Twenty-Five Years Ago Today (30 page)

“Deniz is my agent,” Josh said. “She’s gotten
me speaking engagements on domestic violence and we’re working on a
radio campaign with a national coalition. It’s really bringing
recognition to the human service agency where I work.”

“Josh is determined to preserve his socially
conscious image,” Deniz Jewell said wryly. “But most of the others
have pursued commercial opportunities. I've lined up gigs on soap
operas and as celebrity judges for a pro skating tournament.
Imagine what my agency can do for you.”

People were interested in the contestants
who’d lost? Cassidy thought back to the crowd reaction for her
prize. She did seem to have some fans out there. It might be fun to
do a couple public appearances until the SOS fervor died down, and
being in the spotlight longer would mean a little extra money,
which she could definitely use.

“Thanks for your interest,” she said. “I’d
like to talk to you.”

Deniz Jewell raised a finger, glittering with
a ruby ring. “I’m delighted to hear that. You’re a personal
trainer, correct? I'll bet we could get you a Nike ad, or an
exercise video. Maybe even a fitness book deal.”

Shannon gave a heavy sigh and toyed with her
strand of pearls.

Cassidy gulped. Nike? Was this lady for real?
An endorsement like that could bring Cassidy more money than if
she’d won first place. She forced her slack jaw muscles back
together.

“Are you serious? You really think I could
get all those deals?”

“It’s possible.” Deniz Jewell fished a card
out of her purple leather purse. “No agency can help you like
Jewell of America. I’ll call you Monday. Excuse me.” She hurried
toward Reggie, who had his arm around a giggling waitress.

“Honey, I'm tired,” Shannon complained with a
yawn. “Let's eat and go back to the hotel.” She slanted a look at
Cassidy and added, “We've got a long flight to L.A. after the press
conference tomorrow.”

“Want to join us, Cass?” Josh asked,
tight-lipped.

Cassidy elevated an eyebrow as if to say,
“You’re kidding, right?”

"Thanks, but my family's here,” she said.
“See you guys later."

As Shannon steered her fiancé away, Cassidy
reflected on the meeting with the agent. According to Deniz Jewell,
her dreams might be in reach after all. Don’t get your hopes up,
Cassidy told herself. She couldn’t handle a big letdown twice.

DARK BEFORE DAWN

By Stacy Juba

When E.S.P. Spells D-A-N-G-E-R

Dawn Christian curled under the covers,
shivering in her nightshirt. Goosebumps popped up on her bare arms.
She breathed in and out, trying to calm herself. Even the safety of
darkness couldn't hide it.

Something was wrong.

She knew it the same way she had known it
would rain despite the weather report. Now gray clouds blistered
outside the window.

I can't go, I can't go, I can't go, something
bad's going to happen. Dawn rubbed between her eyebrows, the
message flying around inside her brain like a loose pinball.

The red numbers of her alarm clock flickered
to 6:29. Dawn rolled onto her other side and faced the wall. In an
hour, she'd be starting her junior year at a lame new high school.
She missed Boston and taking the T, the city’s subway system,
wherever she wanted to go. Dawn used to hang out at museums, watch
the college kids in Harvard Square and read books at the Common.
Sometimes, she and her mother caught Saturday matinees in the
theater district.

Not anymore. Ever since the wedding in July,
Dawn had been stuck in Covington, Maine, a beach town overflowing
with rinky dink carnival rides, cheesy souvenir stores and bad
vibrations.

"Dawn?" She turned to find her mother framed
in the dimly lit doorway, fully dressed. "Are you coming down for
breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Nervous about school?"

Gulping, Dawn huddled under the blankets. No
way could she discuss her feeling with her mom. Her mother wanted a
normal daughter who was on the basketball team or school newspaper,
had friends and didn’t live in fear. "Kind of."

Her mother lowered herself onto the bed and
squeezed Dawn’s hand. Her manicured pink nails shone against Dawn’s
pale skin. Since meeting Jeff eight months ago, Dawn's mother had
been letting her curly hair hang loose and wearing makeup.

She smoothed back a tangle of Dawn’s chestnut
waves. "You don’t look like yourself. Do you feel all right?"

"I’m fine." Dawn shoved her stuffed monkey,
Buddy, further under the blankets. Her father gave her Buddy
shortly before he died, and holding it was like hugging a piece of
her dad. Still, sleeping with a toy monkey was kiddish and Dawn
didn’t do it often. Her mother would get suspicious if she
noticed.

Darn it. Her mother drew out Buddy by his
slender tail and patted his furry brown head. "Calling in the
reinforcements, huh? What’s on your mind, honey? Maybe I can
help."

