Cipher (The Cipher Series) (12 page)

“I won’t. I promise.” Summer got out her lunch: A peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a mini bag of Doritos, and a sandwich bag filled with Oreos.

Ashlyn shook her head. “I seriously can’t believe all you eat is junk food. It’s so unfair.”

“It’s not junk food. There’s…fruit in the jam. Yeah, that makes it healthy.”

Troy plopped down next to
Summer, straddling the bench and facing her instead of the table. “Meant to tell you earlier, but you look very rocker today.”

Summer tucked a frizzy curl behind her ear. “This is what happens when I don’t do my hair.”

One corner of Troy’s mouth twisted up. “I like it.” He glanced at Ashlyn. “I hear you got Sunshine out in the water this morning. Is she any good?”

“Not yet,” Ashlyn said. “But she will be once I’m through with her.”

Troy stole one of Summer’s Oreos and stood. “See you guys around.” With that, he was off. His visits were always so sporadic. A quick hi. A cookie snatching. A compliment about her wild hair—warmth filled her chest as she thought about that last one. She definitely preferred rocker to a huge mess.

But why’s he in such a hurry to be somewhere else, lately?

She twisted and watched him weave his way through the cafeteria. People stopped to talk or wave, no matter what group they were in. Skaters, gamers, stoners—there was some overlap there—the drama club, the people who were somewhere in between jocks and geeks, girls, guys. Basically Troy knew everyone, and everyone knew him.

Darren scooted next to Ashlyn, drawing
Summer’s attention. It took almost an entire week, but Summer finally saw the small differences between him and Aaron. “Hey, I’ve got a joke for you guys.”

Summer propped her elbows on the table. “It’s been a while since I heard a good joke.”

Darren readjusted his round glasses. “How many computer support staffers does it take to change a light bulb?” He raised his eyebrows and looked at them, apparently waiting for an answer.

“No clue,” Ashlyn said.

He didn’t say anything, simply sat there like someone had hit his pause button.

Ashlyn nudged him. “Tell us.”

“Four. One to ask what the registration number of the bulb is, one to ask if you’ve tried to reboot, another to ask if you’ve tried reinstalling, and the last to say it must be your hardware, because our light bulb here is working fine.” He broke into laughter and smacked the table with his open palm.

Summer laughed more at his reaction to the joke than the actual punch line.

“So what did you think?” he asked.

“You know how I said it’s been a while since I’ve heard a good joke?” Summer was going to say,
It still has
, but he looked so proud and sincere, and she didn’t know if he’d get her sarcasm. “I guess I’ll have to restart my countdown.”

Darren made a fist and yanked it down. “Score!”

Aaron scooted down. “Okay, if you think that one is good, wait until you hear mine…”

Summer listened to another computer joke that she didn’t even come close to getting, but she laughed anyway. Although she didn’t have much in common with anyone in this group besides Ashlyn, she felt more relaxed here. No one mentioned her hair needed serum or whose parents were getting divorced. They didn’t imply Dad was dating someone too young for him. Regardless of the fact most of them got teased on a regular basis, they seemed so confident in who they were. She admired that about them.

It wasn’t like she could divulge her biggest secret—that she sometimes saw deaths before they happened. Or that she and the Angel of Death were on a first name basis. Still, here existed a security she didn’t feel with her other friends. An acceptance that didn’t rely on whom you were dating, what you wore, or if you were any good at sports.

Aaron looked across the table and flashed his crooked grin at her. “We’re glad you come hang out with us sometimes.”

“I have a good time over here,” Summer said. “Where else can you get lunch
and
computer jokes?”

Aaron’s eyebrows lowered. “Do you want the statistics, or is that one of those rhetorical questions I keep getting in trouble for answering?”

“It was rhetorical, but it’s good to know I can come to you if I’m looking for stats.”

That prompted him to pull out his calculator and show her a program he had in it to help calculate statistics. When
Summer’s gaze drifted up, she saw some of the girls from the dance team pointing at them. Summer waved, but the girls walked away without waving back, or even acknowledging her presence.

Maybe they didn’t see me
. Come to think of it, though, she was getting a lot of icy looks from the squad. She supposed she should stick around after practice and try to make nice before she lost half her friends.

This whole balance thing was trickier than she’d expected. Add one more item to her Things-I’m-failing-at list.

***

Summer dragged herself upstairs to her bedroom, every step taking way more effort than it should. During practice, several of the girls had made catty comments to her, and because of her early morning surf session, she hadn’t had the desire or energy to hang out afterwards to try to repair things. If they wanted to be rude, that was their problem.

Gabriella sat on the foot of the bed, drumming her fingers on her thighs. If Summer had enough energy to run in the other direction, she would’ve. The Angel of Death straightened, her eyes brightening, so it was too late anyway. “Hello, Summer Dear! How are things coming along with Ashlyn and her mom?”

