Читать книгу What Are The Chances? - D. Graham R. - Страница 6

The bells on the front door of the Inn jingled and my best friend Sophie Sakamoto walked through the archway into the dining room. The breakfast guests all glanced in her direction, probably because her black boots, black leggings, dark sunglasses, and black tank-top dress under a black-leather jacket were an unexpected style in my tiny historic village. She looked like she just rolled out of a crypt somewhere.

We hadn’t seen each other in almost three weeks, which was the longest time we’d ever been apart, so I screeched and rushed over to hug her. Despite the fact it was too early in the morning for her to show enthusiasm, she let me smother her with affection. “Welcome home.”

“You too,” she said, strangled by my embrace. “But don’t tell me anything about Europe. It will only make me depressed that I didn’t go with you. Not. One. Word.”

“It’s not like you were sitting at home doing nothing. A cross-country tour with the band is a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head to disagree. “Not compared to the UK, France, and Italy. I don’t want to know how much fun you had.”

I pretended to lock my lips with a key, then topped up a cup of coffee for a guest and filled one for Sophie with cream. “When you said you would drop by to say hi on your way to the gig, I didn’t expect to see you this early.”

“Doug forgot to tell me the show’s in Victoria not Vancouver. We have to catch the ferry at noon. I’m not happy about the early wake-up call, obviously. And apparently we’re staying tomorrow night, too, just to party. Sorry you and I can’t hang out until I get back. Is that okay?”

“Of course. A gig in Victoria is exciting. Congratulations. Do you want something to eat?”

“No thanks, but the guys do. Is your grandpa around?”

“No. I let him sleep in since he had to do everything all by himself while I was in Europe.”

“Not. One. Word.” Sophie pointed at me in a mock threat. “I seriously don’t want to know how awesome Paris and London and Rome were.”

“Sorry.” I smiled and squeezed her shoulders. “The buffet is almost gone. Tell the guys to come in through the kitchen. I’ll make them something else.”

Sophie raised the cup of coffee in silent thanks before she went out to the parking lot to let the band know they could come in for breakfast.

The last two tables of guests were finished eating, so I cleared their dishes and headed through the swing doors into the kitchen. My neighbour Kailyn was seated at the pastry table, helping herself to an entire can of whipped cream. Kailyn, her dad, and her brother Trevor had lived next door since I was five and they almost always ate breakfast at the Inn. Although Kailyn was twenty-one and one year older than Trevor was, she looked five years younger and acted ten years younger because of her special needs.

“You can’t eat that much whipped cream,” I said.

“Yes I can.”

“It’ll make you sick.”

After some contemplation, she used her hand and slid half the fluffy white mound off the waffle and onto the metal pastry table. “Trevor came home last night.”

“Yeah, I heard his motorbike,” I said as I cleaned up the mess.

Trevor and I had a complicated relationship. We had been best friends as kids, but when he went to high school two years before I did, we drifted apart. Then, in my grade-eleven year, I developed a giant crush on him. It was weird. I loved him. I thought he loved me. But nothing happened between us. In the fall, I started grade twelve and he moved down to Vancouver to live on campus at the University of British Columbia. For my whole senior year he came home to Britannia Beach on weekends, but he was always busy with Search and Rescue, his friends, or spending time with Kailyn. I eventually gave up on the hope of a romantic relationship developing between us and moved on.

“Kailyn, did Trevor say he was going to come over for breakfast?”

“He left. With Murphy.” She opened a teen magazine and turned the pages, then, without elaborating, changed the subject to talk about her most recent pop-star crush, “Riley Rivers has a sister. Her name is Amy.”

Unlike some of Kailyn’s favourite heartthrobs, I actually knew a little about Riley. He was talented, but what I thought was even more impressive was the charity work he did in third-world countries when he wasn’t on tour. I was interested in finding out more about him, but before we had a chance to continue the conversation the band piled into the kitchen and spread out on stools around the pastry table. Sophie’s boyfriend Doug hugged me. “Welcome home, Deri. How was your trip?”

Sophie shot me a cautionary glare.

“It sucked,” I said loudly for her benefit, then winked at Doug and whispered, “It was the most amazing experience of my life.”

Sophie groaned. Doug chuckled and hugged her. “Don’t worry, babe. When the band makes it big we’ll tour all over the world.”

“From Winnipeg to New York, then Tokyo,” she muttered.

“Exactly.” Doug pointed at her to cement the point. “Positive intentions.”

“Make it happen.” She shoved his shoulder. “I’m going to be pissed until it does.”

“On it,” he promised before he encouraged Kailyn to stand and dance with him while he sang her a Riley Rivers song.

“Doug’s in a good mood,” I said to Sophie as I made scrambled eggs.

“Yeah. Weird, right? He’s been perma-happy since we went on tour. And I don’t know why since life on the road kind of bites.” She flicked my arm and raised one eyebrow in a suggestive way. “We passed Murphy and Trevor going the other way on the highway. When did he get home from California?”

“Last night.” I served the eggs onto five plates and slid them across the table one at a time.

“That’s interesting timing. Did he come over for breakfast?” She braced her boot against the side of the cupboards and leaned until her stool teetered on only two feet, balancing by resting her back against the wall.

