Intuition (12 page)

My stomach turns at the thought of a jalapeño bagel with salmon cream cheese. “Thanks. But no.”

“I ran into your mom on the porch. Boy, is she pissed.” Rayne gives me a crooked smile. “Guess she found out about Kat, huh?”

I shrug. “Nothing they can do about it. She used her own money. Happy Independence Day to Kat.”

“Yeah, but it'll totally take the heat off you. Nothing you can possibly do will be as big as this. She did you a favor.”

“Yeah. I'm grateful. Kat left me here to deal with everything
after she promised she wouldn't. She's going to go live an amazing life in London and I'm stuck here.”
Without Griffon.
I close my eyes, trying to banish the thoughts that are creeping into my head.

“How long are you going to stay here, anyway? You're missing work, and there was a great party in the Mission last night. Plus, it's the Fourth—you have to come watch fireworks. We'll grab a couple of chairs, go down to Aquatic Park, freeze our butts off, and try to see something through the fog. You can totally hang out with me and Peter.”

I look at her, knowing that she means it all in the nicest possible way. Anybody else would seriously piss me off. “Yeah. The three of us will have a great time together. Maybe we can all huddle under the same blanket. Not awkward at all.”

“So now that Griffon's gone, you're going to spend the next year in your room? I'm not going to let that happen. You have to get out there—you'll feel better. At least just come with me to the café. If you won't eat, maybe a little coffee will do you good.”

An Americano with half and half is the first thing that's sounded even remotely palatable in days. I grab a pillow and hug it to my chest. “Will you go get me one?”

“No. I'm sorry, the To Go window is closed. You have to come get it yourself.” She bounces a few more times and then stops, a serious look on her face. “Come on Cole, I'm worried about you. We all are. I know how much this totally sucks, but you have to let him get this out of his system. When Griffon has time to think about it, he'll come back.”

I've tried telling myself different versions of the same thing, but the reality I have to face is that Griffon's gone. “He won't,” I
say. “You didn't see his face. He really means it.” He won't let me explain or let himself believe what really happened. Despite the fact that I'm trying to be practical and realistic, tears well up in my eyes.

“Oh, man,” Rayne says and scoots up to brush the hair out of my face. “Honey, I'm so sorry. I wish I could fix it. The best I can do is drag you out for a lousy cup of coffee.”

“I know,” I sniff, trying to get a grip on myself. “I appreciate it.”

I look down at my bunched-up sheets, noticing their sour smell for the first time. I don't want the life that waits for me outside of this house. The one without Griffon in it. But I'm starting to make myself a little sick. Maybe just one cup of coffee. Then I can come home, change my sheets, and climb back into bed.

“Just give me an hour,” Rayne prods. “You don't even have to come to the fireworks tonight. Just get out of this house. You'll feel better.”

“I don't want to feel better,” I say, throwing the comforter back. “The only way I'll ever feel better is if Griffon changes his mind, and that's not going to happen. I want to feel every moment of this misery.” I sit on the edge of the bed and put my feet gingerly on the floor. “Plus, you know I don't like fireworks.”

“If you want to wallow, go ahead. One cup of coffee and I'll let you come running back here.” Rayne pulls me to my feet. “But first, do the rest of us a favor and go take a shower.”

I tuck the sleeping bag around my feet and settle back into the folding chair. It's almost totally dark now, but the music is still
playing from the bandstand up the street and Frisbees are still whizzing by my head on a regular basis. I'm trying hard to share Rayne's holiday mood and not sink back into the depression that's become oddly comforting, like a favorite pair of worn jeans. I glance up at the overcast sky—it's like a blank slate now, but in a little while it's going to explode with lights and noise. Waiting for fireworks shows always makes me a little jumpy. Once they start I'm usually okay, but I get a little flinchy at the beginning.

Rayne leans against my legs. She and Peter are sharing a sleeping bag on a tiny patch of grass we've carved out for ourselves, and even though they've tried to keep the contact to a minimum, I can't help but notice how happy they are together. “You warm enough?” she asks, looking up at me.

“I'm okay. Once in my life I'd like to watch Fourth of July fireworks without wearing a parka and a sleeping bag.”

Peter pulls a wool blanket from around his shoulders and hands it to me. “Here, take this. I'm warm enough.”

That one small gesture brings tears flooding into my eyes. “No, it's fine. I'm fine.” I can feel the sadness well up from somewhere down deep until it seems like it's going to crash over me like a tidal wave. If I stay here, I'll drown. I kick the sleeping bag off my legs. “I'm going to walk around for a little bit.”

“But the fireworks are going to start in a couple of minutes. You can't go wandering around down here by yourself.”

“You were the one who said I needed some fresh air. I'm just going to go find a little more. There are thousands of people here, nothing's going to happen.”

“Are you sure? I feel so bad.”

“I'm sure. Don't feel bad. I'm doing enough of that for everyone.”

“Keep your phone on,” Rayne says as I stand up and zip my jacket tight. “And text me.”

“Yes, Mom.” I turn around and look at all the people crowding every available space and try to decide which way to go. I really just want to be alone right now, and where better to do that than in the middle of five thousand people? Without a destination in mind, I start to head back toward Fisherman's Wharf. A few people bump me while I walk, but almost everyone is settling in to their small patch of grass or sidewalk to wait for the fireworks to begin.

