The Reason (2 page)

Stay away from her,
Emily says inside my head.

"Why?" I ask out loud.

Stay away.

Emily's another one who's overprotective of me. Between my mom and dad, Loreen, Father Mass, Jason, of course, and Emily, I have all protection bases covered. Still ... Emily's never seemed so distraught or insistent.

Don't ignore me, Kendall.

The woman in the window drops the curtain one more time and disappears. As does Emily. God, isn't anything easy for me? Nope. Not when you're psychic. Just part of the circus that is my life.

Emily's warning. The spirit's stare. I know she and I are destined to come head to head.

With a long sigh, I mutter, "Here we go again."

"S
ARAH, YOU'VE OUTDONE YOURSELF,
" my dad exclaims after dinner that night.

"Yeah, Mom," my little sister, Kaitlin, echoes, waving her napkin in the air. "That fried chicken was better than KFC."

Mom laughs, but I roll my eyes.

"Gack, Kaitlin. How can you compare Mom's afternoon of slaving over the stove to make us good old homemade fried chicken with pulling up to a window and paying four ninety-nine for processed potatoes and various parts?"

Dad snickers. "Tell us what you really think, sweetie."

I laugh too, trying so hard to grow out of my slightly spoiled Chicago snobbery I've had most of my life. I'm sorry, but nothing compares to a home-cooked meal like this. This really has nothing to do with manufactured chicken products at all, though. My energy has been completely out of whack today, and I know it. Loreen commented on my auras shifting like a rainbow of color. The psychic reading I did for Fran Spencer from the drugstore went completely haywire because I kept being interrupted by my own personal premonitions instead of staying focused on helping Ms. Spencer locate her lost cockatoo. My total unease continues to revolve around this impending sense of doom I feel. I keep trying to ask Emily about it—about the dream and how she says it's my future—but she's being so ambiguous that it's sincerely pissing me off. Of course, Celia would tell me that the mere existence of and connection with ghosts and spirits is vague, so I shouldn't be surprised when Emily is so standoffish. Still ... I just don't feel like myself. And a little niggle inside tells me it also has something to do with the lingering presence I sensed at Mayor Shy's house this morning.

I sigh deeply and long. The chicken battle is ovah!

Mom picks up on my unease and reaches over to take my hand. "Is everything okay at school, Kendall?"

I wipe my mouth with my napkin and try not to fiddle with the edges of it. "Everything's cool. I've just ... um, got a lot of assignments d0, especially in calculus, and Celia and I are working on some extra credit for computer class. Things are cruising along just fine."

Furrowing her brow, Mom isn't having any of it. "Look, sweetie, you've been quieter than usual these last few weeks. And especially since you got home today. You walk around the house like you're tiptoeing on eggshells, and you seem skittish whenever Kaitlin's playing her video games or I make loud sounds in the kitchen. Is something going on with your ... you know ... your abilities?"

I glance over at Dad and see him raise an eyebrow in my mother's direction. He's as shocked as I am that she's actually accepted my psychicness finally. (Only took a few months; several visits to the Episcopal priest; and a battery of blood, physical, and psych tests in Atlanta.)

I look into her soft eyes, warm with concern for her older child. Should I tell her about the vision? Should I warn her about what possibly looms in my future? If I do, I'll surely be locked inside my room until I'm thirty-five—rightly so! I want to be honest, though. Hiding secrets from the ones you love isn't the way to go in life. I've certainly learned that through my awakening and all the probs Mom and I have worked through together.

Before I can force the words out, my sister jumps in.

"She's been sleepwalking," Kaitlin pipes up through a mouthful of lime Jell-O.

"What?"

"Seriously," Kaitlin repeats. "I hear it all the time."

"That's not me, dork. That's Emily."

My sister screws up her nose. "Your imaginary friend?"

"She's not imaginary. She's real. She talks to me all the time." At thirteen, Kaitlin doesn't buy into much that I've got going as her big sister. All she cares about is the latest show on Cartoon Network, making sure her Wii games are up to date, and hanging with her friends playing soccer. Just wait until
she
experiences
her
awakening. I mean, it's sure to happen, right? Look at me. This stuff runs in families ... or so Loreen tells me.