“Nope.” I leaned my elbows on the table.

“Too bad,” she made a purring sound in her throat. Doug gave her a pseudo-offended look, so she said, “Don’t worry, babe. The ruggedly handsome outdoorsy type doesn’t do it for me.”

He laughed.

She kicked my leg. “I have a good feeling. I think you and Trevor are going to finally get together this summer.”

“You should probably let go of that hope. It definitely wasn’t meant to be. He has a girlfriend now.”

“What? When did that happen?”

I shrugged, not really sure about the details. “Kailyn mentioned something about it a couple of months ago. I also overheard Murphy and his brother going on once about how hot she is.”

“Hey, Doug!” Sophie shouted across the kitchen and interrupted the guys talking. “Did you know Trevor’s been seeing someone?”

His smile disappeared and his eyes shifted between Sophie and me. “I. Uh.” He frowned, trying to figure out the best way to answer the question. “I.” He winced. “Maybe.”

She shook her head and threw a spoon that bounced off his chest. “You need to mention shit like that.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know about that rule.” He chuckled. “Next time I’ll tell you right away.”

“You, of all people, know ignorance of the law is not a defence. I’ll deal with you later.”

He smiled in a way that made it seem like he was looking forward to whatever her wrath for withholding information was going to be. He winked at her, then rejoined the conversation with the guys.

Sophie pulled a bottle of purple nail polish out of her pocket. “I don’t get why Trevor still hasn’t asked you out. You were single all year.”

I twirled a chunk of my hair around my finger repeatedly. “He obviously had better options. Her name is Lindy.”

“Lindy Jacobsen wants to make a baby with Trevor,” Kailyn said.

“See.” My face unintentionally grimaced at the visual of Trevor and Lindy doing it.

Sophie laughed as she applied a coat of dark-purple over her already black nails. “Don’t give up yet, Deri. You have the rest of the summer to get in his pants and make him forget he ever met her.”

“I don’t want to. I accepted the scholarship in Toronto. There’s no point to having a summer fling that can’t go anywhere after that.”

“Oh, there’s a point to a summer fling. Trust me.”

“Not with Trevor.” I shook my head. “I would want more if I ever got together with him. But.” I paused for dramatic effect. “I heard Mason is back in town. I wouldn’t mind a summer fling with him. He would definitely be a nice way to soak up every second of the last summer I will ever spend in Britannia Beach. Fun. Carefree.”

“Mason?” Her lips puckered into a fish face and she glanced up at the ceiling as she thought back. “Cartwright? I almost forgot about that guy.”

“I didn’t.” I lifted my eyebrows in an animated way and smiled.

She wrinkled her nose, not as enthusiastic about the option of Mason as I was.

Thunder cracked outside. When I glanced out the window a series of completely random images flicked through my mind: It was pouring rain. I fell and my body jolted from the painful impact. Rocks and water flooded towards me. Fast. Lots of rushing water. Then freezing-cold darkness engulfed me. I couldn’t breathe. I was drowning.

“Derian.” Sophie gently placed her hand on my wrist. She was one of the few people outside my family and Trevor’s family who knew I sometimes experienced intuitive visions. She also knew that it usually predicted something traumatic. She studied my expression as she waited for me to tell her what I’d seen.

My heart pounded. My breath was still ragged, as if I had actually fallen and almost drowned.

“What happens?” Sophie whispered so the guys wouldn’t hear.

“I don’t know. It felt like someone drowning. It was too vague, as usual. Just rain and water and, ugh, nothing useful about who, when, or where.” I glanced over at the guys in the band to see if any of them had noticed me have my brain glitch. Fortunately, they were busy washing their dishes and not paying attention. I lowered my voice and said, “I didn’t have any visions the entire time I was in Europe. Maybe they only happen when I’m near something I’m emotionally connected to, like Britannia Beach.”

“Or Trevor,” she said.

Hmm. That hadn’t occurred to me, but it was possible. Trevor and Britannia Beach went hand in hand, so it was hard to separate which one had more influence. My unusually heightened intuition was something I inherited from my grandmother’s grandmother and it started when I was about three. When I was young, I’d do things that could be explained as just coincidental, like get up to go meet my dad at the door before his truck even turned in off the highway. Or I would insist on wearing rain boots on a sunny morning in preparation for the unforecasted storm that inevitably showed up in the afternoon. I thought everyone could see things before they happened and I was shocked when Trevor told me he couldn’t. As I got older, I almost only ever saw traumatic things before they happened. And although my visions sometimes helped to prevent the bad thing from happening, they didn’t always. And that was hard to deal with. If I moved away and stopped having the visions, it would be both a relief and a weird loss.

Kailyn interrupted my thoughts when she randomly said to Sophie, “I like your red lips and black eyeliner. You look pretty.”

“Thank you, Kailyn. Could you please tell my mother that?” Sophie slid her sunglasses down from the top of her head and tipped the stool onto all four feet again.

“Are the sunglasses really necessary in the rain?” I asked.

