The Stern and Wild Ones (The Seeker Series) (7 page)

Later that night, as I sat on my bed doing homework (which the thief had not stolen, unfortunately), I got a text on my new iPhone from Jack. He had made sure to program his number into it before we even pulled out of the Verizon parking lot and then made me call his phone to make sure it worked.

< Hey jst wntd 2 make sure ur OK. Sick r anything? >

<
I'm fine. That's an old wives tale that getting cold gives you a cold. > I have a thing about proper grammar and spelling in my text messages. I don't have a problem with other people using shorthand, as long as I don't have to look anything up, but my messages will be written with correct spelling and punctuation, thank you very much.

<
Yes maam >

<
Thanks for rescuing me today. You seem to be doing that a lot lately. >

<
My pleasure. Any time. C U 2morrow >

As I lay back on my pillow, staring at his text messages, I realized I needed to face the truth: I did indeed have a major crush on Jack Ruiz. No more denials. No more self-lies. In the span of about a week and a half we had gone from being just two strangers who had a couple classes together to a friendship of sorts. And tonight there had definitely been some flirting going on. Ok, fine. There had also been some rather unattractive jealousy on my part. I admit that, too. Happy? I sighed as I realized that I had probably totally tipped my hand to Jack. He probably
knew now that I was feeling very friendly indeed toward him.  All right, calm down. Let's take a moment to analyze the situation. On the plus side, he had not run screaming into the night. Instead, he had driven me to pick up a new cell phone (we had insurance, so it didn't cost anything. My mom says that not buying the insurance for a teenager's cell phone is just insane.) He had also made sure that we now had each other's numbers. On the minus side, he had totally backed off when he found out I was only 16. Now, just so you understand, an 18 year-old dating a 16 year-old is
not
illegal in New Mexico. I Googled it just to be sure. But there was still the issue of his probation, about which I couldn't find very much information online. I fell asleep still pondering this conundrum.

****

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful. Jack and I continued to work together in physics, he at
e lunch with Tara, Travis, and me, and we sat next to each other in English, but there had been very little progress made in the
relationship
department, if you know what I mean. By Friday, I was beginning to think I had imagined any flirting on his part. Tara was sympathetic yet practical, figuring he had backed off because of the age difference.

"But it's not even a full two years difference," I complained as I gathered book
s from my locker before school.

"Yeah, but he's 18, which means he's a legal adult and you, little missy, are still 16 for a
nother month. You're jailbait, sweetheart, and he's already got trouble with the law. Why don't we find you a nice, safe 17 year-old guy around here, huh?"

"I don't want a nice, safe 17 year-old," I slammed my locker with more force than strictly necessary. "I want Jack."

"Well, then," Tara gave me look up and down my entire body. "Stop whining and do something about it. Maybe we could start with a makeover so you don’t look quite so much like an eighth grader. I mean, my God, Ally, are those the same jeans you wore in middle school? I know you haven't grown since then."

"Remind me again why you're my best friend."

"Because I'm not afraid to tell you the painful truth?" She hugged me to her side briefly. "Come on, it'll be fun! You need him to look at you as a woman, not a little girl."

"Ok," I huffed. "But you need to show some restraint. I don't want to look like I'm playing dress up. And absolutely no heels! I have to be able to walk. And I can't pull off a ton a of makeup, either."

"Yay!" she squeaked. Tara loved nothing more than playing dress up with me, but it had been quite a while since I had been a willing victim.

"You really think he'll look at me differently?"

"No, I think he's already looking at you in the naughtiest way possible, but I'm going to make you irresistible to him. His inconveniently noble character will be no match for my deviousness," she said proudly and marched off to her first period class.

The other major issue in my life, the whole psychic vision thing, also seemed to be giving it a rest. There was
, however, one positive outcome of Monday's afternoon adventure and that was that Veronica was now speaking to me. It's not like we were suddenly BFFs or anything, but she did say "hey" to me on Tuesday as she sat down in English. And on Wednesday, she said, "What's up?" as she passed me in the hallway, only it sounded more like "wuz up". On Thursday she asked me if she could see my homework. See? We were really working at a quality relationship. At least she wasn't glaring at me anymore. She still seemed nervous and edgy, though. I hadn't had a vision in more than a week and I was starting to wonder if I'd lost my touch.

Things changed during 4th period physics on Friday, but not exactly in the way I had been hoping. Jack and I were working on a new lab, trying to figure out the velocity of a series of matchbox cars we were sending down a track, laughing when the car ran off the side. The classroom door opened and a student aid walked in with a pink slip which he gave to Mr. Chiszowski who called out, "Jack, you're wanted in the office. Take your stuff." Jack's shoulders slumped and I could see his jaw flexing.

He packed up his notebook and pencil saying, "Sorry. See you at lunch, ok?" As he left the classroom, I could see that there was a man waiting for him in the hallway. I had a hard time concentrating during the rest of the period. Who was that guy? Why did Jack look so grim?

Toward the end of the period, I was startled out of my thoughts by Veronica's horse-like laughter at the lab table next to ours. I looked over to see what was so funny and was immediately swept into the most vivid vision I had ever had. One second I was seeing Veronica's bright red mouth gaping open, laughing, and the next I was seeing Veronica crying, mascara running down her cheeks.

"Please stop, Nick. I don't want to. You're too angry and you're scaring me. No!" She was backed against a table of some sort and the huge man I still couldn't see clearly was roughly squeezing her breasts.

"Now you don't want it, huh, slut?" He pulled back and slapped her. "Shut the hell up and take what's coming to you. You trap me by getting pregnant and now you won't put out?" He roughly turned her around, shoved her face down on the table, and reached under her short skirt to pull down her underwear.

