Entranced Read online

  I closed my eyes. Should I ask Laima to change his fate? Was this something that should just happen? Why didn’t I know?

  I left the column blank and shut the folder, jittery and unsure. Exchanging my jeans and flip-flops for a nice summer dress, I tied a scarf around my neck to cover up the scar. The scar from the serial killer who slit my throat last year.

  Brushing the thought from my mind and reminding myself that I was alive, I applied a thin coat of lip gloss and mascara.

  My phone beeped, and I knocked my gloss off the bathroom counter as I leapt for it.

  Yay Jaynie!! Such a big girl! Dana texted.

  I smiled, feeling the painful twinge of nostalgia and affection colliding in my chest. How I missed her bubbly, extroverted personality. I’d definitely climbed back into my shell in the three months since she’d left.

  Mom was in the kitchen when I came back down. I smelled the sautéing onions.

  “Jayne!” She reached over and gave me a hug, which I tolerated for a full two seconds before pulling away. “How was school?”

  “It was good.” I eyed the onions, and my stomach growled. “I have two classes with Meredith. Psychology and journalism.”

  “What about Spanish?” She tucked back a stray brown curl that tried to escape her bun. Mom’s a real estate agent, and she always looks ready to sell the next mansion, her curly brown hair in a classic bun at the nape of her neck.

  I sucked in a breath. “I’m getting my schedule changed.” If I never spoke another word of Spanish again, it would be too soon.

  “Are you sure?”

  I picked up a clove of garlic and kept my eyes trained on the papery white husk. Last year I’d spent a lot of time at the Spanish club, developing a strong relationship with Mr. Livingston while my knowledge of the language improved. But after his betrayal, the very language felt like a lie.

  Mom handed me a knife. “You can peel that and chop it up.”

  “Thanks.” I obliged her, shucking the garlic. “What’s going on with Beth and cheerleading?”

  Mom’s back stiffened. “Is she still complaining about it?”

  “No. I just want to know.”

  She glanced toward the six-person oak dining table, but Beth wasn’t near it. “I don’t like some of her friends on the squad. And her grades were questionable last year. Plus she started taking an attitude with me. I don’t think you really noticed, you were so busy with your own things, but sometimes it got pretty ugly in here.”

  I had noticed. I had also avoided Beth like the plague. I paused mid-slice on the garlic, wondering if giving up cheerleading would be enough to alter Beth’s life. Or maybe it was the catalyst that would lead her to suicide? Frustrated, I chopped harder. How was I supposed to know these things?

  “That’s good enough,” Mom said, taking the cutting board and knife from me. “Next time I need something minced, I’ll ask you.” The garlic hissed and sizzled as she added it to the frying pan.

  “Sorry.” I exhaled and pushed my hair out of my face. “I’m going to Aaron’s for dinner.”

  She glanced at me again, taking in my makeup and outfit. “That’s why you’re dressed up.”

  I hoped she hadn’t wanted me to stay. Dad worked out of town, so during the week my mom got to single-parent it. Usually she only held us to a mandatory dinner when he was home. “I haven’t seen Aaron in over a week, ever since his semester started.”

  “That’s fine. Call me when you’re coming home.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I hurried out of the kitchen before she could change her mind. Chopping garlic only got me so far.

  I arrived at Aaron’s around five-fifteen. I pulled up to the curb of the rock-exterior, Cape Cod-style house. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I heard the sound of the waves hitting the shore. A sigh escaped my lips. Living along the beach would be a dream come true.

  I climbed the tiered steps up to the front door. My stomach twisted in knots, and my face hurt from smiling too hard. I rang the doorbell and held my breath, hoping Aaron would answer and not his mom.

  The door swished open, and Aaron stepped out onto the marbled concrete. He grabbed me into a hug. “Hi, Jayne,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my temple.

  I melted into his arms, my worries dissipating. “Hi,” I breathed.

