Double Vision (5 page)

“Oof!”

There was the sickening crunch of helmets and bodies crashing together as the West River player took Brayden down right in front of us. The crowd on the opposite stands whooped, while a sigh of disappointment went up from our side.

Then, a different sound cut through the racket as Brayden rolled over and let out an earsplitting shriek of pain.

“BRAYDEN!” I EXCLAIMED as I saw him writhing in agony. Beside me, I heard Cait gasp in shock. I was surprised she'd noticed the tackle, even if it had happened right in front of us, since she'd been babbling on about something pointless. Classic Caitlyn.

As I looked down at Brayden, I didn't stop to think—I just reacted, leaping out of my seat. All around me I could hear people shouting: “What happened?” “I think he's hurt!”

But I ignored them all as I ran to the sideline, focused on him.
Brayden's face was twisted beneath his helmet, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Hold still,” I ordered him, grabbing his hand. “You don't want to hurt yourself worse.”

What do you know? All those first aid lessons Mom had drummed into us over the years had stuck. I felt weirdly calm and in control.

Brayden gripped my hand so tightly his knuckles went white. “My leg,” he moaned.

I glanced at his leg and blanched. It didn't look right—the lower part of the leg was twisting away at an odd angle. Oh, man. This couldn't be good.

The player who'd tackled him was already on his feet, hovering nearby. “He okay?” he asked in a gruff voice. “I didn't hit him that hard, I swear.”

“Stay still, okay?” I told Brayden again. “Help will be here soon.”

I had no idea if it was true, but Brayden seemed to believe it. His eyes popped open and fixed on me, glazed with fear but focused on my face.

“Th-thanks,” he mumbled, squeezing my hand even tighter.

I glanced from his earnest, pain-shrouded hazel eyes to our hands, which were locked together tightly—as if we never wanted to let each other go. . . .

And suddenly my brain jumped to another scene like this. One
exactly
like this.

No way. I had to be making it up. The stress must have affected me, let my imagination run wild. Right? Because it was as if that weirdo-freaky vision I'd had by the water fountain was coming true! Only instead of some romantic hand-holding scene, it was . . . this.

But it couldn't be. I couldn't handle this right now. I'd already lost my home, my friends, and my social standing. I couldn't afford to lose my mind, too.

“Brayden!” A man skidded to his knees on Brayden's other side. “Buddy, you okay?”

“I don't think so, Coach,” Brayden burbled. “My leg—it hurts.”

I didn't want to stick around to hear any more.
As hard as it was to believe, only a couple of seconds had passed since I'd leaped onto the field. Adults were rushing toward us from every direction, cell phones in hand, shouting questions and instructions. I even heard the jingle of Ms. Xavier's bracelets as she hurried over, announcing that she'd already called 911.

Yanking my hand free, I staggered away, sucking in a few deep breaths and trying to take in what had just happened. I was vaguely aware that Caitlyn was calling my name, though it seemed to be coming from far away. My head spun, and I couldn't seem to stop gulping for air—I knew I needed to get away and calm myself down before I started screaming. Because what I was thinking was impossible. Totally, over-the-top crazy. It couldn't have happened. I was just imagining things; that was all.

Now all I had to do was convince myself of that. . . .

Turning, I shoved my way through the throngs of people flocking toward Brayden. Once I was free
I started to run, desperate to get away. I didn't stop until I reached the restrooms behind the visitor-side bleachers.

I collapsed against the cool, solid concrete wall and slid down to the floor. “Wow,” I muttered aloud. “So much for that romantic moment . . .”

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or burst into tears. What had happened back there? It went way beyond déjà vu. Because I knew exactly where I'd seen-felt-
experienced
that moment before.

But how? How could I possibly have seen something that hadn't happened yet? For a second I thought about the other visions I'd had. Had any of them actually come true? I had no idea.

But this one had.

“No way,” I said, clenching my fists hard, my nails digging into my palms. “This
so
isn't happening. . . .”

I sat there for a good fifteen minutes or so. My phone kept buzzing in my pocket, but I ignored it.

