arliswolf - Tumblr blog

arliswolf · 9 years

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we’re like a disney channel movie, minus the singing (sometimes, anyway)

chapter one: in fair verona, where we lay our scene

When Odeya is six years old, she falls asleep on the way to her grandparents’ house, and wakes up in the same car, going in a different direction.

“It’s not that icy out,” her father is saying to her mother, peering into the rear view mirror, then back out the window. Snow showers down around them, obscuring his view of the road more than Odeya is comfortable with. “You’re overreacting, honey.”

“I’m not overreacting,” her mother disagrees, nervously looking out of the passenger door window. “There’s a reason no one else is on the road, Jesse.”

“That’s because they’re scaredy cats,” he scoffs, playful cockiness apparent in the modulation of his voice. “Baby, we’re going to be fine. Don’t you trust me?”

Her mother tosses him an aggravated grimace. “It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s the weather. And the seven other idiots that chose to drive in this weather.” She worries her bottom lip, trying to see through the white blur that clouds her vision. “Can’t you just pull over?”

“Pull over where, Cynthia? There’s no hotel for miles, and we’ll freeze to death if I just stop here.”

“I don’t care, just stop the damn car!”

Jesse stifles an irritated sigh, and turns on his blinker, signaling to the cars behind him that he’s pulling over. He carefully shoulders off to the side of the road, thankfully avoiding any ice on the road. Once they’re parked, he cuts the engine, and smiles over at his wife. “See? I told you we’d be f----”

She wakes up on familiar couch in her grandparents’ house, and screams.

“They can’t come back here, Granma,” she cries, tugging on the woman’s hand. “Granma, they can’t! They’re going to die!”

“It was just a dream, child,” her grandmother repeats again and again, staring at her in bewilderment. “It was just a dream.”

Every part of Odeya wants to believe her, but some part of her just knows. She can’t explain it, can’t quite put into words how, but she knows that the dream wasn’t just a dream at all. Tears rush down her face without cease, and she tries again and again to get through to her grandparents.

When she’s tired herself out, she collapses into her grandpa’s arms. “They’re going to die,” she sobs as he rocks her back and forth, muttering promises that she knows he won’t be able to keep. “They’re going to die.”

“How did you know?”

Odeya stares blankly at her crying grandmother, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her black dress is pristine, spotless even after the long day she’s walked through. The funeral, and then the burial, and then the wake, and then the fake condolences from distant relatives and estranged family friends. She can see it in everyone’s eyes: they think that she’s bottling her grief, holding back for the sake of appearances, of all things. Surely, that must be it.

Why else would she not cry on the day of her parents’ funeral?

She can’t blame them for the assumption, she thinks, staring into her grandmother’s eyes. No one else knows what she knows. No one would believe her if she told them.

But she’s seen this already. This entire day. Four times.

“How did you know they were going to die,” her grandmother asks again, hysteria creeping in. “How?”

“Heather, please,” her grandfather pleads, pulling his wife back. “The child has been through enough.”

“She knew, Damon!” The woman turns tearful eyes to her husband, mouth quivering with rising sobs. “She knew. Don’t you remember? She screamed for hours that day. She kept saying they would die, and we -- oh, God, why didn’t we listen? Damon, why didn’t we listen?”

“We had no way of knowing.” He pulls his wife into a strong embrace, letting her sob on his shoulder. “She had no way of knowing, dear. It was just a nightmare.”

Watching them, Odeya idly wonders how long they’ll keep lying to themselves.

There’s something about watching your parents die that changes you. Survivor’s guilt, more than anything else, eats at you until there’s nothing left but shame and a distinct lack of self-preservation. Detachment sets in, and you find yourself wandering farther and farther from the world, constantly asking yourself what exactly you’re going to do now that your parents are gone.

Watching your parents die, and having no one believe you when you warn them it’ll happen is far worse.

Odeya tries -- in all honesty, she does -- to be mentally present when her grandparents speak to her. It isn’t as if she has any sort of mental illness that would make her incapable; it’s just that she finds it hard to live in the present when she spends so much time in the future.

In the five years since her parents’ passing, her visions haven’t stopped. Every time she falls asleep -- and only once when she was awake -- she sees hours, days, sometimes even months into the future. And while it is sometimes a fortunate circumstance, it also makes it that much harder to stay in touch with reality. It’s taken the fun out of living, being able to see everything that will happen in advance.

