Insight (5 page)

My face. Warm Sun. A lot of like.

“You didn’t even know Lacey,” he spits out.

I drop my hot chocolate, still in shock over what I just saw. And
felt
. My heart sprints. There has to be something wrong with my head. Landon’s gaze shifts from the hot chocolate sprayed over the ground to what must be a ridiculous look of shock on my face.

This. Cannot. Be. Happening.

Landon likes
me
? Or is going to?

Wait. Lacey?
Lost
? How does he mean?

I turn and start for home, my head spinning in too many directions. Me seeing myself from Landon can’t be real. Can’t. It has to be because he’s drunk, right?

He lost Lacey. The vision from her hits me as I continue to move.
Please let that vision be in the past. Please.

“Micah!” Steven calls.

I ignore him. Why did I have to sit down with Steven this morning? It goes against all the rules I set out for myself in how not to be seen.

“Micah! Sorry!” he calls.

I don’t look back, just give a half wave, so I don’t seem like a total nut-job.

A stab of sadness hits me. Why do I feel bad for leaving Steven behind? Why did I have to see my
face
from Landon? Do I want to know what he means about Lacey? She just passed out. Happens all the time. My stomach flips over, and then over again. I press my hands against my middle to stop the movement.

“Sorry, Micah!” Steven calls.

I don’t slow. I have to get home. Home is safe. Home is my view of the ocean and my quiet hammock chair. Home is away from people. Except for Mom and the man and her vision of me on the porch crying…
Crap
.

I round the corner to our apartment and stop in front of the newspape
r stand. The headline
slams into me.

YOUNG TEEN DIES OF ALCOHOL POISONING

Nononononono
. I take two steps forward and kneel on the damp concrete.

Lacey Williams, age eighteen, died of alcohol poisoning at just before midnight while at a party wi
th her classmates. She was taken
to the hospital, and pronounced dead on arrival. This raises issues with our youth…

I can’t breathe. At all. There’s this crazy wheezing sound coming from my chest, but I’m still not getting any air.

Grasping onto the edges of the newspaper stand, I pull myself up. Only I’m not myself. I’m someone else. I have to be. I saw it. Saw her. Twice. And practically rolled my eyes at the absurdity and immaturity of it all. And now she’s gone. Lost. Dead.

Why did I have to see it? Feel it? Why did I have to
know
?

When I step into our apartment, I have no idea how I got here. I step inside and Mom leaps off the bed at the expression on my face.

“Micah?”

Tears start streaming. I should have done something. Anything. Learned more about her. I did nothing. She died. I did nothing. I yelled at Landon. The guy who lost his friend. Lost.

Mom’s arms come
around me.

Kind eyes. Juvenile tie. Soft smile. Love?

I don’t want to see anymore! I just want to be normal.
And the vision from Mom
brings back the vision from Lacey. It’s like I was with her when she died. Part of what happened to her.
Died
.

My vision from Landon had to be a fluke. He’d never like someone who saw his friend die and said nothing. I don’t like the girl with visions right now either.

My body begins to shake in sobs as Mom pulls me into bed. I want to crawl in a hole and hide. Never go to school again. Never leave the house again.

Never touch someone again.

Ever.

SIX

My blue eyes stare into my blue eyes in the mirror, and I wonder if the picture bounces back and forth between them.

The weight of Lacey’s death hangs on me. I can’t believe I have to go to school today.

“Micah!” Mom calls from our miniature living room. “We’re going to be late!”
             

“One more minute!” I don’t do much to get myself ready, which means I’m not usually running late.

But I’m also not usually going to school on a Monday after a classmate dies.

I still can’t take my
eyes off my eyes in the mirror
. Okay, gotta move.

I grab two ponytail holders for my unruly hair.

I put on mascara and lip balm.

I turn and walk out of the bathroom.

I slide into a plain pair of black ballet flats.

All normal things for a normal day.

But today is not normal.

“Ready?” Mom asks as I step into the room.

I look down at myself, which is silly. It’s not like I forgot to put on pants. If I’m forgetting something, it’ll be too small for me to notice. Right now all I hope for is to be touched the least amount possible. Getting hit with too much emotion today would probably send me over the edge.

Mom’s standing with the door open and her bag over her shoulder, waiting. “Micah?”

“Uh…yeah. Sure. I’m ready.”
I have no idea
.

We step out of the apartment into the narrow hallway. I smile as I remember what it was like to move our stuff in through this tiny, steep space, until my brain sees fit to give me another look at Lacey. It sucks the air from me and caves my chest in again with guilt. Today is not going to be easy.

“You look nervous,” Mom comments as we head down the three flights of stairs.

“I’m fine, why?” I stare at the steps, unwilling to even attempt to look her in the eye. She reads me too well.

“That girl dying really shook you up, didn’t it?” She’s two steps behind me, and I’m glad. I don’t know how well I’d be able to hide my face.

“A little.” A lot.

She puts her arm around me and gives me a squeeze, now matching my steps. We barely fit side by side in the narrow stairway.

Love. M
y face.

That’s my vision from her. The one I’ve missed so much. I feel how she loves me and it helps me to relax. Mom’s my safe place. Well, for now.

“We ready?” she asks as we step outside into the damp, winter air.

“Yep.” Not at all.