Finally, when it went off for the twentieth time, I yanked it out and glanced at the screen. It was a text from Cait:
Where are you? We have to talk!

I wasn't so sure. But I needed to talk to
someone
. We might not be BFFs anymore, but I'd always been able to trust her not to spill my secrets. Besides, she was almost as good as Mom at making me feel better when I was freaking out about something. And now? Yeah, I was definitely freaking out.

I texted back and she arrived minutes later, out of breath and wild-eyed. “Thank goodness!” she cried. “I didn't know what happened to you. Why'd you run off like that?”

“Long story,” I said. “How's Brayden?”

She grimaced and flopped down beside me. “They think his leg's broken. The ambulance just got here. It's taking him to the hospital over in Six Oaks. Everyone's totally panicking since Brayden's the quarterback and the home game against the Armadillos' biggest rivals is next Saturday afternoon, and—”

“Cait. Chill,” I broke in, recognizing all the signs of a manic Caitlyn monologue. When my sister started talking all fast and excited like that, it was hard to get her to stop.

She blinked at me. “What? I was just saying—”

“I know,” I said. “But listen. You said we needed to talk. And you were right. Something weird has been happening.”

Suddenly her face went pale. “What do you mean, something weird?”

I peered at her. “Is there something you're not telling me?”

“Is there something
you're
not telling
me
?” she shot back.

I took a deep breath, not quite meeting her eye. “Fine. Lately, I've been . . . seeing things. Like, things that aren't really there.”

Pausing, I waited for her to laugh. Look confused. Make fun of me.

But she'd gone completely still. She was staring at me, her eyes as wide as all of Texas.

“Things?” she said after a second. “Like, what kinds of things?”

I shrugged. “Mostly stupid stuff— Wait . . . ?” My own eyes widened, mirroring her, as I got a sudden twitch of that twintuition the two of us
used to joke about. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Looking at you like what?”

I gasped. “Oh my gosh—it's been happening to you, too!”

MY HEAD WAS spinning. “So you're getting them, too? The visions?”

“Hang on.” Cass held up a hand, and I could feel her putting her guard up. “I wouldn't call them ‘visions' exactly. It's just that . . . I see weird stuff happening.”

My heart was pounding like the snare drum from the marching band. Why hadn't it occurred to me that this could be happening to my twin, too? We'd started off as two halves of the same egg, after
all. The two of us had been through everything together, from losing our first baby teeth within a week of each other to getting our tonsils out on the same day.

“So, does it happen when you touch someone?” I asked, leaning forward. “Because that's what seems to trigger it—I mean, not
every
time I touch someone, obviously.” I laughed nervously, and it came out sounding excited and breathless. I hadn't realized until that moment how good it would feel to confide in someone.

“Yeah, I guess.” Cassie shrugged. “Only once in a while, though; it's happened four or five times, maybe. I can't figure it out.”

“Same here. I thought my first vision was just a dream or something. I didn't think it was real. Remember when I had the flu last March?”

As I explained, she nodded. “My first time was sort of random and short and confusing like that, too,” she said. “It was at the mall, and I thought I was just super hungry or something. . . .” We went on from there, trading stories of each subsequent vision, each
longer, brighter, and more bizarre than the last.

“So, uh, has it happened to you since we moved to Aura?” I asked. I hadn't told her yet about my vision of Megan that first day at the bake sale. To be honest, I was kind of afraid to admit to that one since it would take Cass, oh, about half a second to figure out that it was the reason everyone thought we were weird.

Especially if I told her I'd just seen that particular vision come true.

“Once,” she said. “First day of school, when I met Brayden. Nothing too exciting, it was pretty stupid.”

All her others had been so detailed—I knew Cassie loved to tell a story—but this time she stopped short. Why wasn't she meeting my eye?

“Okay, then what did you see just now, when you took off like that? Did you have another one?”

“Not exactly.” She picked at a stray bit of grass sprouting out of the concrete. “This is going to sound crazy, okay?”

“Crazier than seeing visions?'

“Seriously, Cait. I think—I think I saw Brayden's
accident before it happened. Part of it anyway.”