Dawn sat up and clasped her knees. Her mother
never understood about Dawn’s hunches. "I don’t think you really
want to know, Mom."

"Of course I do."

Yeah, right. But Dawn didn’t have the stamina
for lying today. "I’m getting one of my premonitions. Something’s
wrong. I think it has to do with school."

She waited and sure enough, her mother got
the frightened look she’d worn too many times before. Dawn
remembered the look that terrible night with Mrs. Frazier ... but
she didn’t want to think about that.

Her mother dropped Buddy onto the mattress
and squirmed as if fighting off a chill. "I’m sure it’s just
regular old nerves," she said in an overly cheerful voice. "It’s
hard enough adjusting to a new home and a new family without
throwing a new school into the picture. Who wouldn’t feel
edgy?"

"That’s not it, Mom."

"Just be normal. Don’t worry about your
premonitions. You shouldn’t have to live your life afraid."

"Get real, Mom. I’ll never be normal and fit
in."

"If you paid more attention to talking with
the other kids, and less to these visions and feelings, things
would be so much easier for you."

How many times had she heard her mother say
that? Dawn rolled her eyes. "This is why I didn’t want to talk
about it. I can’t help that I ‘know’ things, Mom. The only way I
can keep that stuff secret is by never opening my mouth. Then the
other kids think I’m a snob."

"Being different is no reason to separate
yourself. You’ve been through a lot already, honey, and I want you
to be happy here. We have a fresh start. If you pushed your
feelings to the back of your mind and stopped working yourself up
over them, maybe they’ll stop coming." Her mother offered a brittle
smile.

That was like asking Dawn to walk around
blindfolded, or to stuff earplugs in her ears, giving up one of her
senses. She couldn’t just shut off her feelings. They were too
overpowering, demanding attention.

"You made me promise to hide my abilities
around Ken and Jeff," Dawn said. "Okay, I want them to like me, but
I shouldn’t have to hide things around you. Why can’t you just help
me?"

Her mother slipped an arm around her
shoulders. "I’m trying to help you, honey. You need to tell
yourself that your imagination is running wild and you’ve got
normal jitters. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

Dawn’s jaw tensed. Her mother deserved an
Oscar. She had an amazing knack for pretending Dawn suffered normal
teenage angst, acting as if they were on some TV drama when the
truth was closer to the Stephen King movie
Carrie
.

"Whenever I’m in a new situation, I say hi to
the person sitting next to me and do my best to start a
conversation," her mother went on. "Maybe that would work for
you."

Dawn took a few breaths to contain herself,
then muttered, "I'll try."

Her mother's face lit up with relief. Dawn
accepted her hug, inhaling the scents of Dove soap and raspberry
body spray, but rather than make her feel better, the embrace
ticked off Dawn even more. Did her mom really believe everything
was solved? Dawn clamped her lips shut to keep back the harsh words
brimming on her tongue.

"You're smart, you're pretty, you're sweet,"
her mother said. "The kids at Covington High will love you. Ken’s
willing to give you a ride. Isn’t that great? I’d drive you myself,
but I think it would be better if you’re not seen with your uncool
old mother."

"Yeah. Great."

Her mother retreated downstairs to make
breakfast. Dawn pushed back the covers. She knew her mom meant
well. Since her dad’s death when Dawn was in first grade, life had
sucked for both of them. They’d had lonely dinners, lonely
holidays, lonely vacations. Having each other made it bearable. Now
they had a chance to start over.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as her
mother believed.

Dawn left Buddy on the disheveled bed and
rested her bare feet on her pink throw rug. She flipped the wall
switch and winced as harsh light glared down on her bone white
bedroom set. Everything looked orderly, the way she liked it. Young
adult romance novels and the latest issues of
Seventeen
filled a pair of baskets, while trays on her dresser organized
accessories.

She had enough clutter in her own head. Dawn
couldn’t stand seeing it reflected in her surroundings.

A sudden wave of music blared down the hall,
"I’m a rock-and-roller, that’s what I ammmmm ..." Dawn cringed,
pressing her temples against the beginnings of a headache.

She wanted to storm in and tell Ken to shut
off his music, but he wasn’t her real brother. Then he’d hate her,
for sure.

Dawn snagged her new jeans and shirt out of
the closet and covered her ears as she crossed the hallway into the
bathroom. She hung her clothes on a hook, shaking her head at the
beach junk adorning the walls. Dawn had gotten used to the twig
wreath overflowing with glued dolphins and starfish, but the foam
life ring above the toilet reminded her of the Titanic.

A shower was what she needed. A steady stream
of water sprayed into the tub as she undressed, the whooshing sound
drowning out Ken’s music, but not her internal voice.

Be very careful. Something is wrong.

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