Geez, is the woman never
not
cheery?
Summer swung her door closed and tossed her bag on the floor. “I’m starting to think that Ashlyn’s mom deserves to feel guilty. Ashlyn will be happy, then Pamela puts her down, and her self-esteem plummets.”

“Well, that’s exactly why you’re supposed to be helping them repair their relationship, and you need to do it soon. Before it’s too late.”

The reason Summer had gotten to know Ashlyn was because Gabriella told her to. Because Ashlyn was dying. An ache radiated over her heart, and she pressed her hand to her chest. Over the past few days she’d found out just how awesome Ashlyn was. She hadn’t wanted her to die before, but now… The ache sharpened, digging in its claws. “Can’t I do something to keep her from dying?”

Gabriella let out a long-suffering sigh. “This is your problem.
You
don’t realize the importance of your
job
.”

Summer ran a hand through her hair and flopped down on the bed next to Gabriella. “But I still have some time, right?”

“She’s got a little while yet, but that doesn’t mean you can waste it doing nothing.”

Her first instinct was to argue that she wasn’t doing
nothing
. She bit it back, trying to focus on what would help Ashlyn. “I just think she’ll trust me the more I get to know her. Then I’ll be able to do a better job figuring out how to help her.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but you’ve got to put a rush on it. I’m not sure what else to tell you. You should be a natural at this. I’m not used to working with someone who doesn’t—” Her head jerked up. “Your dad’s coming. I’ll try to check in again soon. But please, get moving on this.”

There was a knock on the door—Dad, apparently.

Summer waved her hand though the glittery outline Gabriella left, trying to disperse it. She wasn’t sure if Dad would be able to see it, but just in case, she thought it’d be easier to make sure it was gone than try to explain. When it finished fading, she raised her voice. “Come on in.”

Dad stepped inside and looked around. “It sounded like you were talking to someone.”

“I was on the phone.”

“Funny, because you left this in the key bowl.” Dad held up her cell phone. “It kept ringing, so I decided it might be important. You know, Kendall might’ve broken a nail or something.”

Summer bit her lip as Dad’s eyes bored into her. “I talk to myself sometimes. I didn’t want to say that because it makes me feel like a crazy person.”

Dad nodded his head and gave her a weak smile. “I talk to her too sometimes.”

Dad knows about Gabriella?
“You do?”

“Sure. I miss your mom as much as you do. If I talk aloud, it sometimes feels like she’s listening.”

A giant lump formed in Summer’s throat. Ever since Tiffany had entered the picture, she’d decided Dad didn’t miss Mom as much as he should. Now, she felt like
she
didn’t miss her as much as she should. “You think she knows what we’re doing? That we miss her?”

Dad crossed the room and sat next to her, right where Gabriella was only moments ago. “I’m sure she does.”

Summer wondered what Mom thought about everything. How superficial she’d become since moving here, how she’d shut everything out, losing the independent person she used to pride herself on being in the process. And what did Mom think about Summer’s new job?

Dad patted
Summer’s knee, and she suddenly wanted to tell him everything. She knew he’d have good advice to help her out with her Cipher job. But she couldn’t think of a way to tell him about it without disclosing her darkest secret. Without telling him she didn’t try hard enough to keep Mom alive.

Chapter Twelve

“Is something wrong?” Troy asked her as he pulled in front of Off the Record. “You’ve hardly said a word.” After chemistry class, he’d asked
Summer if she wanted to go with him after school to get the new Monkey Saddle vinyl he’d ordered. He’d promised her fries across the street afterward, too, as if she’d needed any more motivation that flipping through old records with him. What she hadn’t expected, though, was the icky sensation she’d have in her gut by the time school let out. Or the desperation she’d feel after wracking her brain all day for a way to help Ash and still ending up with a whole lot of nothing.

“I’m a little tired,” she said. Not a complete lie. All the stress and worry had made it impossible to sleep last night. The truth played over and over in her head: She needed to think of some way to help Ashlyn and Pamela repair their relationship, and failure was not an option. Gabriella claimed she should be a natural, which only made the icky sensation worse. Nothing about her problem-solving job seemed natural. In fact, she kept coming up blank, then the depression would hit.

The sun hit Troy’s silver thumb ring, sending light bouncing around the car. “We don’t have to do this now. I can get the album later.”

Good thing she was an expert at forcing down her problems and acting like everything was cool. “Nonsense. We’re already here, and I’ll feel better once I get my blood pumping. Plus, you promised there would be fries.”

He smiled, easing the concern in his features. “So, so many fries.”

For the first time all day, she found herself smiling for real. Being around Troy calmed her, and she could use a lot of help in that department. She got out of the car and met Troy on the sidewalk.