She shot me a sidelong glance, as if expecting me to laugh it off. But I couldn't breathe, and my whole body started shaking. My mind was filled with the image of Megan red-faced and screaming.

“So?” she said sharply. “Are you going to sit there like a dork, or are you going to tell me I'm nuts?”

“You're not nuts,” I blurted out. “Or if you are, I guess I am, too. Because the same thing happened to me just now at the game!”

She blinked. “What? You had a vision about Brayden, too?”

“No.” I took a deep breath, knowing I
had
to tell her now. “Um, you know how Lavender and those girls have been acting like we have cooties?”

“Gee, I hadn't noticed.”

“Well, it's because I sort of bumped into them the first day we got here,” I said. “Remember how you ran out of the house? Well, Mom sent me after you, and—”

“I
knew
that's why I ran into you!” Cass exclaimed. “So what happened?”

I told her about the bake sale and the strudel and my bizarre vision of Megan. “So I was all freaked-out, because it looked like she was really scared or hurt or something,” I went on. “But when she was on top of the pyramid at halftime, yelling and red from the heat and stuff, it was like total déjà vu.” I shrugged. “What I'd seen was happening right there in front of me, but for real this time.”

“Wow.” Cassie took it all in. “This is totally wacked out. You realize that, right?”

“I guess.” I chewed my lower lip, trying to calm myself down. “But listen, it doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing.”

She made a face. “Yeah, right. Now we can get jobs as circus sideshow freaks any time we want.”

“No, for real!” My mind was starting to tick as I put it all together. “It's kind of cool, actually. I mean, we can
see the future
! How amazing is that? Maybe we should write down all our visions so far, try to figure out how they work. Maybe more of them might have come true, and—”

“Cait. Stop.” Cass frowned. “Seriously. This is so
not a cool little research project or fun party trick, okay? It's weird with a capital
W-E-I-R-D
. Personally, I'm hoping it's some odd side effect of, like, puberty or air pollution or something. In which case, maybe it'll go away. Like, soon.”

“You can't really believe that, can you? Because I don't know about you, but my visions have been getting clearer and longer and more detailed each time. Like, at first I could hardly see what was going on, and now I'm starting to get, you know, details and backgrounds and—”

“Whatever. I don't want to think about it.” She climbed to her feet. “At least if it's happening to both of us, I know it's not just me going crazy.”

“Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed. “How can you ignore something like this, especially after both of our visions just came true?” I jumped to my feet to face her. “Seriously, Cass—don't you want to know more about how it works? I mean, if we can
see
the future, who knows, maybe we can
change
it, too!” My eyes widened as that thought really sank in. “Like, what if you could have warned Brayden about
what you saw? He might have been able to avoid that broken leg!”

Cassie's head snapped around.

“So it's
my
fault Brayden's leg is busted?” she cried. “Really nice, Cait. Thanks a whole freaking lot!”

“No! That's not what I meant at all,” I said. “I just—”

“I know, I know. Trying to turn it to the bright side, as usual.” She grimaced. “Just give it a rest, okay, Susie Sunshine?”

“Okay. Still, we should probably figure out what to—”

“Another time.” She cut me off abruptly. “Right now, I think I'm over football for today. I'm out of here.”

“CAIT?” MOM STUCK her head into the hallway. “You almost finished with the hammer?”

“Uh-huh.” I tapped the nail I was pounding into the wall one last time and hung up a framed photo of our family. “It's pretty stuffy in here. Can I take a break?”

“Sure.” She waved a hand toward the door. “Go outside. Get some fresh air. And while you're out there, maybe you could pull a few weeds. I started the beds along the front walk, but they still need more help.”

I forced a smile, then headed for the front door. It was Saturday afternoon, and Mom had been working us hard to get the house in shape.

Outside, Cassie was fiddling with the broken hose faucet. She glanced at me when I stepped onto the stoop but didn't say a word.

That was pretty much how it had been since our talk outside the stadium. But she'd never been that quick to adjust to new things. Maybe I just needed to give her a little more time.

