Vision (6 page)

Then he didn’t speak, but I was certain I
heard his thoughts say,
don’t you remember, love? You used to
know all this, too, long ago.
Was he sending, or was I
imagining things?

We walked until I was unable to contain
myself any longer. I needed answers. But as I opened my mouth to
speak, he beat me to the punch. “I knew you were in trouble. Don’t
ask me how.”

Shoving my hands in my coat pockets from the
cold, I would have preferred to hold his instead. I addressed him
quietly, just above a whisper. “You can’t tell me not to ask you
how you knew. That’s totally unreasonable. You made me wait the
entire week.”

He threw his head back as he grinned, making
me giggle, and then pulled my hand from my coat pocket, wrapping it
in is. “Oh, Layla. Let’s just say, my feelings for you have a radar
attached.”

“What feelings are those?” I prodded, hoping
he wouldn’t dodge that question too.

His sideways grin raised my internal
thermostat, making me question the need for the layers of warm
clothes I had piled on.

He glanced over, and simply said, “I care for
you.”

His deflector shield was quite honed, and
somehow he continued to distract me from everything except serious
talk. When I would start to question, he played the expert tour
guide, pointing to this tree and that flower, calling each by its
Latin name without referencing the placards.

Who is this guy?

It was then I recalled something Sienna had
told me about Stuart when we first met. She referred to him as
‘brilliant in every way’ and the master of so many different
languages it was ‘utterly disgusting.’ At the time, it was trivia
about someone I barely knew – now the information had transformed
into complex puzzle pieces comprising the mystery called Stuart
Fairchild. He was timeless, transformative – and completely out of
my league.

“Let’s go to the Woodland Garden. There’s a
stream and lake and it’s quite nice.”

Okay, seriously? Who says, ‘quite’ except,
like, noblemen?

“Fairchild?” We stopped simultaneously,
turning to face each other. We were under a large tree with no one
around. The unexpected light dance of his fingers across my cheek
as he brushed away a few hair strands made shivers rush everywhere.
Standing my ground was becoming difficult. “How do you know…things
about me? Did you wait and then follow me after school?” Even that
didn’t make sense when it tumbled out, because we were parked at
least fifteen minutes before Stuart showed up. “That was stupid,
never mind.”

Our eyes were pinned together, making me burn
with desire. Looking into his black eyes was like seeing through to
the deepest, richest part of the earths’ center, where time began
and ended and stood still according to his will. “We’re very
connected. That’s all that’s important – for now.”

There was a low hum from the butterflies
battling in my stomach. “But how…are you like a super hero? Hulk?
Spidey? Super…?”

His impossibly beautiful smile washed over
me, stopping me in my tracks even before he placed a finger over my
mouth and murmured, “Hush.”

I never got an answer and soon forgot the
question. He was working his way across my collarbone with his
mouth, caressing both sides of my neck, as if playing an
instrument. Passing out was inevitable. His fingers examined my
hair, slowly sliding and twisting the curls. He wandered toward my
jaw line, a touch so sensuous it was all I could do to stop from
moaning. Absently, I placed my hands against his abdomen, feeling
his hard muscles contract.

Cupping my face, he reached up and kissed my
forehead, both eyelids, working his way toward my mouth while
sending electric shockwaves below my stomach. Every muscle and
nerve ached with desire as he gently tugged on my bottom lip,
teasing relentlessly before full contact, making my breath hitch
and stagger. When our lips touched I knew I was finished, waking
something ravenous in me I had never felt with anyone.

We walked and talked some more, but not about
what happened with Andre. We shared the stories people do when they
get to know each other, something we had done little of until
now.

And we laughed. There was no doubt I was
falling fast and hard, my need for him scaring me more than
anything. Needing anyone was not in my playbook.

He was close to his entire family, and lived
in a cottage behind his parent’s main house. He was well travelled,
especially for someone my age, to which he credited his culturally
centric parents. I made sure to ask and listen more than I talked,
saving my own complicated family dynamics for another time. Mostly,
I found him utterly fascinating, his voice soothing and hypnotic,
his stories electric with life.

