Farsighted (Farsighted Series) (25 page)

“Did you miss me?” she asks, tracing her index finger over the crook of my elbow.

“I didn’t,” my lips say, while my body gives every indication to the contrary. I suddenly remember I’m wearing nothing but my boxer shorts and pull the blanket up under my chin.

“I think you did,” Simmi says in a sing-song voice, tapping her finger on my nose with each word.

“I had Shapri,” I argue, but it sounds weak, even to me.

“I’m glad we’re friends again,” Simmi purrs.

“We’re not,” I say in my last ditch effort to get rid of her. After all, it’s for her own good.

“Too bad about Shapri getting suspended. Brady deserved what was coming to him.” Simmi scoots over on the bed to lie next to me on the twin mattress.

I grunt. Brain. Can’t. Form. Words.

“I’ve missed Shapri, too,” she says with a sigh. “It was really lonely being abandoned by both of you like that. I still don’t understand what I did, but believe me, I’m sorry.”

I vaguely recall the same thing happening to me earlier in the school year but don’t bring it up. She’s so close, so intoxicating.

“It made me realize how much I look forward to seeing you every day, how much I care for you and not just like a brother. Do you forgive me?” she asks, pulling down the comforter to just below my armpits. She puts her hand on my bare collarbone. If my partial nudity surprises her, she doesn’t show it.

“Yaarrraaghal,” I answer, sounding like a drunk Chewbacca.

She laughs and shifts her weight toward me. “Do you ever wonder what I look like?”

“Umm, yeah,” I confess.

“Here,” she says, bringing her cheek to touch my cheek, her eyelashes to touch my eyelashes, her nose to touch my nose.

Her lips to touch my lips.

This isn’t like the last time we kissed. It’s deeper, stronger. Man, how I’ve missed her.

I’m about to score a goal in tonsil hockey when she backs away and gasps. “Oh, my God, Shapri!”

“Hhrrmph?” I manage, my lips still puckered forward.

“Shapri, Shapri. Your girlfriend. I am
so
sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Her voice is fast and full of tension.

“It’s okay. She’s not
really
my girlfriend.”

“Of course she’s your girlfriend. And she’s my best friend, too. I can’t believe myself. This can
never
happen again.” She’s about to cry.

I lean forward to kiss her again, to make her feel better, but she pushes me away.

“No, this was very,
very
wrong. Gaah, what’s gotten into me?”

I pull the comforter back up to my chin. Seems the romance has passed, darn it.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God,” she whines as she paces my room from one side to the other, as if she’s a general planning her strategy for war. What is with girls and crazy mood swings anyway? Suddenly, she freezes up, her voice taking on a whole new tone.

 “Alex, may I borrow a pen and paper? When I get upset, I need to write out my emotions. It’s the only proper way to deal with them. If I tell Shapri on paper and then tear it up, I’ll feel better.”

“Yeah, there’s a pen in the top left drawer of my desk.” Dad keeps it there for when he’s working on my homework with me. “Take some paper from the printer.”

“Thanks,” she answers, thrusting the drawer open and shuffling around the contents. She falls quiet. I can only hear the sound of her breathing. Maybe after she does this little task, she’ll be back in the mood. I wait.

A gasp breaks the silence. What now?
Another
emotional panic attack?

“You think I’m in danger? That I could die?”

“N-no,” I say. Where is she getting this from? There’s no way she could’ve found out unless somebody told her. Dad? Shapri? Miss Teak? I’ll kill whoever it was.

“Then what’s this?” Simmi demands, shaking a stack of papers.

Realization sinks in. She’s found my information file on Dax. The thing’s in braille; how could she know what it says? She’s waiting for an answer. “I…I’m writing a story,” I lie.

“Oh, really. Is that it?” Simmi places her hand on my chest, right over my heart. Her hand pushes the soft blanket into me with far too much force. A moment later it flicks away as if my body is a hot stove and she’s just been burned.

“Alex, don’t lie to me. I can tell you’re lying to me.”

“Uh, no I’m not,” I answer nervously.

