Gasp (Visions) - Lisa McMann Page 0,14
from a Monopoly game,” Trey says softly. “Dear God.”
Dad slips the thimble into his pocket.
My stomach hurts.
I look at Trey. He looks at me. We drop our eyes and walk away.
• • •
Later, after we’ve debriefed Mom and everybody else is either in their bed or in a sleeping bag on the floor, I find her again in the dimly lit dining room, sitting at the table holding a cup of hot chocolate, staring out the window into the darkness.
I pull out a chair. She turns at the noise and smiles at me.
“Are you feeling okay, sweetie?” she asks.
“Yeah, I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
She puts her warm hand on mine and squeezes. “I’m fine. It’s just a house. It’s just a business. Replaceable things.”
I nod and contemplate that for a long moment. “Waiting up for Dad?”
“Yep,” she says, trying to sound upbeat. Trying to sound like the old Mom we’re used to.
She takes a sip from her mug and turns back to the window.
After a minute I ask, “Aren’t you mad at him? I mean, it’s kind of his fault . . .” The words aren’t coming out right, so I stop talking.
For a moment I think Mom doesn’t hear me. But finally she turns again to smile at me. And then she nods. “Yes, Julia,” she says in a measured tone. “I’m very mad. I’m mad that your father won’t get help. I’m mad that I can’t make him. I’m mad that he can’t see . . .” She trails off.
Maybe it’s the darkness, maybe it’s the circumstances, maybe it’s because I’m seventeen now. I’m not sure. But it’s the first time she’s been so honest with me about her feelings. And I think it’s the first time she’s treated me like an adult, rather than protecting me because I’m her kid.
“Maybe he’ll get help now,” I say. But knowing what I know about the Demarco curse, I don’t really believe it. He’s been in the hospital before for his mental illness, and he won’t go near anyone who could put him there again.
I don’t think my mom believes it either.
Just then my phone vibrates. I frown and look at it. It’s a text message from a number I don’t recognize. When I open the message, I almost drop the phone.
It reads: I want to talk about the vision thing.
Thirteen
“Are you all right?” my mom asks.
My heart is racing. I look up from my phone. “Yeah,” I say. I close the message, slide my phone back into the pocket of my sweatshirt, and yawn. “No big deal. I’m going to bed. Or . . . to sleeping bag, that is.” And then I add, “I’m sure Dad will be home soon.”
Mom gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Me too.”
We say good night. In the living room I hunker down inside my sleeping bag and pull out my phone again.
Sure, let’s talk. Who is this? I type in response. It could be anybody. We gave our numbers out freely at the meeting Sunday night.
I wait for a response. It comes: Tori Hayes.
My heart races. “It is her!” I whisper.
Rowan kicks me and I emerge from my sleeping bag.
“What are you doing under there?” she asks. “Sexting with Sawyer?”
Trey is looking at me too, propped up on his elbow. “Gross,” he says. “That’s Nick’s sleeping bag. You don’t know what other body fluids could be in there.”
“Yick. Don’t be disgusting. I thought you guys were asleep,” I say, pushing the sleeping bag off me. My hands are sweating and I’m suddenly nervous about what to say to Tori next. I just need to keep it cool. “One sec,” I say, and then I type: Oh hey Tori. Sorry, didn’t have you in my phone. Can Sawyer and I come see you tomorrow after school?
Tori’s response is quick: I’ll be here. Like always.
I look up and explain in a whisper, “It’s Tori. She wants to talk about the visions.”
Trey’s attitude changes fast. “Oh, wow,” he says. “For real?”
“Which one is Tori?” Rowan asks.
“The one still in the hospital,” I say. “She got shot in the stomach.”
“You were right,” Trey muses. “Sawyer passed it on.”
I smile grimly. “Looks that way.”
Rowan screws up her face. “How’s a girl in the hospital supposed to help you figure out the tragedy? She can’t even get out of bed.”
I shrug. “All she needs to do is tell us what’s going on in her vision. We can figure out the rest. It’s not her problem. It’s