Milayna (2 page)

Eight weeks, one day until my eighteenth birthday.

“What’d you do yesterday? I called you.” Muriel twirled her pen in circles on the dirty Formica table.

“Nothing exciting. Just laps at the pool,” I lied. I hadn’t stopped thinking about what happened at the park. I couldn’t get my mind wrapped around how I knew the man was going to hurt that girl.

She slapped her hand on the pen to stop it and looked at me. A perfect, jet-black eyebrow arched over her almond-shaped eye. “Gee, ever think of asking your best friend and swim teammate to go along?”

I cringed. “Sorry, it was a last-minute decision.”

She pointed at me. “Don’t let it happen again,” she said through clenched teeth. Her black, stick-straight hair fell over her shoulder. I burst out laughing. She dropped her finger and shoved my shoulder, laughing with me.

Our calculus teacher marched into class like one of the British Royal Army’s soldiers in a parade with those red uniforms and the knee-high marching steps—arms full of books and files.

I wonder what Muriel would’ve thought about the guy in the trees—what she would’ve done.

Halfway through class, Muriel texted me. I reached for my cell phone and looked to make sure the teacher wasn’t watching before I read the message. That was when I saw him.

His body angled in his seat, and his head turned slightly toward me. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, like he’d started to smile but decided against it just before it materialized.

I’d noticed him before—it was hard not to. Talk about easy on the eyes. We had English together. I knew him, but we didn’t travel in the same circles. In fact, as far as I could tell, he didn’t travel in any particular circle. He kept to himself and seemed to prefer it that way.

I looked away quickly, feeling my cheeks warm.

Great, I’m blushing. Nice look. Red cheeks and red, curly hair—just like Bozo the Clown. Homecoming queen material. No need to vote; I’ll just take my crown. Yeah, sure.

When my eyes darted back in his direction, he’d turned and faced forward. I felt a small pang of disappointment. Looking down, I read Muriel’s text.

Muriel: Go to the mall after school?

Me: Sure.

Muriel: I’ll drive.

Me: K.

Muriel: What was that look?

Me: What look?

Muriel: Between you and the hottie.

***

I grinned when I read her text.  There wasn’t a look, I typed back. Then why are your cheeks red?  Muriel puffed her cheeks out at me.  Shut up!  I typed and dropped my phone in my bag.  She laughed out loud, earning a glare from our calculus teacher.

I sighed when I turned the corner to my English class. He was waiting for me outside the door.
Joe
. I guess he had a crush on me. He always walked with me when our classes were near each other, and he parked his car conveniently next to mine, or Muriel’s if I rode with her, so he could walk into school with me. And he taped little drawings on my locker door. He was a great artist, but still.

Then there was the thing. The thing I dreaded, but happened every week. My hands started sweating and my stomach roiled when I looked at him—I knew it was coming. I hated it because I hated what I had to do. I didn’t want to hurt Joe’s feelings. He was a really nice guy, but I didn’t find him the least bit attractive or interesting with his mousy-brown hair, too-big glasses, and his constant prattle about the AV club.

“Hey, Milayna.” Joe smiled when he saw me, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger. I smiled back and stifled a groan.

“Hi, Joe.” I tried to blend in with a group of students walking into class and brush past him before he asked me the inevitable question.

“Hey, wait up,” he called.

I stopped just inside the doorway, sighed, and then walked back to where he stood, with his shoulder leaned against the lockers lining the wall. “What’s up?” I twisted my pencil in my fingers.

“You look pretty today. I like it when you wear your hair down and all… all… red and curly.”

“Um, thanks.” I shifted and adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder.

That’s good since my hair is red and curly.

“I was wondering…”

Oh no, here comes the thing. Please don’t ask me again.
I squeezed the strap of my messenger bag so tightly my fingers ached.
There’s only so many ways I can say no without being mean.

“…if you wanted to go out to a movie this weekend?” Joe reached out and put his warm, sweaty hand on my arm.

And there it is.

I sighed and moved my arm to push my hair behind my ear, so he had to pull his hand away. “Joe—” I started when movement caught my attention.

The hottie from calculus walked up beside me. “Hey, there you are.” He stood beside me, at least a head taller, his muscles flexing under his white T-shirt, which clung to him in just the right way as to hint at what lay beneath. His arm brushed against mine, and the unintentional touch was enough to send my nerves crackling. “I saved you a seat.” He winked.

What is he talking about?

“Thanks.” I turned back to Joe. “Uh, Joe, I can’t this weekend. Sorry,” I told him, my voice soft.

“Maybe another time?” He gave me a tight smile before looking the hottie up and down with narrowed eyes.

The so-hot-he-could-be-an-underwear-model
guy
from calculus gave Joe a friendly slap on the back. “I don’t think so, buddy.”

“Oh. Okay.” Joe looked between me and the tall, dark-haired guy, blowing out a breath. “See ya around, Milayna.” Joe turned and was swallowed up by the current of people rushing from one class to the next.

“‘Bye.” I turned, looking at the guy who saved me from Joe, and was sucked in by his marbled, blue-green eyes. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m tired of watching you try to turn him down without hurting his feelings. Better just to be done with it.” He turned away, and I fumbled for something to say to keep him from leaving.

