Insight (25 page)

Okay.

The mood on his body is suddenly lighter. His face holds an easy smile.  I no longer trust it. “What do you think about Landon taking off on his trip?”

I’m afraid to answer. “I think he knows what he’s doing.” I picture Landon at the wheel of his own sailboat and smile. “He’ll love it.”

“He’s taken you out on the boat, hasn’t he?” Mr. Michaels sits on the corner of his desk. “It’s okay. I know he does it.”

I nod. “We just sat on the bow.”

Neither of us speaks for a moment.
Where is Landon?

“You know Landon has a bit of a reputation where girls are concerned?”

Is he warning me? Trying to scare me off? No matter what, talking about Landon is way easier than talking about my possible talents or staring in silence.

“Yes he does. They all hate me right now.” It seems like a safe answer. I just want out of here. Away from him.

Mr. Michaels laughs. “Well, I can see why he likes you so much, Micah. I hope I didn’t scare you away. Aside from this crazy scheme of his, I really think you’ve been good for him.”

I’m not sure how to answer. The compliment is simple, but also a bit overwhelming. “Thanks.” The smile relaxes my face and lets me take in a nice breath without gasping for air. And then I remember I don’t trust him.

“I’m good at reading people, always have been. It’s served me well.” And there it is again, the look that tells me he’s watching me too carefully.

“Oh.” Is he trying to say something with that comment? Is he reading me right now? What does he think? Do I pass his test? Is it a test?

“Landon’s probably the smartest of my boys, not as motivated of course, but definitely smarter.”

I nod. I wouldn’t doubt that for a moment.

He gestures around the room with his hand. “You’re welcome to borrow anything you like from in here, anytime. You don’t have to ask. Just knock before you come in.”

“Thank you.” But all I care about is how can I get out of here and away from this man who’s looking at me way too closely.

“You can’t take anything from that upper wall over there.” My eyes follow his arm up as he points. “Those are all first editions, snobby kind of stuff. They have to stay here.” He laughs, puts his arm over my shoulder and leads me out of the room. It’s the exact same picture, but I see Landon’s face more clearly this time.

“Thanks for chatting with me, Micah.”

“Thank you.” There’s really nothing else to say.

We stop and Mr. Michaels gestures with his hand. “Follow these stairs to the top, his name is on his door.”

“It was nice to meet you.” What else do I say? You scare me? I think you’re hiding something? What is it? You’re way too smooth… I might be psychotic and seeing things that aren’t there?

“Nice to meet you too, Micah. Don’t be a stranger around here. Landon likes you a lot.”

I don’t have any idea what to say, so I nod before starting up the stairs. I know without looking back that he’s watching me go.

TWENTY-FIVE

Landon’s room is marked with his name, as promised. The house feels even bigger from the inside. I knock quietly on his door.

“I don’t need another lecture abo
ut maturity today.” He calls
.

“I wasn’t planning on giving you one.” I open his door slowly.

“Micah.” His smile fills his face. “If I’d known you were here, I’d have come downstairs.” He climbs over the back of his couch and grabs me into a hug.

Us dancing. His hands slide across the blue silk. Love. Contentment.
Wow. Prom. It sort of got lost in the shuffle.

“Gonna tell me? Or are you still on the no-telling policy.” He raises a brow.

“Never going to be on the no-telling policy again. You’re taking me to Prom.” I smile.

“Well, I guess that’s the easy way to ask.” He laughs. “Awesome.”

My heart completely swells at this. We really, really are okay. The shakiness from earlier is starting to disappear—the part of me that wondered if we’d be able to move
past
what I put between us. What we both put between us.

“I met your parents.” And the nerves come back just thinking about it. “I mean, I’ve met your mom. You already know this.” Why am I so nervous? “But I’ve only sort of met your dad.”

“How was it?” He keeps his arms around my waist, but leans back far enough to see my face.

“He’s nice. He loves you guys a lot—you and your brothers. It took me a while to find your face. He sees you all as pretty little.” I run the picture over in my mind again, but am still a bit creeped out by the way his dad looked at me.

“That figures.” His cheeks redden. “So, I guess we’re sort of past the embarrassing baby pictures phase then?”

“Well, I just saw one, and you weren’t naked in the bathtub, so I don’t think it counts,” I tease.

“Oh, great.” He cocks an eyebrow.

“This is going to sound weird,” I warn.

“Okay.” He leads me to his couch and we sit. He’s so good about not breaking contact once we touch.

I feel Landon’s eyes on me as I look around. The room is huge, like a whole house. He has a couch, a TV, a mini-fridge. It feels like an oversized college dorm. Everything is beige and blue and does not look like Landon. I’d guess his mom hired a decorator. One whole wall of his room is windows. We’re on the third floor
,
and the view of the ocean is amazing.

“You wanted to tell me something weird?” he asks.

“Right.” I take a breath. “Your dad said something about talents, and I felt like he...”

“Knows more than he let on?” Landon’s voice is odd and monotone.

A wave of something like fear slides through me. “Yeah.”

“Me, too.” Landon nods. “I don’t know what to make of it. He’s asked a ton about you. And he’s never really asked about my girlfriends before. It could just be because he knows I’ve never felt this way. Maybe that’s it.” But even as he says the words he doesn’t sound very convincing.

“Maybe.” Hopefully. But as soon as I let
hopefully
into my head, I know that’s not it. There’s something else.

“I also overheard him on the phone the other day talking to one of his business partners for The Middle Men business group that’s he’s in.” Landon’s face is pulled into this mask of concentration. “I swear I heard your name, and then I wasn’t so sure. He said something else about waiting for me to realize something, but it was through a door, and maybe I was just hearing things that weren’t there.”