Oh, God, I couldn't believe what I was seeing! This man was actually raping Veronica! He undid his belt, stepped close to her, and began. She cried out in pain and sobbed all the way through the violent act. He called her names that I never imagined a man calling a woman. When he was finished, he stepped away from her, fastened his pants back, and then grabbed her roughly into his arms, soothing her, smoothing her hair and kissing her face.

"Baby, I'm sorry. You know I love you. You just make me so mad sometimes. Why do you make me punish you?" Veronica just continued to sob.

I felt sickened to my very soul by what I had just seen. He claimed to love her? That violent act had nothing to with love!

As the vision faded
, all I could hear was the buzzing in my ears and the classroom floor rushed up to meet me as I passed out. I came to very quickly, but Mr. Chiszowski was completely freaked out and insisted that I go immediately to the nurse. Surprisingly, Veronica volunteered to escort me, which was actually a good thing since I was clammy and shaky, and had a difficult time walking unassisted. 

In just a few minutes I was resting on the cot in the nurse's office with a cold compress, trying to calm down after the horrifying vision I had seen. The nurse was trying to
talk to me but Veronica kept interrupting with such thinly veiled questions about prenatal care that I'm sure the nurse was not fooled for a minute. I knew Veronica was dumb, but really? And I'm the one who passed out; could we focus on me for just one tiny minute? And yes, I did feel bad for thinking those things about her right after seeing a vision of her getting raped.

At that moment, Jack burst through the door. "Ally, what the hell happened? They said you passed out!" He knelt down beside the cot and took my hand, brushing my hair out of my face with his other hand. Just looking into his concerned eyes had a more calming effect than the compress. "You ok?" he asked quietly. I looked past him and could see that the same strange man who had been outside of the physics classroom was standing in the doorway.

Before I could say a word, the nurse came to my bedside and said quietly, "She's fine. Are you the father?" she whispered. Ok, so maybe the nurse wasn't as sharp as I'd given her credit for. She apparently thought Veronica had been asking about prenatal care on my behalf.

"The what?" Jack practically shouted. I noticed that the man suddenly looked very interested.

     "She's not pregnant!" Jack, Veronica, and I all said at nearly the same time, only I said
I'm
and Jack said, "she's not
pregnant!"
while Veronica said, "
she's
not pregnant!"

  
The nurse looked dubious, but at that same moment Grams walked in the door looking every inch the consummate professional in her business suit and heels, saying sternly, yet calmly, "She's not pregnant. Now, may I have a moment of privacy with my granddaughter?" I admired the way she took control of the situation, shooing the nurse, Veronica, and the man out of the room. "Jack, I'd like you to stay, please."

"Grams!" I cried. She came towards the bed and I
stood up and threw my arms around her. She soothed my hair back from my face and told me to start at the beginning. I told both of them about the horror of the vision, how I'd seen the whole vile act, but never the face of Veronica's attacker.

"Son of a bitch!" murmured Jack as he paced the room, his hands running through his hair in agitation. "You shouldn't have to see that kind of stuff! What kind of a 'gift' makes you watch sick stuff like that?"

"Jack," Grams put her hand on his shoulder in a soothing gesture. "I know this seems very disturbing, but imagine how it must be for that poor girl," she motioned toward the door, which Veronica was just beyond. "Ally is much stronger than you give her credit for. She's going to have to be, since it appears that she has been given an extremely powerful gift. I've never heard of anything like it."

"Grams, I'm scared. I don't know what to do."

"I know, sweetie," she came over to sit beside me on the cot. "We'll figure this out. I have a few ideas. Now," she stood up and smoothed out her skirt. "If you, Jack, would be so kind as to help Ally get her things together, I would like to take her home for the day. Meanwhile, I will just step outside and have a little chat with your probation officer and assure him that not only are you
not
about to become a father by a 16 year-old girl, but that you have actually become a rather upstanding young man." She winked at him and left us alone.

I swung my legs over the edge of the cot and stood up, rather wobbly at first. I hate passing out. The last time it happened was when I was 13 and had cut my finger all the way to the bone while I was trying to peel an orange, and when I saw some gross white stuff that looked like a little worm coming out of the cut, I crumpled to the floor. Lucky I didn't land on the knife and gut myself. This time, Jack was right there, holding me up (no, I wasn't faking just
to get him to touch me! As if.)

"Hey, take it slow. Did they give you any juice or anything?"
His arm around my back, supporting me, was insanely warm and hard.

"No, the nurse hadn't got around to it yet. Veronica was talking her ear off, so she didn't get a chance."

He said another bad word under his breath, sat me back down, and began rooting around in the mini-fridge on the counter. He found a small bottle of orange juice, shook it, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to me with an imperious look. "Drink."

"Yes, sir," I muttered and took a sip. "So, that was your probation officer?"

He sat down next to me on the cot with a sigh. "Yeah. He shows up for these fun-filled, unannounced visits occasionally."

"What for? I mean, just to check up on you?" I continued sipping the orange juice, which was helping. I was beginning to feel more normal.

"Yeah, he wants to see if I'm actually at school for one thing. Then he escorts me to the bathroom and watches me pee in a cup so he can do a drug test. Then he searches my backpack for any contraband or weapons or whatever and looks through any recent discipline reports. Really makes my day."

I reached over and took his hand. I love holding his hand. I love touching him in any way. "Hey," I just gave him a little smile.

He squeezed my hand and asked, "How did your grandmother know who he was? Is it that obvious? And how did she get here so quickly? When did you call her?"

"I didn't call her. And no, it's not obvious who he is, at least not to me. That's just Gram's gift. Remember the tea party?"