  He pulled back and smiled at me, the corners of his dark blue eyes crinkling. His hair was combed to the side, small waves fighting to escape the gel that melded them together. “All right?” His fingers brushed the side of my head, tangling themselves in my curly brown hair.

  “Yeah. School was good. Maybe this year won’t be so bad.”

  “See any friends?”

  “Meredith. I don’t know if you knew her. We had Spanish and journalism together last year. This year we have psychology and journalism.”

  “That’s nice.” He hooked his hands into his jeans pockets. “Shall we go inside?”

  I really didn’t want to. Standing on the porch in the shadow of his enormous house was good enough for me. But I knew what the expected answer was. “Sure.”

  Aaron’s family took “posh” to a whole new level. His house had the Pride and Prejudice English cottage look down to a T. And by cottage, I meant nothing short of a small mansion. I clung to Aaron’s arm as he guided me through the marble entryway and into the living room. My strappy sandals slapped loudly on the floor, and I flinched with each step. No other sound echoed through the hall. “Does anyone really live here?” I whispered.

  “I do.”

  “Right. You and Charlie.” Charlie was the golden retriever Aaron got last year as a graduation gift. But now that Charlie was bigger with a tendency to destroy everything he touched, the poor dog was relegated to a segregated playroom in the back of the house.

  We reached the dining room, recognizable not by the expected smells of cooking food, but by the sounds of Aaron’s mother bossing her cook around in a sharp British accent.

  I shot Aaron a dirty look. “She doesn’t need my help with dinner,” I hissed. “She’s not doing the cooking.”

  Aaron shrugged, having the good grace to at least appear sheepish. “She wants to get to know you, Jayne. This could be a good time for you two.”

  How did he not notice his parents’ dislike for me? Before I could point out the fallacies in his logic, his mother’s stilettos clicked across the kitchen floor and into the room.

  “Jayne, darling!” she exclaimed. Her bony, cold hands grasped mine, and she pulled me close for an air kiss. Her sweet-smelling, expensive perfume filled the air around me, as oppressive as a plume of smoke. “I am so pleased you could make it.”

  Sometimes I forgot how differently Aaron and I were raised. It had only taken him a few weeks to adopt American mannerisms. Two minutes with his mother reminded me. Though her words were sweet, her whole attitude reeked of condescension and superiority.

  “Yeah, pleased to be here,” I said, trying to speak while holding my breath. She pulled back and studied me, her light blue eyes penetrating. I fought the urge to cover myself with my hands.

  “Come, let us sit and discuss at the table. Cook will bring the food when it’s ready.”

  I lingered, trying to pull free of her grip. “I could stay and help her in the kitchen, really. I don’t mind.”

  She swiveled and leveled her gaze at me. “Oh, no, it is far beneath your station, dear.”

  I glanced back at Aaron and mouthed, “Station?” He shrugged and trailed behind while his mom hauled me forward.

  Three large picture windows lit the dining room and reflected off the crystal chandelier. She sat me down at the long table and pulled out a chair to sit next to me. Turning sideways, she pasted a smile on her face and leaned closer. “What are you studying in school, Jayne?”

  “Well, Mrs. Chambers—”

  “Oh, just call me Elizabeth. I’m not that old, after all.”

  I nodded, not about to point out that she was old enough to be my mom. “Well, Elizabeth. I�
��m taking the core required classes, of course, but I’m also focusing on what I want to do.”

  “Which is?”

  “Well, reporting.” I picked up the cloth origami napkin on the table and unfolded it, then began trying to fold it back. “I just finished an internship over the summer—”

  “Oh, yes, Aaron told me about it. That was with the small local paper? Or was it the online paper?”

  The words I’d planned to say fled, and I wilted. She made all my hard work sound so trivial. “Well, it was the local paper. It was a great experience. I got to work with the journalists and—”

  “That’s nice,” she interrupted. “At least they let you see what it would be like to be an actual journalist. Is that correct?”

  Because an intern obviously wasn’t. “Yeah.” I pulled the napkin into my lap and concentrated on pleating it. “They’ve been kind enough to keep me on through the school year. Out of the generosity of their hearts.” The last bit slipped out, and I bit my tongue. I hadn’t meant to get snarky with her, but meekness was not my best quality.