“Your heart is a dead give-away. It’s beating way too quickly.”

“But. Because…” I stop myself, preferring not to mention how aroused our little moment has made me. Anyway, I
am
lying.

“You wouldn’t make this up.” She shakes the papers again.

“How did you—?”

“I’ve been studying it on my own ever since you showed me how to read
Homer
on your copy of
Odyssey
. Turns out it was rather easy for me, this touch alphabet, since I’m quite gifted in that department. I wanted to surprise you when the moment was right.” She exhales with a great deal of force, balls up my notes, and stuffs them back into the corner of my desk, easing the drawer shut. “But it seems you’re the one who has surprised me.” She stands in silence, likely by my desk since I haven’t heard her move, awaiting a reply.

“I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to be afraid,” I answer.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Alex. I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t you see what you’re up against?” I sputter, standing to my feet, wearing my blanket like a toga.

Simmi walks over to me and picks up her backpack from the floor. She lays a hand on my arm and addresses me like I’m a misbehaving child.

“Don’t you see what
you’re
up against? If all of this is true, you need
me
just as much as I need you.”

Chapter 20

The traveler must take guidance from those who are most affected by his actions. He is responsible to them as well as to humanity as a whole.

As it turns out, Simmi was right. I do need her help. We’re back to practicing the rune trick together as a team. It wasn’t the same with Dad or Miss Teak. Something about Simmi’s presence makes it easier for me to enter and stay in a trance. Working together again takes a bit of getting used to, but as we spend more and more time with each other, we slip right back into our old ways. Now, I guess almost every rune correctly with my psychic sight. When I make mistakes, it’s because I’m being careless or because I mix up two runes that look similar.

I’ve been feeling
so
good, as a matter of fact, that last night I didn’t even take a sleeping pill before going to bed, which turned out to be a huge mistake. I had to listen to Simmi being crushed like a bug under a sneaker hundreds of times throughout my dreams. So, all of today has been a total waste. I don’t have near enough energy to hone my gifts.

After washing up for bed and brushing my teeth, I pop a tiny round pill down my throat, tuck myself in, and lie there thinking. Seems I’ve got no choice but to take a pill every night before bed until the threat to Simmi’s life is taken care of. It’s a small price to pay. I sigh and reposition myself in bed, realizing the drug isn’t quite as potent tonight. I must’ve accidentally taken a half dose. Drawing the baggie out from under my bed, I take a second tablet. That does the trick.

The next morning, I don’t have much difficulty getting out of bed. The haze has lifted. I go through the motions of school but don’t really care. The only thing that matters is finding Dax and saving Simmi.

At lunch, she and I sit next to each other and share our meals with each other, resulting in a gourmet feast of egg salad sandwiches, rice, and some smelly soup-like substance called
doll
. I eat most of it while Simmi tells me a story about her kid sister Neha’s run-in with a skunk. She’s just to the part about a tomato juice bath, when Shapri comes and slides into the bench across from us, bringing heavy air with her and a fruit-basket smell.

“Hey, Shapri. Welcome back,” I say between bites. I had forgotten her suspension was over, and she’d be in school today. It’s good to see her again.

“Hi,” she answers as she unpacks her lunch and crunches down on a tart-smelling apple. The lingering scent of cherries vanishes.

“We sure missed you,” I say, trying to coax her back to normalcy.

“Uh-huh,” she answers, balling her paper sack up and tossing it to the side. “So, I guess this means we don’t need to pretend anymore, right?”

“Nope. I told Simmi everything. We’re good.”

“Cool,” she says, mixing something with her spork.

Simmi continues her story about Neha and the skunk. Shapri laughs in all the appropriate places but doesn’t add any side commentary. I ask her about it in labs—Dr. Brown won’t reassign Simmi a second time, so it’s only Shapri and me until the end of the year.

“I dunno, it’s just weird to have Simmi back in the group, though I’m happy she is. It’ll take some getting used to is all,” Shapri whispers, while Dr. Brown prints out the grades from our latest test and passes them around.

“Yeah, I get that. Was it weird when I came back before?”