Mom steps in. "Now, now, girls. Not at the dinner table."

Kaitlin's typical brattiness aside, I need to assure my parents that I'm all right. At least until I can figure out exactly what's going on. "I'm totally not sleepwalking. I'm fine. I've just got a lot on my plate, you know? I promise, if there's anything going on that you need to know about, I'll tell you."

Does it count as a lie if I have my fingers crossed under the table?

Dad stands and gathers our plates to carry them to the sink. "You have a good head on your shoulders, Kendall. We trust you. And you know you can tell us anything."

"Yes, Dad." I hang my head for a moment and stare at my crossed fingers. Maybe I should let my 'rents in on my vision.

Emily materializes in front of me with sad eyes. I'll overlook the fact that she's chosen to appear to me in the middle of the kitchen table, since she's a ghost. Things like tables, chairs, and walls have no effect on her.

What is it?
I ask her in my head.

"It's best to keep your visions to yourself at this point."

Why?

"The future is often clouded."

But you told me the dream was real.

"I'm doing what I can to prevent it..."

With that, Emily reaches a translucent hand out to me. I can almost feel her fingers on my face, but I know it's not real. Then she fades away as quickly as she appeared.

"Wait!" I shout out.

Kaitlin jumps in her chair. "There she goes again. Talking to the air."

"Now, Kaitlin," my dad fusses. "Kendall?"

I swallow hard. "No prob, Dad. Emily was just, er, messing with me." When I hear our front doorbell, I push out of my chair and stand up. "That's Jason. He's coming over to study."

"Okay, dear," Mom says and then turns to attack the stack of dishes in the sink.

I've literally been saved by the bell. This time.

"I was born to kiss you."

When Jason says this I can't help pushing him away and laughing totally hard at him. "Have you been reading romance novels?" I ask cheekily.

He rolls aside and shoves our abandoned calculus books toward the foot of my bed. We've been making out like crazy for the past ten minutes, not even thinking about vectors, antiderivatives, or quadratic approximation.

Jason twists one of my long, loose curls around his index finger. "Don't laugh at me, Kendall. I love kissing you. You have great lips."

I feel the blush from the roots of my hair to the tips of my socked feet. This has become our study ritual. He comes over, we pore over the textbook for about an hour, and then all thoughts of facts and figures are out the window when he starts making out with me.

"You have awesome lips too," I say, wanting to giggle behind the words. Thing is, Jason and I are nuts, beans, and crackers about each other and I don't care how goofy anything I say sounds when we're together like this. I never thought I'd ever have a boyfriend who totally accepted me for all I am. Jason truly is too good to be true.

"Ouch!" he squeaks out. "Why'd you pinch me?"

I shine him a toothy grin. "To make sure you're real."

He smiles too. "As real as you are."

His blue eyes are dark with his desire for me. I don't need to be psychic to know that he'd like to take this relationship further. However, he's a gentleman—a Southern one, at that—and he isn't pushing me or making me feel like
that
is a step we
have
to take. For the time being, macking on each other as much as we can is pretty damn close to paradise.

Jason pulls me to him again, bringing our chests together as our lips meet. Yeah, maybe we were born to kiss each other. The energy between us is like electricity, and I feel like Swoony McSwoonerton every time I'm in his presence.

At least Emily's got the decency to give us space tonight. She's usually going all parental on my ass, telling me that Jason and I kiss way too much. Can one ever really kiss her boyfriend too much?

So we roll around for the next few minutes kissing all over each other, holding hands, and embracing. I'm so into him, loving the—well, the loving. This is what being a teenager is all about, isn't it? Not thoughts of death and dying. I relax more into Jason's arms, letting my worries cascade off my shoulders like water over Niagara Falls. Deep, soft kisses soothe and heal, erasing all doubt and worry of things that
might
be in the future.

I gasp into Jason's kiss when my mind's eye begins to home in on a misty vision before me. It's a guy whose face isn't quite clear. He's leaning toward me like
he's
going to kiss me. I can't make out the details of him, but his brown eyes shine at me. Who is this? Where did this come from? Is this some sort of premonition, like when I saw Jason before I met him?