It isn’t even as if she only sees monumental events. She sees the smallest things; she has dreams of children finding pennies on the street, and dreams of her grandparents waltzing in the living room -- the most exciting thing she’s seen since her parents’ death was the opening of the new Taco Bell down the street. Every conversation, every lucky or unlucky happenstance, she sees it once, twice, three times before it happens.

“Dude, that sucks.”

Her eyes open, and she glances at the blonde girl sitting next to her. Her grandparents disapprove of her taking the bus, but she has a reasonable fear of cars. She plucks an earbud out of her ear, looking at the girl in confusion. “What?”

“Your visions,” the blonde answers, lowering her voice. “That has to suck.”

Odeya stares with wide eyes.

The blonde girl smirks. “Bet you didn’t see me, didya?”

Odeya blinks away her shock, and sighs. “You got on the wrong bus. That’s why I couldn’t see you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Still didn’t see me,” the blonde boasts, neither denying nor confirming what Odeya knows to be true.

The brunette tips her head at her, the way her father used to do when he was trying to piece together a puzzle. “Was I talking out loud?”

“Nope. I read your mind.”

“That’s not possible.”

“This from the girl who sees things hours, days, months in advance?”

Point.

“Odeya,” she chooses to say, holding out her hand instead of admitting to being proven wrong.

The blonde smirks -- apparently having read her mind, what even -- and shakes her hand. “Athena.”

Odeya raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Your name is Odeya, and you’re seriously judging me?”

Odeya giggles despite herself. It’s probably too early to tell, and she’ll probably get bored with this before long, but she can’t help but feel like this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

“I can’t believe they still don’t believe you.”

“You can’t believe it,” Odeya snorts, pushing ketchup around the tray in front of her. “I’m living it.”

Athena gives her a sympathetic smile, shrugging as if to say, What can ya do? She reaches over and snags a too salty fry from Odeya’s tray, knowing that her friend won’t mind. “I guess you can’t really blame them,” she thinks aloud, simply letting the fry dangle between her lips like a cigarette. “I mean, it’s not like it came into your life in the best way. And that’s not your fault, it’s just harder for others to accept. Like, if you’d told me that the bus we were on that day was about to get shot up or something, I think I’d much rather just lie to myself and say it was just a coincidence or something.”

Odeya hums noncommittally, turning her gaze to the window. She was only sort of right about Athena. It wasn’t long after their meeting that she’d started having visions of the blonde. True to her belief, she has visions of very moment she spent with Athena, and even some that Athena had without her.

On top of that, Athena can read her thoughts. Everything that Odeya plans to say in response, every vision she has, everything she wants to keep to herself, Athena hears and sees it all. She knows that the blonde doesn’t mean to. Much like Odeya can’t control her dreams, Athena can’t quite control what she reads. She tries, and has made a lot of progress in the months that they’ve known each other, but a vast majority of Odeya’s thoughts still make it into her head.

By all means, it should be a boring relationship on both sides. They both know what each other is going to say in advance, and can both see the entire conversation play out before it even begins. It should be Odeya’s least favorite relationship.

But it’s not.

The two make a game out of their powers. They do everything in their power to surprise the other, and have so far found many ways to do so. Athena knows that the future is subject to change; no matter what Odeya envisions, it isn’t necessarily set in stone. One step in the opposite direction, and the future changes. And Odeya knows that Athena can only hear her immediate thoughts, sometimes. So Athena makes it a point to do the unexpected, and Odeya makes her words and actions contradict what she’s thinking on the surface. It’s a damn near impossible game, but they make it interesting.

It’s actually how they end up celebrating Athena’s birthday at In-N-Out instead of the Jungle, like Odeya had thought.

Athena hears the thought, and tosses her a saucy wink, eliciting a laugh from her best friend. “I’m done,” Odeya informs her, rising from her seat. “Do you want my fr-- hey!”

“I’m so sorry,” a girl, about their age, squeaks, jumping back. Her eyes are wide with fear, her brown hair falling in her face. “I’m so sorry.”

Odeya softens. “It’s fine. No harm, no foul.” She steps aside, watching as the girl scurries away. Athena is much better at smarmy responses than she is; she couldn’t have been mean to that girl if she tried. She turns back to the table to find Athena staring into space, oddly silent. “What is it?”

“That girl,” Athena mutters. “I couldn’t read her.”