  “Of course.” Her smile tightened. “How sweet of them. And what does your father do?”

  I shot a glance at Aaron across the table, pleading with my eyes for him to intervene. “Well, he’s a computer consultant. He—”

  “Do you always start your sentences with ‘well,’ dear?” Her smile hadn’t left her face, but I swore I saw something mocking in her eyes. “You shouldn’t speak with fillers. It makes it seem you don’t know what you want to say.”

  Criminy. I gaped at her. “Well, I’m sure it’s a habit I need to break.” I winced. I’d said it again.

  “Then break it. Just stop doing it.”

  I fell silent, not even looking at Aaron for fear he’d see murder on my face. He could have saved me from this, but instead he’d sat silent like a meek English son. I knew this wasn’t about me, or my dad’s job, or my speech patterns. She was lashing out because Aaron didn’t want to go along with their plans for his future, and they blamed me for it. Maybe it was my fault. But I could no more make Aaron go to England for school than they could. And I certainly didn’t want to.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A rumbling sounded from somewhere in the house and I paused, trying to decide if the washing machine was out of control or if there was an earthquake.

  Mrs. Chambers stood up. “Oh, good. Ben’s home. Aaron, tell Cook it’s time for dinner.”

  “I’ll go with you, Aaron,” I said, backing my chair away from the table and standing up in one smooth move.

  Aaron waited for me, then wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me to his side. “Don’t worry about her,” he murmured as we strode toward the kitchen. “Just stand your ground.”

  “She makes me feel like everything I say is wrong,” I complained as we stepped into the kitchen.

  “Everything you say is wrong,” he agreed. “That’s how she fights. You learn quickly to just grit your teeth and wait for it to be over.”

  It took only moments to relay the message to the cook, and all too soon we were back at the table, this time with Aaron’s dad, sitting in an uncomfortable silence while Cook served us. I resolved to be quiet unless directly addressed.

  This turned out to be very easy as Aaron’s mother ignored me the rest of the meal. She peppered Mr. Chambers with questions about his day and work. I felt some vindication when he seemed to choose the shortest responses possible.

  The entire meal was a formal affair. I thought it ridiculous to switch utensils between my salad and my entree. I wanted to ask Aaron why his family ate like this. We weren’t at a fancy restaurant, and no one was watching. They could save dish-washing time and eat with one fork like everyone else in America. No one would even know.

  But I kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t risk his mother’s attention.

  Dinner finished, and the cook brought out small cups of tea. Aaron stood up, one hand dropping to my shoulder. “Mum—”

  “Mother,” she corrected.

  He continued, not missing a beat. “Mother, Father. It’s time for Charlie’s walk. Please excuse Jayne and me for the evening.”

  Mrs. Chambers cocked her head, her blue eyes beady. “But Jayne and I weren’t through talking. You take the dog, dear. She and I shall resume our conversation.”

  I’m sure he felt my shoulders stiffen, because he gave me a squeeze. “Jayne’s tired, Mother. She’s been gracious this evening, but she has school tomorrow. She’ll come with me.”

  His mom leaned forward, her eyes staring at him with such intensity that I wondered if she was attempting mind control.

  “Let them go, Elizabeth,” Mr. Chambers said, cutting through the tension. He sipped his tea and offered me a wink behind his mustached face. “Lovely to see you, Jayne.”

  And just like that, I was free. I leapt from my chair, retrieving the dinner napkin that fell to the floor in my haste. “Bye,” I said.

  “That,” I said as Aaron let Charlie out of the house, “was officially the most uncomfortable meal I’ve ever eaten.”

  “Really?” Aaron vigorously scratched behind the dog’s ears and gave me a smile. “That was about typical around here.”

  “And you dragged me here, knowing it would be that way?” I socked him in the arm. “Aaron Chambers, don’t you ever do that again!”