I jerk away and stare straight into Jason's eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks with concern written all over his face.

What does this mean? Are Jason and I going to break up? Are we not going to be together forever? I mean, I know we're young and stuff, but I don't see me with anyone other than him.

Hot tears begin to sting my eyes as I dwell on the possibility of losing Jason. Who was the guy with the brown eyes? Does he have something to do with this future where I die?

My hands cover my mouth to contain the choked sob.

Quickly, Jason sits up and puts his hands on my shoulders. "Kendall! Don't do this to me. What's going on? Are you okay?"

I lean my head onto his chest and let loose the tears that have been building up from holding in this secret of seeing my own death. I can't handle this burden. I'm too young for this. Sure, I hunt ghosts and I talk to spirits like it's no big deal, but this is messing with my plans for my life. It wasn't an older version of myself I saw battered and bleeding, it was me—now.

How do I share this news?

Jason gently shakes me. "Kendall. Talk to me, damnit."

He moves his thumbs under my eyes to wipe away the salty tears. There's such love and care in his face that I know I have to come clean. It's the right thing to do.

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. "Jason, I need to tell you something."

His hands return to my shoulders and knead them to show me he's listening. "You know you can tell me anything."

I smirk slightly, aware there's a part of him that's still quite skeptical about my abilities. "It's kind of ... out there."

Leaning in, Jason kisses me quickly on the lips and grins. "I'm used to your 'out there' stories, K."

Another cleansing breath. "I've had a really scary vision."

"About what? Us?"

The vision of almost kissing the brown-eyed guy is too fresh. I have to let that one soak in a little more before I try to interpret that. "No. About me."

"What about you?"

"Jason, I've..."
Steady, girl.
"I've visualized my own death."

He sits back into the pillows and huffs out a long breath. "We're all going to die one day, Kendall. So what?"

"No, like ... soon."

"What do you mean?"

I explain the vision to him in detail, just as I dreamed it two months ago. My emotions boil over as I'm finally able to share this with someone else. "And it ended with me ... dead."

Jason's usually tan face turns white as the clichéd sheet and I can see the alpha wolf in him begin to emerge, teeth bared and eyes determined. "I won't let it happen."

Shaking my head, I say, "If it's my future, there's nothing you can do about it."

"Like hell there isn't! I'll do everything in my power to protect you."

"You can't."

His lips flatten. "Try stopping me."

Awww ... how sweet is he? I launch myself at him and hug tightly. "I love you so much, Jason."

"I love you too, Kendall," he says into my hair. "I won't let that vision come true. I just won't."

I squeeze my eyes shut, trapping the tears that so want to escape. I bask in the shelter of Jason's love and protection ... at least momentarily. The light on the nightstand flickers and I know that Emily is near. When I open my eyes, she's watching me and shaking her head.

"You shouldn't have told him..."

I ignore her interference and she fades away as fast as she appeared.

Jason pushes me back slightly and cocks an eyebrow toward the light. "Your invisible friend?"

I nod. "She didn't want me telling anyone."

"I'm not just anyone, Kendall. And I will protect you no matter what. I don't want you going anywhere without me, or even driving over the speed limit."

Laughing, I say, "It doesn't happen in a car."

"You don't know that!"

"Yeah, I do. It happens inside. In a house. Near some stairs."

"Then I don't want you doing any investigations. I'm serious. You never know what you'll encounter that might want to make this vision a reality."

"Oh, please. I can totally still drive. And I'm not giving up ghost hunting. It's my calling and there are too many families out there that need my help. Like Mayor Shy. Can you believe the mayor wants us to investigate her house?"

"You're not to do it without me," he says firmly.

"Whatever."

"It's not whatever, K. I'm serious."

"So am I. I'll be as careful as I always am. I just had to tell you what's been eating at me so you'll understand."

Jason kisses my forehead and whispers his love to me. "I'll always protect you, Kendall. I'll be damned if I'll let anything hurt you."