“Not really,” Shapri scratches at the surface of the desk. “I heart B. E.
Eww
.” This starts a whole new conversation and before I know it, everything’s back to normal. I make myself a promise not to fight with either of the girls again. As long as I can avoid it, that is.

***

Shapri must feel the same way I do, because after school she walks over to Miss Teak’s with me and Simmi. The whole way she seems distracted. Maybe she’s upset about coming with us, but she also doesn’t want to be left out.

We push open the door to the shop. The new bell greets us. Its timbre is deeper than the one in Sweet Blossoms. A gust of wind follows us inside, bringing with it the scent of cherries.

“’Sup, oracles?” I greet Dad and Miss Teak. “Here we are. Ready for the day’s lesson.”

“We have a client coming in soon,” Dad says. “So you guys’ll need to go hang out at Mom’s for a while.”

Shapri murmurs something I can’t quite make out.

“When can we come back?” Simmi says.

“Stop it,” Shapri says out of nowhere. A subtle breeze with no clear origin wisps by my face.

Miss Teak clears her throat and moves to stand next to her daughter.

“Come back in…forty-five minutes?” Dad asks as if he’s looking for confirmation. “We should be good and—”

“Leave. Me. Alone!” Shapri yells, taking a quick breath between each word.

“Shapri, baby,” Miss Teak says in a honey voice. “Hush now, child.” The smells of grass and sandalwood collide as Miss Teak holds Shapri’s head to her chest and rocks her.

“I can’t. I won’t,” Shapri sobs.

“Shh, shh, we know.”

“C’mon, let’s go,” I say to no one in particular. Dad and Simmi both follow me out into the balmy March air. The snow melted a couple of weeks ago, which is way earlier than usual. Something to do with global warming.

“I’ll wait here to give them some space until the client arrives,” Dad explains, leaning back against the exterior wall of the building.

I snap my fingers to show I understand and head over to Sweet Blossoms with Simmi in tow.

“I wonder what’s gotten into her,” Simmi says. “Hope she’s okay.”

“Yeah, me, too.” We enter Sweet Blossoms to find Mom polishing vases and straightening floral arrangements.

“Hi, sapling. Hi, saplingette,” she chirps. “Don’t feel like hanging out next door today?”

“Shapri and her mom needed some privacy,” I say.

“Hmm. Well, I’m glad to have the company. How was school today?”

Mom and I talk about a bunch of little unimportant things while Simmi wanders around the store and examines the bouquets, stirring up a potent arrangement of fragrances as she caresses each flower and releases its perfume into the air.

“These are lovely,” she croons when there’s a pause in the conversation. “How did you learn to set them so perfectly?”

I cringe. Mom’s flowers are such an important part of her, but I’ll never be able to appreciate them beyond their unique mismatch of fragrances.

“I worked as an apprentice to a florist before going into business myself. Taught me everything I know. If things pick up, maybe I could hire you to help out around here someday, too.” Mom seems thrilled with this idea. Simmi does, too.

I, on the other hand, am not.

“No, she’s mine,” I hiss. I don’t even sound like myself.

“Alex, don’t be silly.” Mom dismisses my reaction. “We can share her. Isn’t that right, Simmi?”

Simmi begins to talk, but I cut her off.

“I don’t share well,” I say, lowering my voice to an unnatural pitch. I don’t want to say these crazy things, but I can’t stop myself either. Something from deep within me is lashing out at the people I love.

Simmi and Mom both laugh. Luckily, they think I’m making a joke. Mom starts talking flowers to her new student. I don’t say anymore, but the anger continues to fester inside. I’ve only just gotten Simmi back. I can’t lose her. Won’t lose her. She is
mine
.

The floor beneath me begins to rock. Smells of ink and rancid coffee mix with burnt diesel fuel permeate the air. A loud clunking comes from beneath and a heavy whirring sound from the sides. The temperature rises several degrees, and I can feel a crowd of bodies appear around me. A door opens from the left, letting in a wall of cold air. I feel my position relative to the scene changing, although I’m standing still.