Odeya glances up in the direction the girl went in, trying to remember if she’d had any visions of the mousy brunette, but finds that the memory of the girl’s face is already fading. Brushing it off, she shrugs. “She’s probably an airhead.”

“Yeah,” Athena agrees, though her voice is still far away. “Probably.”

Odeya should probably be offended.

In fact, the more she thinks about it, the more she isn’t sure that she isn’t offended.

“The Freaky Supernatural Powers Club?” She reads, before glaring at Athena. “Didn’t I explicitly tell you not to do this?”

“You did,” Athena affirms, taking her hand and tugging her into the classroom. “But you tell me to do a lot of things, because you think they’re for the best--”

“Because they are.”

“--and half the time, you’re just scared that I’m right.”

Odeya is preparing to tell her that that is most decidedly not the case -- not this time, anyway -- when her gaze lands on the six people who are already in the room. None of them know each other, except for the two who sit closer to the front of the classroom. All eyes turn to the two girls as they enter the room, and Odeya flinches away from their gazes. She’s seen five different versions of this, and hopes that none of them actually decide to try the bubble trick.

“More people,” the boy in the front cheers. “Wonderful. When can we start?” The girl next to him -- his sister, Odeya knows -- slaps his shoulder, throwing him a warning look.

“I say we start now,” a brunette girl with curly hair voices. “It doesn’t look like anyone else will show up.”

Odeya keeps her mouth shut. Athena’s eyes flicker to her, then back to the room.

“Just so we’re clear,” the boy with dark skin says, pulling a knee up to his chest. “Is this a club for people with actual superpowers, or a club for fanatics?”

“That depends,” the boy in the front quips. “Which one are you?”

The former, Odeya thinks, hoping that Athena can hear her. We all fit into the former.

“He has actual superpowers,” Athena states confidently, dragging Odeya all the way into the room. “We all do.”

“How do you know,” the only other blonde asks, eyeing her warily.

“Because I can read minds.” Silence. “Don’t believe me? Do you want me to prove it?”

“On one hand, no,” the boy in front says. “On the other, I’m curious, so yeah.” He leans forward in his chair, smirking at Athena. “Tell me what I’m thinking, Blondie.”

Athena is quiet as she listens for his thoughts, and Odeya hopes to God she doesn’t humiliate this boy. “You failed your chemistry test -- mainly because Sera wouldn’t help you study, when she knows you suck -- but you figure if you strike a bet with Mrs. Finnegan, you can gamble an A out of her.”

Not even a second goes by before the dark-haired boy grins, lifting his eyebrows in the physical representation of the word respect. “Titus Collins,” he introduces himself, standing up rather pompously. “I never lose.”

Everyone stares blankly, before the girl next to him speaks up. “No, that’s his superpower. He never loses anything, ever. Not a bet, not a video game -- he even wins in Monopoly.”

“That’s all types of unfair,” one of the other boys whines.

“Seraphina Collins,” the girl who’d come to Titus’ defense says, standing once he sits. “I can create anything, just by thinking of it.” To demonstrate, she holds out her hand and closes her eyes. The rest of the occupants in the room watch in fascination as a miniature Lego castle creates itself in her hand, the pieces appearing in thin air. Odeya and Titus are the only ones who look disinterested in the proceedings.

“Simon Malbury,” the lanky boy by the counter says. “I, uh -- I produce pheromones when I play the piano. People get dazed and... it’s a lot creepier than it sounds,” he finishes awkwardly, looking to the ground.

“No, that’s pretty legit,” the blonde disagrees. “I’m Aubrey Briar. I... move things with my mind. Please don’t say the t-word, otherwise I’m going to feel like some crappy background character in a Marvel movie.”

“You?” The black boy lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I’m not just a crappy background character, I’m the one they didn’t put any thought into. I got super strength.” He and Aubrey lean across the desks to share a first bump, muttering about their stupid, unoriginal powers. “Oh. And I’m Zane, by the way.”

Odeya bites back a smile.

“Phoebe Chance,” the last girl introduces, and Odeya notices a slight accent, though she can’t quite place it. “I... control time.” When the room goes silent, she shifts awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah, I know, it’s weird. But if I want to make time stop, or go back, I can. And I can’t really prove it, because I don’t know how to extend that power to someone else, it--” She cuts herself off, taking her bottom lip between her teeth.

“That’s... not gonna lie, that’s pretty dope,” Athena commends with an impressed laugh. “I’m Athena Fierro. I can read minds. But if anyone outside of this room asks, I’m actually the goddess of wisdom.”