  His expression turned sheepish. “I’m sorry, Jayne. My mum said she wanted to get to know you better. I really thought she’d be more hospitable.”

  “She’s like a vampire, sucking the joy out of everything she looks at.” I pressed my hand to my mouth, horrified I’d said that out loud. “Oh, I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “She’s a little strong,” Aaron agreed. “But she can be nice.”

  If she gets her way. I succeeded in keeping that sentiment to myself. What did she want with me, anyway? I wasn’t good enough for her son. I kept him from returning to England. Who was I kidding? What she really wanted was for me to disappear from his life.

  We walked behind the beach houses along the sandy shore. Aaron unleashed Charlie and let him run around. We made our way to the pier and sat down. Warm sunshine bathed my face, tempered by the slight breeze that blew across the water. I closed my eyes and inhaled, finding security in the mild scent of ocean that filtered in on the wind. Some people detested the slightly fishy, salty smell that pervaded most of Forked River, but I loved it. It meant home to me. And it meant no lemons.

  Aaron tossed a stick back and forth with Charlie. “Did you smell anyone today?”

  His question brought me back to the present with a mental bump, and I shifted my weight slightly on the wooden planks. “One person.” My stomach clenched at the memory, and I turned away from his gaze.

  “Are you all right?”

  I shrugged. Aaron and my best friend Dana were the only people who knew about my ability. While it was nice to have someone to confide in, sometimes I wished he would just forget about it for a bit.

  A middle-aged man with graying hair walked down the shore from the other direction, his hands shoved into the pockets of a blue windbreaker. He paused next to Charlie, patting the dog on the head before turning to face the whispering waters.

  “What are you going to do about it? The vision you had, I mean?” Aaron asked.

  I kept my eyes on the man, finding it easier to focus on a stranger than meet Aaron’s eyes. “I don’t know yet. If I had my way, no one would die.”

  “But everyone has to die someday, right?”

  “Right.” I exhaled. That was the crux of the problem. Sometimes I had to let people die.

  The man at the shore turned around and stared our direction. “Is this your dog?” he called.

  Aaron waved. “Yep.”

  The man whistled and walked toward us, bringing Charlie with him. His eyes flicked between Aaron and me.

  The wave of lemony smell didn’t hit me until it was too late to prepare myself. I stumbled backward, but our eyes never broke co
ntact. I felt Aaron grab me around the waist, securing me before I could fall, but I didn’t see it. My Sight was elsewhere.

  Matthew stands on the top rung of the ladder, grunting with the effort to secure the blasted Christmas lights. Why he has to hang up lights just because everyone else in the community does is beyond him. The freezing air burns his bare hands, and he jerks one away from the cords, blowing on the skin to try to warm it up.

  “Blasted New Jersey weather,” he curses.

  “Matthew?”

  Matthew can’t see his wife April, but he turns his head toward her anyway. “I’m here.”

  “I know you are,” she replies. “You’ve been stringing those lights for an hour. Shouldn’t you come down for dinner? It’s getting dark.”

  No appreciation. Here he is, trying to make the house festive and holy for the holidays, and all she notices is that he’s late for dinner. “Calm down, woman. I’m almost done.”

  “You be careful. You’re getting too old for this.”

  Too old? Matthew harrumphs and grumbles under his breath.

  The ladder wobbles beneath him, and Matthew totters forward to counterbalance the backward motion. He suddenly finds himself leaning sideways as the ladder slides along the gutters.

  “Matthew?” April screeches.

  He can’t even find the words to respond. His hands reach out, searching for anything to stop the downward fall. His nails scratch at the siding before there is nothing left to grab, and then his body smacks into the concrete below the eaves, pinned by the ladder. Matthew tries to take a breath, to do something, but no air enters his lungs. A high-pitched scream penetrates his head, and darkness smothers him until there is nothing left.

  I came back to myself with a whimper, wrapping my arms around my torso and trying to get the lingering remnants of the scream out of my head. My neck ached, my body sore as if I’d just bashed it against rocks.