After I spent half an hour pulling weeds, Mom let me take a real break. I went into the bedroom and pulled out my laptop. I'd been searching the web like crazy every chance I got, trying to find anyone else out there who'd had similar visions as me and Cassie. It wasn't easy. There was a ton of information online about stuff like precognition and ESP,
but when it came to the personal stories? Well, I don't like to be mean, but a lot of the people posting their experiences seemed not quite right in the head, if you know what I mean.

I was reading an essay by a guy who claimed to have met his future baby in a dream when Cassie walked in. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Research.” I sat up and smiled at her. “Just trying to figure out if we're the only wackos out there who can see the future.”

Sometimes humor can snap Cass out of a funk. Today? Not so much.

“Get over it, Caitlyn,” she snapped. “Whatever's been happening to us, it has nothing to do with seeing the future. Because that's impossible. Got it?”

Then she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room.

BY THE TIME I walked into school on Monday, I still hadn't found out much more about the visions. It was times like these I wished I had a smartphone, so I could keep scrolling through the sites I found in between classes, but Mama said Cassie and I could get them when we were in high school. Until then, we were stuck with our boring old phones, but I figured I might be able to sneak in some computer time during study hall to look for information. I was sure
if I could dig up something concrete, something that sounded legit, I could convince Cassie to take a look. Then maybe we'd know how to handle this new . . . power.

I was heading toward homeroom when I heard loud voices up ahead. Rounding the corner, I saw Liam outside the classroom facing Brent—the blond B Boy—and Lavender Adams. They stood side by side, blocking the doorway.

“Sorry, nerd,” Brent said, folding his muscular arms over his chest. “There's a toll to get in now.”

“C'mon. Let me go past,” Liam said meekly, his head down.

Lavender giggled. “You heard Brent,
Lame-o
,” she said. “Pay up.”

“Yeah,” Brent said with a grin. “Either give us ten bucks now, or hand over your shoes.”

“Ew.” Lavender wrinkled her nose. “Why would we want Lame-o's stinky shoes?”

Who knew what Brent would have said next, but by then I'd heard enough. Liam was my friend, and in my world friends didn't let friends get picked
on by bullies. Stomping over to stand beside Liam, I glared straight at Brent.

“What's wrong with you, you jerk?” I said. My voice came out louder than I'd meant it to. “Nobody elected you two king and queen of homeroom. Let us through!”

Brent blinked, looking surprised. But Lavender kept scowling at me.

“Oh, don't
even
tell me you're in my face again,” she said. “Look, we already know you're crazy—both you and your sister.”

“That's right, we are. But I'd rather be crazy than be a big old bully like you any day.” I took a half step closer. “Better move, or I might sneeze some crazy all over you.”

A small crowd was gathering, drawn by the commotion. Gabe Campbell shoved his way to the front. “Watch out for that one,” he said with a sneer, pointing at me. “Her whole family's super shady.”

“What?” I shot him an irritated look, still mostly focused on Lavender and Brent.

“You heard me.” His eyes narrowed. “You'd
better watch yourself, or people in this town might start fighting fire with fire.”

“Shut up, Gabe,” Lavender snapped. “This so isn't about you.”

Gabe shrugged. “That's what you think,” he muttered, slinking past Brent into the classroom with one last scowl at me.

“So are you letting us through or not?” I said, taking a step closer to Lavender. “Because I think I feel that cray-cray sneeze coming on.”

A few people giggled at that, which got Lavender even more riled up.

“Stay away from me, you freak!” she shouted. “Come on, B. I'm over this.”

As she stalked inside, Brent shrugged and followed her. “Later, nerds,” he called back over his shoulder.

Liam just stood there, staring at the floor. “You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine. No big deal.” His smile was shaky. “Let's just go and sit down, okay?”

I nodded and followed him into class, glancing around the room to make sure there wouldn't be any more trouble. Gabe had his head down and appeared to be fishing for something in his book bag. Brent was clowning around with Biff and Buzz, not noticing us.

But Lavender? She
definitely
noticed. Her eyes bored into me the whole way back to my seat, her stare so cold I almost shivered.