Odeya rolls her eyes hard. “For the last time, that won’t work when someone asks you a question neither of you have the answer to.”

She realizes a second too late that she shouldn’t have spoken up, as all eyes turn to her. This is where the visions start to differ. What she says next is what determines how the rest of this meeting plays out. Her fingers curl into Athena’s hand, and she takes as much strength from the grip as she can as Aubrey asks, “What about you? What’s your name?”

Athena squeezes her hand encouragingly, and Odeya tells herself to just rip the band-aid off. “Odeya,” she answers when she’s ready. “I... I see the future when I go to sleep.” The room galls into a shocked silence, and she can’t help but nervously add, “Please don’t ask me to predict your future.”

“What?” Simon snaps out of his shock, shaking his head. “No, we weren’t gonna do that. I mean, asking someone to read your mind is one thing, but asking you to predict the future is something else entirely.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Athena promises. “No one was going to ask.”

Yes, they were, Odeya thinks, swallowing the words. There are three versions of this moment where they do ask.

If Athena hears, she doesn’t say anything.

Phoebe nods, crossing her legs. She’s perched on top of one of the desks, and Odeya is momentarily reminded of a bird. “I’d hate it if someone asked me to take them back in time,” she says, brushing a curl from her face. She doesn’t elaborate, and no one asks her to.

There’s a long, awkward silence before Zane breaks it by saying, “Does no one else feel stereotyped? Like, sure, give the black guy super strength. That’s original.”

And if Odeya chokes on surprised laughter, no one has to know.

Titus is the only one of them in the eighth grade.

It isn’t actually a big deal, except for how much he brags about it. She knows he does it for the sole purpose of annoying them -- she honestly cannot wait for the day when Aubrey loses her chill and beats him up for it; she doesn’t need to be a seer in order to predict that -- but she still hasn’t quite found out how to tune him out.

(It honestly gets to the point where Seraphina conjures up a gag, just to keep him quiet, and he continues to ramble on in his thoughts, just to piss off Athena.)

It’s nothing but another subject for him to boast about, until it comes time for promotion. He gets oddly quiet about it during the last weeks of the school year, always changing the subject when it comes up. Odeya doesn’t think anyone really notices; for all of his arrogance, Titus isn’t nearly as boisterous as he wants them to think. He’s subtle and quiet about the things that matter, hiding them behind the irritating smirk that he wears so well. Sometimes, she wonders where he learned to hide like that, before she remembers that she sees the future, and Athena reads minds, and he never loses.

They don’t have a choice but to hide.

The night before he graduates from middle school, Odeya has a vision.

“It’s fine, you know,” Seraphina lies, keeping a cheerful smile on her face. They’re back in the classroom, the place they’ve met up every day after school for the past year. Aubrey, Phoebe and Athena all stand around her, Simon and Zane standing off to the side, bickering over the color of their ties.

Titus sits at the very back of the classroom, uncharacteristically silent.

“I’ll be fine, it’s just...” Seraphina’s eyes travel to her brother. She’s been crying. “We’ve always been together, you know? We’ve always gone to school together. But I’ll be fine! I’ll get used to it.”

“You’re scared of being alone,” Phoebe realizes. “Hey, Sera, no. You’re not going to be alone, okay?”

“Yeah,” Aubrey agrees, taking her hand. “Just because your dork of a brother won’t be here doesn’t mean you’re getting left behind. We’re going to be here for you, no matter what.”

“Totally.” Zane strolls up to the Latina, throwing an arm over her shoulders. “We’re with you ‘til the end of the line, girl. Can’t get rid of us now.”

Seraphina smiles, a bit more genuine than before, and Athena glances back to Titus. The tanned boy’s lips kick up into a barely there smile, and they both relax.

Odeya wakes up, and buries her face in her pillow, willing herself not to cry, though she doesn’t really know why.

Simon sets a milkshake down in front of her, and Odeya offers him a grateful smile. “So what’s this about,” he asks, his lips closing around the straw of his own smoothie.

There’s something wonderfully simplistic about being with Simon. With him, there are no games or gimmicks, nothing to worry about. The others all take part in Athena’s game of trying to contradict her visions -- and failing, nine times out of ten -- and while it’s fun, it’s also a headache. Odeya enjoys a bit of unpredictability just as much as the next psychic, but the not knowing just confuses her more than it would confuse anyone else. It leaves her brain burning, and her stomach in knots. Simon doesn’t try to be spontaneous or exciting. He’s simply accepted the fact that she know hat he’ll do, and he goes with it.