I decided to ask him about Colonsay,
remembering Sienna telling me he had visited there, hoping to glean
any information to help me understand something about the tiny
island.

He tilted his head slightly, as if
contemplating a response. His answer was slightly formal, which for
Stuart sounded like a history professor. “It was a stop on one of
our vacations. It’s a small island off Scotland accessible by
ferry. Not much to do there that you couldn’t accomplish in a day
or two. It has a…rich history. There was conflict between two clans
in particular – the MacDonalds and the MacPhies. It was all very
scandalous. Why?”

It seemed Stuart knew more than I would have
imagined, and I responded with a degree of nonchalance. “Oh, just,
before I left to come here I got this letter…Fairchild, how do you
know so much about stuff?”

He shrugged again, adding a sly smile. “I
know things. But why are you curious about Colonsay?”

“Someone wrote me saying she, her name is
Abbey, found something of mine on her property. She said it’s too
complicated to explain and wants me to visit.” I further explained
my hesitancy to call her, because she could just be crazy.

“Hhmm. You should call her,” he said,
twirling me back to face him.

And that was the end of that discussion,
because when his hands rested on the sides of my hips, and his
fingers tightened pulling me against him, I moaned into his mouth,
and he kissed me harder – like it was our last day on earth.

No one kisses that way.

Everyone is supposed to kiss that way.

And he was kissing me, as if I had always
belonged to him.

CHAPTER NINE

Stuart’s brave feat with Andre didn’t
surprise Sienna. She brushed it with a hand wave, saying “That’s
just Stuart” – as if we were talking about the neighborhood
superhero that lived on every block, a theory still under
consideration from my perspective.

News of our day date, and – kissing sent her
squealing and jumping continuously on her bed, until I pulled her
back to a seated position, the up and down motions making me queasy
– it didn’t take much these days. She was happy for us, but I was
mortified over my feelings, the gravitational pull thrilling and
frightening at the same time. I had never felt anything so strong,
so definite.

I wanted him so badly every part of me ached,
his touch still reverberating like waves over my body, remembering
the longing, the passion long after we parted.

But there was still so much to piece
together.

That night, the letter lay open on my lap,
free from the confines of the envelope it had lived in now for over
a month. Holding the phone in my hand, staring at the number at the
bottom of the single piece of paper, my fingers froze. I couldn’t
make the call, but I didn’t know what was stopping me.

I stashed the single sheet back in my
satchel, and placed the phone back on the nightstand. With a heavy
sigh, I nestled under the comforter, forcing my mind to shift
subjects, remembering the warmth of Stuart’s lips, the sweet taste
of his mouth.

Jealous pangs stabbed my heart wondering if
he had shared those kisses with others. Of course, those thoughts
were totally unreasonable and selfish, but I couldn’t imagine
having that level of passion with just anyone.

Kissing like that could do permanent damage.
Had he left a string of girls longing for him the way I did? He set
the bar so impossibly high I doubted I could ever kiss someone else
again, even if things didn’t work out between us.

I’m too young to peak in the romance
department.

While drifting to sleep I held Stuart close
in my thoughts like a safety net – a very sexy safety net, hoping
he could perhaps protect me from the evil behind my eyelids.

No chance. When I drifted to sleep, the same
mötley crüe appeared for an encore performance, cycling in their
inertia of terror.

He held me down. I writhed under the brute
strength of his huge arms as she shouted, “Leave her alone!” Then I
was running again, tripping over concealed rocks hidden just
beneath the mossy grass. I knew I had to jump. The waves were loud,
and the tide was high. The moon was a solitary disc beneath a
billion stars. It would be okay. Somehow, I knew it would be okay.
Hurdling off the cliff, I opened my arms wide, this time relaxing
into the fall.

This time, he would save me.

Something was lifting me up, the cliffs
fading in the distance below, the sky moving closer. The heartbeats
steady, rhythmic beneath his shirt. I was safe, and I closed my
eyes.

“Wake up! You over slept, big time,” Sienna
shouted from the hallway.

