Cipher

Chapter Twelve

“Is something wrong?” Troy asked her as he pulled in front of Off the Record. “You’ve hardly said a word.” After chemistry class, he’d asked Summer if she wanted to go with him after school to get the new Monkey Saddle vinyl he’d ordered. He’d promised her fries across the street afterward, too, as if she’d needed any more motivation that flipping through old records with him. What she hadn’t expected, though, was the icky sensation she’d have in her gut by the time school let out. Or the desperation she’d feel after wracking her brain all day for a way to help Ash and still ending up with a whole lot of nothing.

“I’m a little tired,” she said. Not a complete lie. All the stress and worry had made it impossible to sleep last night. The truth played over and over in her head: She needed to think of some way to help Ashlyn and Pamela repair their relationship, and failure was not an option. Gabriella claimed she should be a natural, which only made the icky sensation worse. Nothing about her problem-solving job seemed natural. In fact, she kept coming up blank, then the depression would hit.

The sun hit Troy’s silver thumb ring, sending light bouncing around the car. “We don’t have to do this now. I can get the album later.”

Good thing she was an expert at forcing down her problems and acting like everything was cool. “Nonsense. We’re already here, and I’ll feel better once I get my blood pumping. Plus, you promised there would be fries.”

He smiled, easing the concern in his features. “So, so many fries.”

For the first time all day, she found herself smiling for real. Being around Troy calmed her, and she could use a lot of help in that department. She got out of the car and met Troy on the sidewalk.

The chime over the door rang as they pushed inside the record store. Summer inhaled the air that only a mix of old and new records could bring. Aisles of records filled the place, treasures she’d love to take home. Only she usually chose CD or digital versions, whereas Troy had a record player and the collection to go with it.

His album would be waiting behind the counter, but he walked to the shelves and started to flip through them. Summer stuck next to him, watching his expressions as he took in each album. He wrinkled his nose. Nodded at the next one. Pulled out an old Aerosmith album—Pump—and ran his hand across the cover, which basically looked like one truck humping another.

“Already have this one, though,” he said, more to himself she thought, then put it back.

“One of your dad’s?”

He nodded. A large part of his collection had been his dad’s, though he avoided talking about the guy for the most part. In fact, he was moving on, obviously not wanting to say anything else about the subject.

Summer drifted in the other direction. Up front they had buttons and key chains. She was definitely ready to get rid of her clunky one. As she spun through the rack, though, her thoughts drifted back to Ashlyn. Days ago she’d been laughing and hanging out with Ashlyn, thinking how awesome it was to find someone who got her. Ashlyn didn’t care when she went off on random tangents. She seemed to like her sarcasm and weird jokes. In fact, she added to them. Laughed along with her.

I’ve never clicked with anyone like I’ve clicked with her. Her heart was folding in on itself again, the ickiness spreading throughout her insides once more.

There had to be a way around it. A way to make up for the lives she couldn’t save. She was sure if she concocted a good enough plan, she could find a way to change the future. To keep Ash alive.

“How about that one?” Troy asked.

Summer hadn’t even heard him come over. She followed his finger and saw him pointing to a keychain that said, I’m not crazy. ask my invisible friend. He reached down and picked up another. cute but psycho, kind of evens things out.

The first one seemed like a joke, but now worry was taking hold. Had other people noticed she was starting to lose it? “Why would you suggest those?”

“Well, this one because you’re cute, and this one because you’re a little crazy.” Troy nudged her. “Come on, it’s a joke.”

Right. If it was a joke it might be funny. “I think I’ll just keep the one I have. Or take it off. I don’t really need a keychain. It’s not like I can’t find my keys as long as I have the canister of mace attached to them.”

The urge to get out of the store overwhelmed her. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be in here anymore.”

“One sec. Gotta buy my stuff first.”

Summer twisted a strand around her hair as she waited, shifting her wait from one foot to another. Troy was laughing with the cashier, in no hurry whatsoever. Summer kept glancing at the door. Her pulse was picking up speed. She needed out of here. Now.

She started for the door.

Troy caught up to her as she was pushing out of it. “I should’ve known you had a time limit before the need for fries caught up to you.”

As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Summer bumped into a man who’d been walking the other direction.

