sorry for her.
“You tell me,” Jenny said. “You touch someone, you can see the future?”
“Just the future of that person, which keeps things fuzzy,” Mariella told her. “And the future can change if you tell them about it, but it rarely does. I see their futures whether they want me to or not. Even if I don’t want to see—that’s why I wrap myself up in public. If I don’t, I’m overwhelmed with glimpses of everyone’s future. And that can be very sad and depressing. But here, I’ll show you.” Mariella took off a glove and reached for Jenny’s hand.
“No!” Jenny pulled back quickly.
“I’m sorry.” Mariella smiled. “Not everyone wants to know their future.”
“Well...that’s true,” Jenny said, taking advantage of the excuse Mariella had just provided for her. “I don’t think I’d want to know.” The exact opposite was true. Jenny was eager to know what lay ahead, especially for the baby. “Can you see your own future?”
“That’s the most difficult,” Mariella said. “Because, when you see your own future, you react to it in the present, and that changes the future. Over and over. My own is almost entirely a blur. Only a few things stand out clear and strong.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Like the boy I told you about.” She gave a glowing smile at the thought of Seth, which did not make Jenny very happy at all. “I can see him in my future. I knew I would meet him in Paris. This is why I came to school in France.”
“What...kinds of things do you see?”
“It is more of a sensation. An aching here...” Mariella touched her chest. “Almost like being lovesick. It is ridiculous, but...do you believe in reincarnation?”
Jenny, who could remember lifetime after lifetime stretching back tens of thousands of years, shrugged. “I suppose anything is possible.”
“What if he is my soulmate?” Mariella asked. “Maybe that’s why I have such...passionate dreams about him.” The girl blushed and giggled, and Jenny resisted the urge to smack her across the face, pox and all. “I just wish I could find him. I know that when I do, my life will finally start to make sense.”
Jenny didn’t have much to say about that. They approached Place d'Italie, a ring of parks centered on a fountain. Jenny could hop onto the Metro and escape here. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear more about Mariella’s passionate dreams of Seth.
“What about you?” Mariella asked. “What’s your secret?”
“Who says I have one?”
“You can tell me.” Mariella bumped her arm and snickered, almost as if they were friends. “You know about me. What can you do? There’s something in your touch, too, isn’t there?” She reached for Jenny’s hand again.
“Don’t.” Jenny tucked her hand in her jacket pocket.
“What happens to you when someone touches you?” Mariella asked.
“Nothing,” Jenny said. “Nothing happens to me at all.”
“Am I misunderstanding something?” Mariella frowned at her. Her full lower lip made a cute little pout when she frowned, which made Jenny want to upgrade from smacking her to scratching her. “You seemed to know me. I thought...” A sad look crept into her bright green eyes, and she looked away.
“What did you think?”
“I thought you were someone like me. How did you know so much?”
“I’m not like you,” Jenny said.
“Did you once know someone like me? Is that it?” Mariella looked hopeful. “Maybe you have seen the boy I need?”
“There is no boy.”
“I have to go,” Mariella said, checking the time on her phone. “Can we talk again? Over a nice bottle of wine, maybe? I would like to hear more of your thoughts. Although you must think I am out of my mind now.” She gave a small, awkward smile.
Jenny looked over the pretty Mediterranean girl in the pricey high-fashion clothes. Part of her already hated Mariella for her interest in Seth. Another part of her felt bad for the girl, who’d clearly stumbled through life without meeting anyone like herself, something Jenny fully understood. Now Mariella was trying to reach out to her own kind—unfortunately for her, most of their kind tended to be wicked, ruthless, and deceptive. Jenny herself had always been a powerful evil force. She was working her hardest to change that, but very few of her past-life memories gave any guidance on how to live with the pox and still be a good person.
Yet another part of Jenny recognized that the girl could be tricking her in any number of ways. Maybe she was another Ashleigh, capable of charming people