The chime over the door rang as they pushed inside the record store. Summer inhaled the air that only a mix of old and new records could bring. Aisles of records filled the place, treasures she’d love to take home. Only she usually chose CD or digital versions, whereas Troy had a record player and the collection to go with it.

His album would be waiting behind the counter, but he walked to the shelves and started to flip through them. Summer stuck next to him, watching his expressions as he took in each album. He wrinkled his nose. Nodded at the next one. Pulled out an old Aerosmith album—Pump—and ran his hand across the cover, which basically looked like one truck humping another.

“Already have this one, though,” he said, more to himself she thought, then put it back.

“One of your dad’s?”

He nodded. A large part of his collection had been his dad’s, though he avoided talking about the guy for the most part. In fact, he was moving on, obviously not wanting to say anything else about the subject.

Summer drifted in the other direction. Up front they had buttons and key chains. She was definitely ready to get rid of her clunky one. As she spun through the rack, though, her thoughts drifted back to Ashlyn. Days ago she’d been laughing and hanging out with Ashlyn, thinking how awesome it was to find someone who got her. Ashlyn didn’t care when she went off on random tangents. She seemed to like her sarcasm and weird jokes. In fact, she added to them. Laughed along with her.

I’ve never clicked with anyone like I’ve clicked with her.
Her heart was folding in on itself again, the ickiness spreading throughout her insides once more.

There had to be a way around it. A way to make up for the lives she couldn’t save. She was sure if she concocted a good enough plan, she could find a way to change the future.
To keep Ash alive.

“How about that one?” Troy asked.

Summer hadn’t even heard him come over. She followed his finger and saw him pointing to a keychain that said,
I’m not crazy. ask my invisible friend.
He reached down and picked up another.
cute but psycho, kind of evens things out.

The first one seemed like a joke, but now worry was taking hold. Had other people noticed she was starting to lose it? “Why would you suggest those?”

“Well, this one because you’re cute, and this one because you’re a little crazy.” Troy nudged her. “Come on, it’s a joke.”

Right. If it was a joke it might be funny. “I think I’ll just keep the one I have. Or take it off. I don’t really need a keychain. It’s not like I can’t find my keys as long as I have the canister of mace attached to them.”

The urge to get out of the store overwhelmed her. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be in here anymore.”

“One sec.
Gotta buy my stuff first.”

Summer twisted a strand around her hair as she waited, shifting her wait from one foot to another. Troy was laughing with the cashier, in no hurry whatsoever. Summer kept glancing at the door. Her pulse was picking up speed. She needed out
of here. Now.

She started for the door.

Troy caught up to her as she was pushing out of it. “I should’ve known you had a time limit before the need for fries caught up to you.”

As they stepped onto the sidewalk,
Summer bumped into a man who’d been walking the other direction.

The man’s head drops down. Pops back up. His eyes droop again, and his head dips further down. The car veers right, narrowly missing another car.
Slams into the concrete, the metal peeling away from the barrier. His head hits the steering wheel, his right side—arm, leg—lost in a sea of metal. He takes a few gasping breaths for air, wheezing and coughing. His last breath slips past his bloody lips.

Summer’s vision cleared and she stared up at the man. “If you’re tired, you should drink a Redbull or something,” she blurted at him, half-angry, half-desperate.

His brow furrowed. “
You
bumped into
me
.”

She flung her arms up. “I’m not talking about here on the sidewalk! I’m talking about before you drive anywhere.”

Looking at her like she was she was a lunatic, he shook his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

Summer jabbed a finger into his chest. “I’m serious. This isn’t a joke. You could endanger other people. You could kill somebody.” Then her job came to mind. “And have you made peace with your family? You don’t want to leave them wondering if you care about them.”

Troy grabbed her hand and tugged her away. The man stared after her, mouth hanging open. She tried to yank out of Troy’s grasp, but his fingers tightened, and she had no choice but to force her feet to follow. After a couple of large strides, he spun around, his green eyes searching her face. “What was
that
all about?”

The ground spun under her, and her knees felt like they might buckle. Black spots danced across her vision, and then came the icy, black feeling that started in the pit of her stomach and rose up to settle in her chest. She gripped Troy’s arms, holding onto him so she wouldn’t fall, and tried to blink the world back into focus.

When it did, Troy was still staring at her, apparently waiting for an answer.

“He…He looked tired,”
Summer said. “Did you know falling asleep at the wheel is one of the leading causes of death?” When she started seeing people dying, morbid curiosity drove her to research those kinds of things.

“The poor guy was just walking down the sidewalk, and you went off on him. He didn’t even look that tired.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the man walking in the opposite direction, and she was pretty sure he was muttering something to himself. Summer turned back to Troy. He was still staring at her, concern swimming in his green eyes.