The man’s head drops down. Pops back up. His eyes droop again, and his head dips further down. The car veers right, narrowly missing another car. Slams into the concrete, the metal peeling away from the barrier. His head hits the steering wheel, his right side—arm, leg—lost in a sea of metal. He takes a few gasping breaths for air, wheezing and coughing. His last breath slips past his bloody lips.

Summer’s vision cleared and she stared up at the man. “If you’re tired, you should drink a Redbull or something,” she blurted at him, half-angry, half-desperate.

His brow furrowed. “You bumped into me.”

She flung her arms up. “I’m not talking about here on the sidewalk! I’m talking about before you drive anywhere.”

Looking at her like she was she was a lunatic, he shook his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

Summer jabbed a finger into his chest. “I’m serious. This isn’t a joke. You could endanger other people. You could kill somebody.” Then her job came to mind. “And have you made peace with your family? You don’t want to leave them wondering if you care about them.”

Troy grabbed her hand and tugged her away. The man stared after her, mouth hanging open. She tried to yank out of Troy’s grasp, but his fingers tightened, and she had no choice but to force her feet to follow. After a couple of large strides, he spun around, his green eyes searching her face. “What was that all about?”

The ground spun under her, and her knees felt like they might buckle. Black spots danced across her vision, and then came the icy, black feeling that started in the pit of her stomach and rose up to settle in her chest. She gripped Troy’s arms, holding onto him so she wouldn’t fall, and tried to blink the world back into focus.

When it did, Troy was still staring at her, apparently waiting for an answer.

“He…He looked tired,” Summer said. “Did you know falling asleep at the wheel is one of the leading causes of death?” When she started seeing people dying, morbid curiosity drove her to research those kinds of things.

“The poor guy was just walking down the sidewalk, and you went off on him. He didn’t even look that tired.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the man walking in the opposite direction, and she was pretty sure he was muttering something to himself. Summer turned back to Troy. He was still staring at her, concern swimming in his green eyes.

How in the world am I going to explain this? The answer was simple. She wasn’t. Because he’d never believe the real explanation.

She slowly released the death-grip she had on Troy and took a deep breath. “Well, I’m tired. Let’s go get something to eat.” She hoped food would help settle her stomach. It suddenly felt like she hadn’t eaten all day. Like she might even pass out if she didn’t get something soon.

She started toward the restaurant, wishing the food was in her hands already. But Troy’s hand wrapped around her elbow, holding her in place. “I can tell something’s up, you know. Sometimes you seem really happy, then sometimes really low.”

If she turned back to look at him, she was going to burst into tears. So she kept her eyes glued to the streetlight flashing for pedestrians to go and said, “Congratulations, you’ve just described every girl on the planet. If you can’t handle my mood swings, I guess you’ll have to go hang out with your guy friends.” She yanked her arm away. “But for now, your moody friend would like some fries.”

This time Troy didn’t stop her; he simply followed.

They ordered their food, not bothering with small talk while they waited. Finally, the food came, and even though her stomach was still rolling, she was also starving. But no matter how much Summer ate, she still felt empty. The nightmares would come tonight. They always did after a brush with someone else’s death.

Troy pushed his now-empty plate aside and leaned forward, his eyes locked on hers, his jaw set in determination. “I know that Kendall claims to be your oldest friend here, but she’s wrong. I met you first, and let’s face it, I’m better with the deeper stuff.” He threw out a smile, but it was a tight, cautious smile. “So. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Summer had to glance away, because it seemed like those eyes could see straight through her. It was the same intense stare that had caused her to open up to him about Mom all those months ago. Last June, while everyone else had been celebrating the end of school at a giant party, she and Troy had an intense conversation about their parents. She’d gone on and on about Mom—though she hadn’t told him quite everything—and he’d opened up about his dad, who’d left him and his mom several years ago.

“I’m tired and stressed is all. I’m fine. Really,” she said, because there was nothing else she could say. Under the starlit sky that night all those months ago with Troy, she’d almost felt whole again. But then she hadn’t seen him all summer, and now…Well, telling him she was seeing the Angel of Death and that she sometimes saw people’s lives ending? That would only land her in a mental institution.

Still feeling crappy from her encounter with the guy in North Park and having to lie to Troy, who didn’t say a word the entire way home, Summer rushed up the stairs to her room. She needed to flop on her bed and turn up her music, loud enough it’d drown out thoughts of people dying.

So of course Gabriella was standing in the middle of her bedroom, hair slightly disheveled, pink skirt looking extra puffy today. So much for avoiding death.