He was waiting downstairs, laughing with
Patrice. But it was me who distracted his attention when I walked
down the staircase, causing Patrice to smile and gently exit. It
felt like everyone was in on some secret except for me, or maybe
the secret was simply, us.

After school the three of us went for coffee,
and out of nowhere I found myself blurting out an idea I didn’t
know existed until the words formed. “I think I’ll visit Colonsay
over the holiday…find out what this silly letter is about so I can
get on with my life.”

Sienna nodded, wiping crumbs from the sides
of her mouth. “I’ll see if Mum will take us.”

I had finally shown the letter to Sienna. She
had been intrigued, and I didn’t elaborate on anything other than
it was all a mystery. Truthfully, it was all a mystery. I had no
idea if the letter, my dreams, and my freak abilities were related
– except on some level I did know – I just couldn’t make the pieces
fit.

I shook my head in response. “No, I need to
go alone.” Stuart and Sienna both stared. “What? I can’t travel a
short distance by myself? It’ll just be for a day.”

“Then Mum will expect you to get an okay from
your parents,” Sienna said.

That evening I called Dad’s cell phone in
order to avoid the possibility of Liz answering the house phone. I
had to tell him about the letter so he would let me go. Dad could
be talked into anything with a good argument, provided he has
details.

After reciting the contents to him, omitting
the reference to Mom, he was silent for a few moments, and I
decided to go in for the kill. “So, I can make it a day trip? I’ll
bring someone with,” I fibbed, feeling immediate guilt. Lying was
not my style, and the truth is, both Sienna and Stuart offered to
accompany me but I insisted on going alone. No one knew about my
visions and the craziness I endured, and frankly I feared loosing
Stuart too soon because of it. This was something I had to do
alone.

Dad finally heaved a heavy sigh. “Fine. Be
careful.”

The next day a note appeared pinned beneath
Stuart’s windshield wiper, folded in half with my name scribbled on
it. He handed it to me, watching my face while I read. I had never
seen the handwriting before.

I know you know. I know who you are.

“Well?” They both said in unison.

I sighed, handing it to Stuart. After
reading, they both looked at me, serious and troubled.

“What does this mean?” Stuart’s tone was all
business again.

Now I was trapped. If I told them my secret,
I risked losing my two best friends, a risk I was unwilling to
take. But if I didn’t speak up, they would still think I was a
certified loon. There was no way out. Stuart had saved me, and
deserved an explanation.

It’s not like I would blame them for not
wanting to associate with a total freak that read minds. Of course
convincing them I wasn’t prying into their heads 24/7 would be
challenging, even though Sienna was mostly an open book, and Stuart
was unreadable.

And while I didn’t know who wrote the note,
the thought crossed my mind that the only person currently
threatened by my existence was Andre. With a start, I remembered
the horrible night when Andre had thought, Pin her first. She’ll
like it. To which I responded, “NO. I. WON’T! GET OFF ME!” My
reaction was timed in response as if he had spoken aloud, and he
must have been startled if not suspicious, if not initially,
perhaps later when he recalled events. But had not returned to
school, and there had been no sightings of his car.

If my theory was true and he reacted to me
reading him, it was a new phenomenon in my über-bizarro world. No
one had ever ‘caught’ me reading, or at least, they never called me
on it.

Stuart was talking. “Layla, speak.”

“Um…can we go somewhere private? It’s time to
– tell you two – something.”

CHAPTER TEN

We sat in the coffee house together, as words
like “clairvoyant” and “psychic” hovered in the air. I hated the
limited vernacular available to explain myself – it sounded fake
and ostentatious. But Stuart just smiled, as if he was relieved I
finally confessed. This trait of his, the all knowing, all seeing,
was getting on my nerves. Playing mystery man was cute and
endearing at first, but quickly becoming an irritation, because it
kept us from growing closer. The more I knew about him, the less I
seemed to know. Sienna on the other hand was slightly more vocal.
“That is by far the coolest thing ever!” I saw a light go on behind
her eyes. “Oh. You said ‘who’s Stuart,’ the first day. You heard
me.”