I can’t imagine why Landon’s dad would be talking about me, or what on earth he’s waiting for Landon for, but the explanation is
hopefully
something very simple. It still doesn’t change my uneasiness in being around them.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

I redden from the honesty in his voice, or maybe just from being in a moment with him this intense, but love the way he’s looking at me too much to move my eyes from him.

“I’m glad we’re okay.” His hand squeezes mine.

And now that I have someone to talk to again, and now that I want to be honest, it feels like maybe I can tell him. Maybe he can help. Mostly now that I’ve started telling people things, I’m starting to rely on it. “There’s some weird stuff going on, and I think I might be going crazy.”

“What’s going on?” He settles into the couch, waiting, eyes on me.

“I think. I mean, I’ve felt like, a few times, that I’ve seen something moving in the woods.” Did I just say something that will make him know I’m as messed up as I think I am?

I watch Landon do a dramatic version of the shiver that probably just passed through his body. “Well you’re not walking home alone.”

I’m sort of amazed he didn’t just laugh.

“When we first moved here, I sort of ran into your dad on my way down to the water, and he asked about seeing things, and I swear when he looks at me, that he’s looking
around
me.” I’m not even making sense to myself. How can I possibly expect Landon to understand?

“So, I’ll watch my dad a little more closely, okay?” He swallows once, hard, and that’s the only indication that our conversation is making him nervous.

My head shakes. “It’s not. I mean. I’m still half-convinced that it’s my imagination, you know?”

“You should know better, Micah. With you comes a whole lot of weird crap that shouldn’t be real.” He smirks, but his body is tense, showing me he’s still on edge.

“A whole lot of weird crap?” I try to tease, immediately glad I said something.

“Do you know anyone else who does what you do?” His hands tighten as he leans toward me with wide, half-teasing eyes.

“My dad,” I retort.

“Any other crazy coming from your little house?” The tease in his voice makes it easier to talk.

Should I tell him about Mom? The oddness there? No amount of teasing can make me feel okay about that black and white picture—especially now that it’s laced with fear. “I’ve gotten this weird vision from my mom. A few times now.” For some reason telling someone else makes it more real. Makes my insides quake with the unknown. “All I see is bright white, a brief feeling of shock or fear, and then black. But the thing is, both times I touched her again right away and both times it was already something different.”

“Is that normal?” He scoots lower in the couch, and I’m again sort of amazed that we’re just sitting here talking about this craziness, and he’s okay with it.

“The vision or the seeing something else?” I try to keep my tone light, but it’s so…strange.

“I guess both.”

“The problem is that once I touch someone, I don’t usually try to touch them again. Only you and Mom. When I was having a bad day as a kid, I’d touch her over and over, just to feel how she feels for me. With you, it was to see if something had changed. So, I don’t know what to do with a vision that changes like that. And there’s nothing in the one I see to suggest any kind of place or anything. Just white, fear, and then black.” Nerves settle into the pit of my stomach as I wait for his response.

He stares at his lap for a moment. “I’m sorry I can’t help, and I’m almost afraid to ask.” He stops so long that I don’t think he will. “But what did you see from Lacey?”

“I told you already.” I suddenly feel the need to wipe my palms and take a deep breath in.

“The moment was intense.” He looks away from me. Intense is one way of saying we were yelling at each other. “Please?”

My chest sinks and dread seeps through me. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Nothing could be worse than holding her, Micah.”

I lean sideways resting my head against the back of his couch. The guilt hits me again. “I saw the party, the people. Everything was blurry, and then it slowly went black. Just like she fell asleep or something. That’s it.”

My words hang in the air, and he’s so still, so silent that I’m not sure how to take it. I’m suddenly very glad I didn’t tell him how I felt her fear. It’s really the emotion that makes it all too real.

“Are you scared? For your mom?” His voice is barely above a whisper, as his finger strokes my cheek.

“I guess I am, but it all feels so out of my control that I don’t want to be.” But it sort of hits me hard, and now it’s me who’s fighting off chills. The whole conversation feels
like it can’t
be happening because even though I’ve been doing this my whole life, so much of it doesn’t seem like it could be real—all the shadows and strange visions from my mom.

“You know you can call me, right? If you want to talk or need help?”

I nod once, and his lips are on mine, soft and simple.

And that’s the only think I want to think about right now. The fact that Landon wants to know this, wants to do this with me.

I wish there was something he could actually do.

***

His arm is tight around me as we walk the driveway back to my house. I’ve gotten good at staring at my feet. It’s like I’ve decided that if I can’t see anything, nothing’s there. But when Landon talks, it’s like I
have
to look at him. I sorta love that, too.

“So, I want to talk about you not knowing what to do in school, and not liking people.” He winks.

I narrow my eyes, even though I know he’s teasing.

“Well, I’ve thought of an escape.” Landon’s face is all mischievous smile.

“What are you talking about?”

“I want you to come sailing with me.”

My jaw drops.
Landon wants me with him?

“Just hear me out.” He’s not looking at me now, and his breathing changes enough tha
t I’m pretty sure he’s nervous, which I think i
s a first.

I’m staring at him in shock. “But, school—”

“And where did you plan to go?” He’s teasing me again. He knows how undecided I am.

“That’s not the point.” Is it?

“Look, Micah, if you want to do college first, I get it and I’ll do it with you. We could sail later on, or during school breaks or something or after we graduate. I thought about buying a boat in Maine or Massachusetts or New York. You could just sail down the east coast with me this summer and then go to school in the fall. Or, if you’re hooked, like I think you will be.” His grin widens. “We could just keep heading south. You know I have to get to the Bahamas. Especially with
the project
…”