As she pulls up the street, I realize I’m actually going to have to be there today. At school. There’s no excuse not to be. No one knows I might have been able to save her. No one knows. It just
feels
like it’s something that’s stamped across my forehead. I wonder how many times I’ll have to tell myself this to get through my classes?

I also wonder when I’ll find the courage to tell Mom what I see. Because being able to share this with someone,
anyone
, sounds amazing. Or maybe it would mean that more people than me would know I should have
done
something.

***

As I walk toward the school, staring at my feet, I nearly run into someone.

I suck in a breath, and narrowly miss bumping his shoulder.

Then my heart drops. Landon. I stop until he’s several paces ahead. My hands clutch my stomach
as queasiness starts to take over
.
Please don’t throw up.

Josh steps in next to Landon, throwing his arm over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe I have to even
be
here today,” Landon says.

“It won’t be as bad as you think.”

“It’ll be
exactly
as bad as I think.”

I can’t help but wonder why he’s here. It seems like when a friend dies, you should get time off. If Mom knew what I saw, maybe she would have given
me
the day off. Or the rest of the year.

His palm hits the outside of his eye. Is Landon
crying
? His footsteps are heavy and slow as he heads for the front door,
jerks it open, and walks inside.
Josh f
ollows
close behind.
Hopefully there’s more to his friend than meets the eye, because Landon will definitely need it.

I stand just outside, still unsure if I can make it today. What a horrible person I am. Landon has to go to school, and I don’t? I barely knew her.

I just saw what happened.

This sucks.

***

The mood in the whole school is somber. Even the kids that didn’t know about Lacey over the weekend, probably heard about it in school first thing this morning. I see a few notes being passed, and some quiet whispers, but no smiling. No stifled giggles. We’re all heading to class, staring at our books, and probably all thinking about a different version of the same girl.

In psychology, Mrs. Tutt decides to forgo our lesson in favor of talking about Lacey and the effect her death is likely to have on the whole student body. My face feels stiff and thick, my eyes are floating in water, and my heart’s pounding so hard I can’t hear her voice. All I can hear is the blood rushing through my body, threatening to take me over, or make me pass out.

I need out now.

I grab my binder, stand up, and walk out. Just like that. Who knew it was so easy? I can’t tell if she called my name, or what. It doesn’t matter. Nothing but chains could keep me in her room.

When I get to my locker, I don’t stop. I keep walking. I walk down the stairs and out the back door. I don’t even try to hide myself in the large pine trees surrounding the school. It just doesn’t matter. I keep going past all the windows of all the classrooms on the left side of the building, and I still can’t bring myself to care. I’m lighter. Like part of me expected to be tackled if I tried to le
ave the building. But no one stopped me
. I’m free.

As I walk past the parking lot, I see Landon’s hooded figure jog out to his car. The engine on his Mustang revves to life, and then revves
again. I move to the sidewalk.

Landon’s grief, if that’s what it is, only adds to my guilt. I hear the pump of the bass from here, and the squeal of his tires as his car leaves the school parking lot sideways in a burst of rubber smoke.

Again. This sucks. Now I suddenly feel like I didn’t just let Lacey down. I let him down, too.

***

When I get home, I lock the door behind me, step out onto our porch, and suck in a few short breaths that might be the start of crying. I climb into my hammock chair and clench my jaw to keep the tension from my day. Letting
it go would be like defeat. Lacey’s
panic and the party going black hits me again, and again, and again, and I can’t shake it.

Maybe I could tell Mom.

I could tell her about my vision, about how I could have saved a life. Or maybe I could have told her before the weekend, before it happened. Maybe something could have been different. Or maybe Lacey was sealed into her fate in a way I don’t understand.

Still, the tears of guilt flow down my cheeks, down my neck, and no amount of wiping takes away the moisture. There’s just too much.

Now I realize that this is Mom’s vision of me all teary-faced, or close to it. I had
two
clues, one from Mom and one from Lacey, and still I did nothing. I need to get out of this chair before Mom gets home to save her from what I know she feels in finding me here, but not now. I just need a few more minutes.

***

Mom’s voice wakes me from my nap in my swing. “I got a call from your school today that said you walked out of fifth period and never went back.” Her voice tells me she’s not yet sure if she should be angry or concerned. There’s a tinge of both.

I don’t move. Wait. I didn’t make it out of the chair. This just lends weight to the idea that I see things I can’t change. Brilliant. I knew Mom saw me this way. I had the chance to change it, and it still didn’t change. This should make me feel better about Lacey, but it doesn’t. Not really.

The whole Lacey mess weighs me down like it’s my fault, and no one can tell me different. Because no one knows what I do. And no one will know what I saw. And if they did, they’d probably just confirm what I’ve been chanting in my head since I found out.
I could have done something. Told someone. Why didn’t I?

“Micah?” Her serious mom face slowly falls. “Is this about the girl who died?”

I can’t start this. “I don’t know what happened, Mom.” Although I kind of do. “I just had to get out of school today.”

Her liquid blue eyes fill with sympathy. “Micah, you know you can talk to me, right?”

“Yeah.” I nod.
I can talk to you about everything but this. Because I’m almost eighteen, and I’ve just kept it to myself for too long. It’s too late. You’d be too devastated that I never said anything.
It takes every ounce of my strength not to burst into tears again. My chest, my heart, my throat all have this fluttery, watery, floating feeling. One wrong move will send me over the edge, and there would be no good way to explain that.