She loves him for that.

Odeya -- now fifteen years old, having known him for about two and a half years -- shrugs her shoulders. She knows exactly how this conversation will go, and yet she still has no idea how to start it.

Simon nods slowly, scrutinizing her carefully. “Is this about anything in particular or...?”

She quirks a brow at him. “What? You don’t think I’m the kind of girl who’d invite a friend out for milkshakes?”

“I don’t think you would be so nervous if this were just for milkshakes.” He sets his milkshake on the table and gives her an open look. “If you don’t want to talk, I won’t make you. I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I know you are,” she says, sitting up as she nods. “It’s why I invited you instead of Athena. I love her, but she reads my mind, and says the exact opposite of what I predicted, just to mess with me. And I get it-- we’ve been doing it since we were eleven. But it’s annoying sometimes, you know? I just want to have an honest conversation.”

Simon nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“I just... I don’t know.” She sighs, toying with her straw. “I guess I wanted to talk to someone who wouldn’t play any games. For once, I just want to talk to someone, and have them take me seriously.”

“I’m always going to take you seriously,” Simon promises, and she knows that he means it. “Even when you don’t want me to. Someone has to.”

Her lips stretch into a smile that she can’t even begin to bite back. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“It’s about time someone noticed.”

“It’s a concert, Deya, of course it’ll be fun.”

“You’ve said that ten times, and I still disagree.” Not that it matters much; Seraphina has a hold on her arm, dragging her through the thick crowds towards their seats. Odeya lets out a groan. “Why couldn’t you bring Aubrey, or Phoebe? They’ve actually heard of the band.”

“Because you need a pick me up,” Seraphina says easily. Odeya is pretty sure that’s the Sera translation of you didn’t expect me to bring you, so I have to bring you, just to fuck up your day. “You and Athena are still fighting, and she’s a lot bitchier than you are when she’s angry.”

There’s really no arguing that point.

“...Excuse me.”

Odeya pivots to face the speaker, Seraphina peaking over her shoulder. A girl stands there, light brown curls framing her face, doe eyes fearful but kind. Something about the girl is distantly familiar, but Odeya can’t quite place it. The girl holds out a familiar red pouch to them. “I think one of you dropped this.”

“Oh, that’s mine!” Seraphina reaches around Odeya to grab the wallet. “Thank you so much! I didn’t even realize I dropped it.”

The girl blushes, connecting her fingers in front of her. “You’re welcome. Um, enjoy the show.” With another shy smile in their direction, she brushes past them, and Odeya is left with the sense that she’s missing something horribly important.

The sense is forgotten as the concert goes on. And she doesn’t want to admit it, but she has a lot more fun than she’d thought she would. The band’s music is actually really good, and Amos freaking Mendes opens up for them. She’s almost positive that much talent being in one room isn’t even legal, but she’s glad for it.

When it’s over, Seraphina insists they wait for the backstage meet and greet. “Ti-Ti paid extra for the tickets,” she whimpers, tugging on Odeya’s hand. “We can’t let that money go to waste. Please, pretend you like me for, like, two more hours.”

By the time the meet and greet actually starts, Seraphina has created two unicorn plushies, a hundred pennies, a goat, and a literal hurdle, just to trip people up. Odeya knows she shouldn’t encourage her to abuse her powers like this, but she’s bored and the stupefied expressions on peoples’ faces every time something appears in front of them are too good to pass up.

“Oh, here they come,” Seraphina gasps, while Odeya laughs breathlessly. “Shut up, oh my God, Odeya, pull yourself together. I am never taking you anywhere ever.”

The band -- and Amos, she notices -- approaches the group waiting backstage, bright -- probably fake -- smiles in place. She and Seraphina are at the very end, but she still tries to stifle her laughter. “This is going to take forever,” she gripes. “Can’t you make, like, a TV?”

“Stop abusing my powers,” Seraphina hisses. “It’s wrong.”

“No, the hurdle was wrong. Possibly the goat. Everything else was perfectly innocent. We even made that one little girl smile, remember?”

“That’s not the point.”

By the time the five boys make it to them, Odeya has convinced her friend to create another obnoxious plant, just to see if anyone will notice, and a life sized Amos cardboard cutout. Both turn out to be a bad idea, as people keep running into them. “You’re going to get us kicked out,” Seraphina giggles, swatting at her hand. “Oh my God, Odeya, stop. They’re actually coming this time! Stop laughing, oh my God.”