“I’m Milayna. You’re Chay, right?”

He nodded once. “Be careful. They’re here for you,” he murmured over his shoulder before he slipped into the classroom.

“Wait! What are you talking about?”

What the hell kind of freaky thing to say and then just walk away.

I watched the clock tick the seconds off one by one. As soon as the bell rang, I was going to tackle him. My body wanted to tackle him for a totally different reason than my mind, but my mind won out—I wanted information.

When the bell rang, Chay swiped his books off his desk and slipped out of the door. I ran out of the classroom to catch him, but he’d already disappeared into the hoard of students.

***

“Where do you want to go first?” Muriel asked as we drove to the mall after school, looking over at me from the driver’s seat of her car.

“I dunno.” I typed out a quick text to my mom, letting her know I was going to the mall.

“Food court?”

“Yeah, I could go for a soft pretzel.” As if on cue, my stomach growled.

“Food court it is,” Muriel said and pushed up her sunglasses. “Guess what I heard about…”

Muriel’s words were shoved away and pain, swift and sharp, took their place. My stomach scraped together like someone punched through my gut and scrubbed my insides with sandpaper. My breathing became ragged and shallow, my head pounding in rhythm with my heart.

The sights and sounds around me moved in slow motion. Muriel spoke, but I couldn’t understand her, her voice too deep and slow. It sounded like she was underwater.
What’s going on? What’s happening to me?

I gripped the armrest on the car with one hand and wrapped my other arm around my stomach. It felt as though someone were drilling holes inside me. I ground my teeth together against the pain.

Muriel continued her story, maneuvering her car down the street toward an intersection. The light was green, and we inched toward it.

I knew something was going to happen—the same feeling I’d had at the park rolled in the pit of my stomach. Licking my lips, I tipped my head forward so my hair created a curtain between Muriel and me. I didn’t want her to see my eyes darting back and forth and the sweat beading on my upper lip.

A yellow car was on our right. The driver talked on her cell phone, and a baby slept in a car seat behind her, its thumb dangling from its lips. A blue minivan merged into the left turn lane on our left. We all sped closer and closer to the intersection.

A red car. The stoplight.

I saw it. Not with my eyes, but in my mind. I saw what was going to happen. My breath rushed out of my lungs, and time sped up around me.

“Muriel, watch out for the red car!”

“What red car?” Muriel looked to the side.

“It’s gonna run the stoplight.” I pointed to the left.

Just as I said it, the red car came into view. Muriel slammed on the brakes. We lurched forward before the seatbelts snapped us back against our seats. The car whizzed in front of us, narrowly missing the yellow car.

I covered my mouth with a shaky hand and watched the car as it sped out of sight. A shiver ran down my spine.

We could have died! What the hell…?

“Whoa! That was way too close.” Muriel let out a shaky breath and looked at me. “How did you see that car?”

I’d like an answer to that question too. What the freaky hell is going on?

“Where are the police when you need them, huh?” I puffed out my cheeks and blew out a breath.

It was the second time in as many days that I had a vision, or premonition. Whatever they were, they scared the crap outta me.

My fingers squeezed together so tightly that they turned white and began to throb in time to my heartbeat. Sucking in a deep breath through my nose like my mom’s meditation DVD instructed, I forced each finger to relax and straighten. I counted to ten as I let the breath out through slightly parted lips so I didn’t draw Muriel’s attention. I repeated the breathing exercise—deep breath in and deep breath out. My insides that felt as though they’d slid out of place slowly righted themselves, and I stopped shaking.

“Milayna?” Muriel grabbed my arm. “How’d you know that car was going to run the red light?”

Should I tell her how?
I don’t even know what’s happening to me! Oh, by the way, Muriel, I can see the future. That’s how I knew about the car. Yeah, she’d think I was crazy for sure. I already feel like I need a padded cell. I don’t need her to confirm it.

“Um—he was coming too fast to stop.”

Muriel narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m just glad you saw him because I sure didn’t.”

“You were just focused on the road, that’s all.” I bit the inside of my cheek and hoped she’d just drop the subject.

Muriel nodded and turned to look out of the windshield.

***

“What do you know about Chay?” I looked at Muriel across the table in the mall’s food court. Pieces of pretzel dropped to the paper wrapper below as I ripped it apart.

Muriel shoved a bite of pretzel in her mouth, mustard dribbling down her fingers. “Not much. Why?” she asked around the blob.

“He saved me from Joe this afternoon before English class.” I scooted my chair over to make room for a lady pushing a stroller to pass by.

“Poor Joe.” She frowned. I immediately tuned her out, focusing on the oldies music piped through the speakers that were spread through the court and hidden behind plants. “He’s such a nice guy, Milayna. You really should—”

With a sigh, I finally interrupted Muriel’s list of reasons I should date Joe. “He is nice, Muriel, but there’s nothing there. About Chay?”

“You like him?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know him. Just curious.”

“Why’d he care about Joe?” Muriel took a sip of her Coke.

“Said he was tired of watching me try to turn him down without hurting his feelings. Then he said something really weird.”