“I have a rock-star image to uphold. Apparently we’re destined to go on a world tour.” She stood and pointed at me threateningly. “You better have some sort of juicy romance details by the time I get back. This is your last hoorah.” The band thanked me for breakfast and filed out the kitchen door. Sophie paused at the doorframe. “Hey, Kailyn, if we see Riley Rivers we’ll tell him you want to marry him. Okay?”

Ecstatic, Kailyn grinned and pressed her fists tightly against her chubby, freckled cheeks as she nodded.

“And Deri, if you don’t get busy with someone soon, I will put up a billboard on the highway to advertise that you’re open for business.” She winked. “Okay?”

“Break a leg. Literally,” I sneered.

“Psychics shouldn’t say shit like that.”

“Oh my God.” I stood abruptly and the stool scarped across the linoleum. “Sorry. You’re right. What if my vision has something to do with your trip? Maybe you guys shouldn’t go.”

“You saw rain and water. It’s kind of vague.”

“And someone falling and drowning.”

“We’ll drive carefully over bridges. And I’ll check the location for life vests on the ferry. I promise. Try to have a vision about the band getting discovered by a music exec.”

“Sophie, seriously. Maybe you shouldn’t go.”

“We’ll be fine, and if we’re not, at least you can take comfort in the fact that you tried to stop me.”

Knowing there was no way to convince her to not take risks, I shook my head and sighed. “Be careful.”

“I will, and if I meet a girl named Lindy, I’ll kick her ass for you.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet. But I don’t care that he has a girlfriend. I moved on, remember?”

“Yeah. Sure you did.”

“Seriously. I have. Any idea when you’re going to move on and let the pipe dream go, too?”

She flashed me a peace sign and disappeared out the door. I watched through the windows as she ran back through the rain to the van, covering her long, black hair with her arms. A thick, grey mist had rolled in over the mountain and gave the dark silhouettes of the giant cedars and Douglas firs a ghost-like appearance. The fog swallowed the van as it drove away, which I hoped wasn’t a bad omen. I gave Kailyn a plate of food to take next door to her dad and promised to play checkers with her in the afternoon. She exited out the kitchen door and walked across the parking lot to their house with big, wide strides that made her body sway exaggeratedly from side to side. The rain didn’t seem to bother her.

As I headed to the lobby, my phone buzzed with a text. It was from Trevor: Save me a muffin?

Considering that I had moved on, receiving a text from him really shouldn’t have had the effect on my body that it did. To force my old feelings for him back below the surface I reminded myself he had a girlfriend and I was leaving for Toronto at the end of the summer. Then I responded: They’re not as good when they’re not hot out of the oven.

Trevor’s reply dinged right away: Been thinking about your famous apple cinnamon muffins the whole time you were gone. Looking forward to it.

I smiled and shook my head as I typed back: Weird that you spend that much time thinking about muffins.

Did you miss me?

My breathing halted and I stared at the screen of my phone. Why? Why did he ask things like that? How is a person supposed to respond to a question like that? No, I didn’t miss you because you have a girlfriend and I’ve actually been trying to forget about my feelings for you all year. Or, yes, I missed you. I miss you every single day. I always have, and I can’t imagine ever not missing you.

Before I had a chance to come up with an appropriate response that couldn’t be misread, my phone rang. It was him, so I answered.

“Welcome home,” he said. His smile was audible.

“You too.” Not wanting to touch on the “did you miss me?” question I said, “I was hoping you’d come over for breakfast so I could hear how the road trip was.”

“Yeah, sorry. I want to hear about your trip, too. But we have a Search and Rescue training thing all day today. It starts in a minute.” I waited for him to ask me to hang out or meet up somewhere, but instead he asked, “Are you still planning to go to U of T?”

“Uh.” When I first received the acceptance letters from both schools, I had been leaning towards the University of British Columbia to stay close to everyone. But the University of Toronto offer also came with a scholarship, so the financial factors, combined with my reluctance to move in with my mom in Vancouver, pushed me to make an impulsive decision to move across the country. “I accepted the scholarship at U of T.” After a weird silence I added, “But since UBC accepted me, too, I can still transfer. I have until the end of July to withdraw from U of T if I decide not to take the scholarship.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before he said, “Well, you should probably take the money, but if you decide to stay in Vancouver and go to UBC, you can live at your mom’s during the week and I’ll drive you up here on weekends.”

Right. He hadn’t heard the news about the Inn yet. And saying it out loud made it real, which I had hoped to avoid for as long as possible. But he was going to find out eventually anyway, so I said, “The sale of the Inn went through last week. The new owners take over in September. Whichever school I choose I will have to move out of Britannia Beach.”

“Oh.”

I waited for him to say more because “oh” wasn’t enough of a reaction to tell how he felt about it.

After another long silence he said, “I’ve gotta go, Deri. The training is starting. Is it all right if we talk later?”

Talking about it probably wasn’t going to make it any easier, but I said, “Yeah. Okay.”

He said goodbye. I sighed and hung up as thunder cracked outside and the rain pounded down harder. Scenes from my vision flashed through my mind again and I panicked when I realized it might have had something to do with Trevor training in the storm. My hands fumbled to call him back, but he didn’t answer.