters of strong women singers: Sinead O’Connor, Melissa Etheridge, and the Indigo Girls stare out at me. They overwhelm the small room, making it almost claustrophobic .
Inez slumps down on her bed, her rainbow bedspread a riot of color. I pull out her desk chair, which almost touches the edge of her bed in the tiny space, and sit.
“So you ’re the girl Gil likes, ” Inez says, leaning forward.
Gil likes me? My heart beats faster.
“Inez!” Gil says, his face a bright red.
Inez smiles at him, though the smile doesn ’t change the misery in her eyes. “Gil, why don ’t you let us talk by ourselves?”
He raises his eyebrows at me. I nod.
“Okay.” Gil kisses Inez ’s forehead, then leaves.
Inez stares at her hands for a long moment, then pats her rainbow bedspread. “My nana wove this for me, ” she says. “I know I ’m lucky—she and Gil both let me be who I am. Even encourage me.”
“That ’s pretty awesome, ” I say. “Not everyone does that.”
Inez snorts.
That must have sounded so stupid to her, considering how half the students went after her for being queer.
“Are you going to come back to school?” I ask.
Inez shrugs, still not looking at me. “What for?”
“I don ’t know...to show those homophobes they can ’t win?”
Inez’s head jerks up and she stares at me, her eyes so full of pain I want to look away. A faint smile crosses her lips. “That ’s the best reason I ’ve heard.”
She swallows. “Gil said you saw me killing myself.”
“Uh—yeah. I hope—well, he just wanted to help you. I do, too.”
“Because you don ’t think I should die.”
“No, you can ’t! Gil and Nana—they ’d be devastated. They might never get over it.”
“I know, ” Inez whispers. “I don ’t want to hurt them. But sometimes the pain is so bad I don ’t think I can get through it.”
Parallel Visions Page 4