I've only gone about a block when one lone pop fills the sky with red and makes me jump. There are people crowded on every horizontal surface, but I find a tiny space on a brick wall and squeeze myself into it. The fog above our heads flashes with color as the giant fireworks begin to light up the night. I try to wipe my mind clean of all thoughts and just enjoy the noise and the oohs and ahhs of the crowd of strangers around me. One loud whistling firework ends in a trail of sparks that seem to embed themselves in my brain. The overwhelmingly loud sound of the crackle and hiss as it comes back down to earth fill my ears, and before the panic can take hold, I realize that I'm being pulled into another memory.

The fireworks explode in the dusty street, but I'm so used to the noise now that I don't even jump when one goes off right next to me.

“Throw it!” my brother yells, handing me a small, flaming cylinder.

“Thamun! Stop!” I shout, trying to get everyone out of the way and toss it onto the ground as all of the faces around us light up with color. All the other boys my age squeal and run in different directions, trying to get their own firecrackers to light.

It seems like it took forever for Diwali to get here, and we finally get to stay up late, eating sweets and tossing firecrackers into the street. I feel a little sorry for Kavita because she's stuck inside with the girls cooking and cleaning, so I light another firecracker in her honor and toss it at Varun's feet, laughing as my big brother screams like a girl and runs away just in time to avoid the flash.

In seconds he's back, his dark eyes shining. “Ramesh, look at this one.” He's holding a round ball that is almost as big as his head. Varun caresses the side as if it's a pretty girl's cheek, and grins at me. “This is going to be the best one of the night.”

“Where did you get that monstrosity?” I ask. I'd never seen a big one that close up before.

“I did a favor for someone,” my brother says cryptically. “Get everyone to stand back and I'll light it.”

“Thamun!” I shout again as loud as I can, but it seems as if no one is listening. “Look out! Varun is about to light the biggest of them all!”

I hear a hiss as the flame makes contact with the wick, and turn away for just a second to grab one of the little boys who is racing right into the line of fire. Before Varun has time to toss it away, there is a blinding flash and a noise that is loud enough
to rip the ears off one's head. The air is filled with the sounds of screaming, and I'm on my knees, my hands clawing at the dirt that is quickly getting damp with drops of something from above. I can't see anything in my panic, and it takes a few seconds to realize that the deafening screaming is coming from my own throat.

I jump as the air seems to vibrate with another loud bang, but this one is high in the air above my head. My heart is beating fast with the panic of the firecracker accident. Diwali. I remember my friend Gabi talking about that holiday. This must have been the glimpse of India I've had a few times before. I touch my hands to my face as I think about what happened. What came after that night? Did I survive?

The fireworks are coming fast and furious now, so it must be the finale; I wonder how long I've been gone. I glance around but everyone is motionless, their necks craned toward the sky to watch the clouds flash and change color.

“You're back.”

I startle at the words as Drew turns to face me, and anger fills me instantly. “What are you doing here?”

He pauses to let some of the loudest fireworks pass. “Protecting you. Do you have any idea how vulnerable you are when you're in the middle of a memory?” Even though my ankh is hidden by my jacket, I feel the weight of its presence every time he speaks.

“Apparently very vulnerable, if you're any indication.” I jump down off the wall and start to walk into the crowd, but Drew jogs to catch up.

“Would you stop running away from me?”

“Only if you'll stop following me.”

“I wasn't following you,” he says, dodging people as they bend down to pack up their chairs and blankets. “You're in my neighborhood.”

I look around and realize he's right. I'd forgotten that the party at Francesca's house was only a block or two from here. I glance out toward the water, realizing that just a few weeks ago, Griffon and I were wrapped up in each other, staring at the very same view. I walk faster.

“Things aren't going so well at home and I just needed to get out of the house. I saw you sitting there,” he explains. “I could tell that you were in no shape to be left alone, so I just sat next to you and waited. Is that so wrong?”

I stop and face him, barely able to contain my desire to punch him in the chest. The anger rolls off me in waves, and Drew must sense it because he takes one small step backward. “
You're
all wrong! If you hadn't shown up at the studio the other day, everything would be fine.” I clench my fists, trying to keep my voice steady. “Griffon's gone.”

Drew raises his eyes to meet mine. “Maybe he sees what you refuse to. That we're destined for each other.”

“We are
not
!” I turn and start to walk away. The people around us are already beginning to thin out, and I scan the crowd for Rayne and Peter.

“Wait,” Drew says, and reaches out to touch my sleeve, but I shrug him off. Even through the thick fabric I can feel the vibrations between us, so I step back until they become just a dull ache.

“Griffon was everything to me. He's Sekhem,” I say, the pride in my voice unmistakable. “Important Sekhem. Not like some selfish, low-life Khered.”

Drew's face registers the surprise I'm sure he wanted to hide. “Is that what you think? If that's true, I can only imagine what kind of crap he's been telling you all this time.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “There are other facets to life than what the Sekhem have been feeding you. Khered take advantage of the opportunities we've been given in a different way. The Sekhem don't have all the answers. It's not only about hard work and crushing responsibility.”

Responsibility. That word has been following me around since the day I had my first memory. “What are you talking about?”

“There are many ways to live in this world, and apparently you've only been shown one tiny side of the benefits that our kind of immortality can bring.”

Immortality. I hadn't really thought of it that way before. As pissed as I am at myself for staying and even talking to him, another part of me is just the tiniest bit curious. “And you have another?”

Drew smiles, and I have to look away—otherwise I'd have to admit that it makes him even better-looking. “There's only one way to find out. Have dinner with me.”