The Adventures of Jillian Spectre. Nic Tatano

is already fogged up. Hmmm. Usually it takes awhile.

      The image clears, and what I see makes my eyes grow wide. I gasp. “Oh my…”

      “What? I’m dead?”

      I shake my head as the images suddenly fly by at increasing speed, too fast to process, like they did in the afterlife reading. Everything disappears at the five-year mark. Roxanne is still alive.

      “What, Jillian? Talk to me!”

      I exhale deeply. “You’re not gonna die. Geez, that was intense. It has to be something to do with touching you.”

      She grabs my hands and squeezes them, leans forward with fear in her eyes. “What, dammit? What did you see? You had this expression, like something shocked you. Jillian, if I’m gonna die and you don’t tell me I swear I’ll come back as a friggin’ ghost and haunt you forever.”

      “No, honest to God, Rox, the images went the full five years. You’re not going to die.”

      “So what the hell did you see that made you get react like that?”

      I tell her and she immediately starts shaking her head. “No friggin’ way,” she says.

      ***

      “That’s gotta be it, your touch!” says Mom, sipping a beer as she walks around the living room. “It’s the key.”

      “Do you have any idea why?”

      She shakes her head. “Not a clue. Have you ever touched a client in that manner before?”

      “Uh-uh. I mean, I shake hands when I meet them, but nothing like this. When the woman, Donna, took my hands she was definitely a little apprehensive. She looked right at me and I could see a little fear in her eyes. I figured she was worried that I’d tell her something bad. Roxanne was nervous too, worrying about possibly dying.”

      “Hmmm. The emotion might also be a factor. A handshake is casual. But if you’re connected when the client is emotional, that must somehow trigger a different kind of reading. You say the images are flying by?”

      “It starts out normal, then speeds up, like a DVD on fast forward. I couldn’t possibly keep up with it.”

      Mom furrows her brow. “At what point did the images speed up?”

      “Well, with Donna, it was right after I saw her murder. The afterlife image started at normal speed and then it did the same thing. With Roxanne, it was right after I saw…you know, what I told you.” I see the image in my mind again and it makes me cringe.

      She slowly nods. “Both caused emotional responses in you. Donna’s reading scared you, Roxanne’s upset you. Had they not, I would guess you would have seen the images at your normal speed.” She pauses a moment, looks up at the ceiling as if searching for inspiration, then back at me. “I need to get in touch with The Council about this so they can explore it before we get there this weekend. Perhaps there’s some precedent they know about.”

      “And in the meantime?”

      “Try taking the hands of a few clients this week. See what happens.”

      ***

      I’m bleary-eyed from lack of sleep and the image that played on an endless loop making my imagination run wild. My mind has created many upsetting scenarios, all of which include something physical. Roxanne slides her tray onto the table and takes a seat across from me. I’m about to make my case and open my mouth when she cuts me off before I can say a word. “Don’t even start with me.”

      “Rox, really, you have to go—”

      “No. I’m not having this argument again.”

      “Honestly, it won’t bother me.”

      She rolls her eyes. “What a steaming pile of horse shit, Jillian. Of course it will bother you and I know it’s been bothering you. It would bother me if the roles were reversed. Look, one date in high school doesn’t mean anything to me one way or the other, and I’m not hurting my best friend.” She looks around to make sure no one’s within earshot, then leans closer and drops her voice to a tone that tells me she’s digging in her heels. “I am not going on a date with Ryan. When he asks me out I’m politely turning him down. End of story.”

      The image flashes through my mind again and makes me cringe ever so slightly though I try to maintain my game face. Ryan stopping by her locker, asking her out to the dance…

      And then, of course, everything went into super fast forward so I have no idea what happened next.

      Because, as Mom theorizes, I was upset at the thought of the guy I desperately want for myself going out with my best friend.

      Well, make that one of the guys I desperately want. (Hey, cut me some slack, I’m a teenage girl. I can like more than one guy, okay? And no, I don’t wanna share.)

      Still, what do I do? Maybe that’s the first date of a long relationship. Maybe Ryan and Roxanne are soul mates, and meant for each other, would have a happily ever after ending.

      Or maybe I’ll grow a pair and ask him out one day.

      But she deserves the chance to find out if he’s the one. “Look, he obviously likes you or—”

      “Stop it. I’ve known him as long as you have. Sure, we like each other well enough…as friends…and he’s a great guy. But he’s not my type. He’s your type.”

      “My type might also be Jake. What, I’m going to call dibs on all the guys at this school I might have a crush on and forbid you to consider any of them? That’s not exactly fair.”

      “Jillian, he’s your best male friend. He might one day become your true love. You’ve had it bad for him the last year or so since you started looking at him differently. And you know boys mature later than we do. Give him some time to figure things out. Wouldn’t that be cool, to marry someone you love who’s also a great friend, someone with whom you have everything in common? I’m not going to come between that possibility. No, he’s yours. Besides, I aint datin’ no mindreader. One look inside this head and he’d leave skid marks running away. And like I said, he’s not my type.”

      “Okay, so what is your type?” I already know, I just want her to admit it.

      “Doesn’t exist at this school.”

      “Now who’s shoveling the horse shit? I’ve seen you bite your knuckles when that Brian Kale walks by. You can’t tell me you don’t think he’s pretty hot.”

      “Yeah, but he’s a crash test dummy. You ever talk to him? He’s TSTL.” (That’s too stupid to live for those who aren’t privy to teenage girl acronyms.)

      “Rox, I know you like Ryan. You always have.”

      “End. Of. Discussion.”

      She gives me the Sicilian death stare usually reserved for losers who hit on her and I know it’s time to back off and drop the subject. I’ll be honest here; I’m relieved she’s not going out with him. Time to fess up. “Thank you,” I say softly, dropping my head and staring at the mystery elbow macaroni casserole that might actually contain the elbows of some poor creature.

      She reaches across the table and lifts my chin so that I’m looking at her. “I could never hurt you, Jillian. Just like you could never hurt me. I’ve always got your back.”

      She’s protected me from bullies, now the game has changed. Still the big sister keeping me from getting hurt. “You know, for a muse you inspire a lot more than creativity.”

      She begins eating her lunch. “By the way, on the subject of hot guys…” Her eyebrows went up and so did her voice, into a sing-song third grade lilt. “I know someone who likes Jill-i-an…”

      ***

      His name