How in the world am I going to explain this?
The answer was simple. She wasn’t. Because he’d never believe the real explanation.

She slowly released the death-grip she had on Troy and took a deep breath. “Well, I’m tired. Let’s go get something to eat.” She hoped food would help settle her stomach. It suddenly felt like she hadn’t eaten all day. Like she might even pass out if she didn’t get something soon.

She started toward the restaurant, wishing the food was in her hands already. But Troy’s hand wrapped around her elbow, holding her in place. “I can tell something’s up, you know. Sometimes you seem really happy, then sometimes really low.”

If she turned back to look at him, she was going to burst into tears. So she kept her eyes glued to the streetlight flashing for pedestrians to go and said, “Congratulations, you’ve just described every girl on the planet. If you can’t handle my mood swings, I guess you’ll have to go hang out with your guy friends.” She yanked her arm away. “But for now, your moody friend would like some fries.”

This time Troy didn’t stop her; he simply followed.

They ordered their food, not bothering with small talk while they waited. Finally, the food came, and even though her stomach was still rolling, she was also
starving
. But no matter how much Summer ate, she still felt empty. The nightmares would come tonight. They always did after a brush with someone else’s death.

Troy pushed his now-empty plate aside and leaned forward, his eyes locked on hers, his jaw set in determination. “I know that Kendall claims to be your oldest friend here, but she’s wrong. I met you first, and let’s face it, I’m better with the deeper stuff.” He threw out a smile, but it was a tight, cautious smile. “So. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Summer had to glance away, because it seemed like those eyes could see straight through her. It was the same intense stare that had caused her to open up to him about Mom all those months ago. Last June, while everyone else had been celebrating the end of school at a giant party, she and Troy had an intense conversation about their parents. She’d gone on and on about Mom—though she hadn’t told him quite everything—and he’d opened up about his dad, who’d left him and his mom several years ago.

“I’m tired and stressed is all. I’m fine. Really,” she said, because there was nothing else she could say. Under the starlit sky that night all those months ago with Troy, she’d almost felt whole again. But then she hadn’t seen him all summer, and now…Well, telling him she was seeing the Angel of Death and that she sometimes saw people’s lives ending? That would only land her in a mental institution.

***

Still feeling crappy from her encounter with the guy in North Park and having to lie to Troy, who didn’t say a word the
entire
way home, Summer rushed up the stairs to her room. She needed to flop on her bed and turn up her music, loud enough it’d drown out thoughts of people dying.

So
of course
Gabriella was standing in the middle of her bedroom, hair slightly disheveled, pink skirt looking extra puffy today.
So much for avoiding death.

In theory, Dad couldn’t see her. Summer decided to shut the door anyway.

Gabriella stuck her fists on her hips and scowled at Summer. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

Summer ran over her day in her head, trying to figure out what Gabriella was talking about. “I didn’t say anything. Not to my dad. Or to Troy.”

“I mean Larry. The man you yelled at on the sidewalk. He got all freaked out, went overboard on the caffeine, and almost hit another person when his car wrecked. Other people could’ve been killed because of your interference.”

What little energy she had, leaked out of her, and she sagged against her wall. “So he’s dead?”

“No thanks to you,” Gabriella huffed. “Do you realize how bad things could get if you mess with fate?”

A sharp pain jabbed
Summer between the ribs. She knew how bad they could get if you didn’t. She pushed off the wall, a tornado of frustration and sorrow churning inside her. “If I’m doing such a crap job then fire me.”

Gabriella pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “You were trying to do a Guardian Angel’s job. Not your job.

“Well maybe I’d rather be a Guardian Angel, then.”

“Sorry, dear. You have to have died already to fulfill that position. Are you ready to leave all this behind?” Gabriella gestured around her and then crossed her arms firmly across her chest. “So, you have something not ideal going on in your life. What about all the things you do have?
A nice home. Friends. Your dad.”

“I don’t have my mom.” It burst out of her, along with a couple of tears. “I
need
my mom.”

Gabriella’s stern posture loosened. She reached out and gently wiped a tear from
Summer’s cheek. “Yes, I do feel for you there. I’m sorry that’s been so hard on you, but some people don’t have any family. Or they do, and their families don’t treat them well. Some people go hungry. Some people have a debilitating disease.” Her hand moved to Summer’s shoulder, and she flashed her a consoling smile. “We all have our lots in life, and this is yours. If you’d try a little bit, you’d see that you’re good at it.”

“But what if that Larry guy needed some resolution? I thought that
was
what I was supposed to do. That
is
in my job description, according to you.”

“If he needed one, we’d already have a Cipher on it, long before you saw him die. Most people don’t need Ciphers. We only send you gals in when we know the circumstances call for a little extra help.”