In theory, Dad couldn’t see her. Summer decided to shut the door anyway.

Gabriella stuck her fists on her hips and scowled at Summer. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

Summer ran over her day in her head, trying to figure out what Gabriella was talking about. “I didn’t say anything. Not to my dad. Or to Troy.”

“I mean Larry. The man you yelled at on the sidewalk. He got all freaked out, went overboard on the caffeine, and almost hit another person when his car wrecked. Other people could’ve been killed because of your interference.”

What little energy she had, leaked out of her, and she sagged against her wall. “So he’s dead?”

“No thanks to you,” Gabriella huffed. “Do you realize how bad things could get if you mess with fate?”

A sharp pain jabbed Summer between the ribs. She knew how bad they could get if you didn’t. She pushed off the wall, a tornado of frustration and sorrow churning inside her. “If I’m doing such a crap job then fire me.”

Gabriella pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “You were trying to do a Guardian Angel’s job. Not your job.

“Well maybe I’d rather be a Guardian Angel, then.”

“Sorry, dear. You have to have died already to fulfill that position. Are you ready to leave all this behind?” Gabriella gestured around her and then crossed her arms firmly across her chest. “So, you have something not ideal going on in your life. What about all the things you do have? A nice home. Friends. Your dad.”

“I don’t have my mom.” It burst out of her, along with a couple of tears. “I need my mom.”

Gabriella’s stern posture loosened. She reached out and gently wiped a tear from Summer’s cheek. “Yes, I do feel for you there. I’m sorry that’s been so hard on you, but some people don’t have any family. Or they do, and their families don’t treat them well. Some people go hungry. Some people have a debilitating disease.” Her hand moved to Summer’s shoulder, and she flashed her a consoling smile. “We all have our lots in life, and this is yours. If you’d try a little bit, you’d see that you’re good at it.”

“But what if that Larry guy needed some resolution? I thought that was what I was supposed to do. That is in my job description, according to you.”

“If he needed one, we’d already have a Cipher on it, long before you saw him die. Most people don’t need Ciphers. We only send you gals in when we know the circumstances call for a little extra help.”

“Maybe I’m not supposed to be a Cipher. I think you guys got it wrong this time. For one, I’m not even sure if I believe in all that stuff anymore. I’ve doubted that everything happens for a reason for a while now.”

“For one year and two months. I know.” Gabriella’s voice softened. “I believe in you, and right now, I need you to believe—to know—that you are the right person to help Ashlyn.”

Summer stepped back far enough for Gabriella’s hand to drop from her shoulder. “You know, I’m getting a little sick of just hoping that you know what you’re doing. You’re wrong. I’m not supposed to do this.”

Gabriella’s lower lip quivered, tears filled her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice shook. “I didn’t get it wrong. You simply need to try harder. I wish I had the experience to tell you how to do that.” She sniffed. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

Great, along with feeling crappy and sad and angry, she got to feel guilty for making the bubbly Gabriella cry. Who knew that was even possible? “I’m sorry, Gabriella. I didn’t mean it to come out so harsh. I feel as lost as you do.”

“It’s been such a stressful week.” Gabriella fluttered her lids, the tears caught in her lashes winking in the light. “You know, I don’t always know why things are the way they are either. But I have faith things will work out in the end. I even have faith you’ll figure this out. I’m going to get you through this job, Summer, even if it’s the death of me.” A choked laugh came from her. “Pardon the expression. Obviously, that ship has sailed.”

“I’ll try harder this week, I promise,” Summer said. “I didn’t know I couldn’t tell people. I just felt the need to do something.”

“Well, you’re doing fairly well, considering everything.” Gabriella’s watch chimed and she sighed. “I’ve got to go deliver some more messages.”

Summer’s spirits sank even lower. Great. More messages mean more people dying.

Gabriella took Summer’s hand and sandwiched it between hers. “Keep trying, Summer Dear. You’ll get the hang of it.” She smiled, and then she was gone.

As Summer stared at the now-empty spot, she wondered if she’d ever get used this new facet of her life. It didn’t seem all that odd to be talking to the Angel of Death anymore. The disappearing act still weirded her out a bit, though.

Too tired to think anymore, Summer fell into bed and drifted to sleep.

The horrific images of death didn’t wait long to creep into her mind.