“It’s your magic,” Odeya laughs under her breath, looking away when the boys approach them.

“Hello, ladies,” the leader singer greets with a smile that Odeya can just tell is about to fall off. “Sorry for the wait.”

“It’s fine,” Seraphina assures them, yanking on Odeya’s hand to stop her giggling. “It’s totally fine. You guys were amazing.”

Odeya wants to agree -- she does, and she’s about to, but someone else walks into the cardboard cutout, and she damn near loses it. She isn’t usually this giggly, but she’s been so upset for so long, and she hasn’t had this much fun in ages. She’s never had an entire day where she didn’t know exactly what was going to happen and when. It was unsettling at first, but she doesn’t think she’s ever laughed this much before. She bites down on her lip to keep her laughter at bay, only nodding along to her friend’s words.

The singer looks over at her, gaze torn between confused and amused. “Are you alright, love?”

“I’m fine,” Odeya squeaks, then she clears her throat. “I’m fine, honest. That really was a great concert. I don’t think I’ve ever been to one as fun as this one.” Seraphina pokes her, and she obediently shuts up.

“That’s a relief,” the guitarist says. “I was starting to think the thing everyone enjoyed most was this dork.” He jabs his thumb at Amos.

“Oh, I’m a dork?” He gets a certain gleam in his eyes, and swings his arm back, to tap the guitarist, she assumes, but he misses completely and ends up hitting someone else.

It’s the girl from before.

Amos pales, and so does the rest of the band. “Oh, God,” Amos mutters, yanking his hand away. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Odeya sobers, noticing how worried he really is. His swing wasn’t hard enough to do more than just tap the girl, yet the fear in his voice would imply otherwise. “Miss?”

“I’m okay,” the girl reassures him, giving him a nervous smile. “I-I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t be back here, but I had to go to the bathroom, and my dad pointed me this way, and you.. don’t care.” She clears her throat, glancing to the ground insecurely. “I’m sorry, I...” She glances around the group. “I’m sorry.” She moves to continue on her way, when --

It hits Odeya like a brick to the stomach, leaving her winded and nauseous.

Her hand is clasped around the girl’s wrist before she even realizes what she’s doing. She hears Seraphina call her name, but she can’t take her eyes off of the girl. She has pretty eyes. “What’s your name,” she finds herself asking.

“Arlis,” the girl tells her, confusion laced in her tone. But she doesn’t seem scared or nervous; just confused. “Do... do I know you?”

“I can’t see you.”

“What?”

“Odeya,” Sera hisses again, pulling on her arm.

“You’re not hearing me, Sera.” She turns to her friend, giving her a meaningful look. “I can’t see her.”

She watches as the realization sets in, and Seraphina looks over at the girl, then to the band, then to Odeya. “Not here, okay? Not now.” She pulls Odeya away, and gives the pop stars a kind smile. Odeya feels horrible for ruining this for her; she was so excited when Titus bought her tickets to see her favorite band in concert. Odeya had never seen the sixteen year old so happy before. She’s been looking forward to this for months, and Odeya has managed to make it about her.

Even so, she can’t quite get over the fact that she has run into this girl twice -- no, three times, she remembers, thinking back to Athena’s birthday all those years ago -- and has yet to see her. It’s never happened with anyone else before, and she needs to know why this girl is so special.

“We’re sorry for this,” Seraphina says to the band and Amos. “We didn’t mean to waste your time. Thank you so much for everything.” She turns to Arlis. “Do you want to hang out with us? We can go and grab some fries or something.”

“Actually,” one of the band members -- and she honestly can’t remember who is who, at this point -- says, “you can use our green room. We don’t have anything else to do. And I think we have a few questions, too.”

Arlis looks between all of them in confusion and slight fear, but nods, regardless. Odeya exchanges glances with Seraphina, and they allow the boys to lead them down the stretch of hallway, towards a strand of rooms with various labels on them. She doesn’t know which door they enter through, and while the not knowing was fine twenty minutes ago, it terrifies her now. She clutches Seraphina’s hand tightly, and reminds herself to breathe.

The door shuts behind them, and Seraphina squeezes her hand.

“What...” Arlis squirms, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t... I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Why don’t we all sit down?” Seraphina suggests, playing a hand on Arlis’ arm. She isn’t the bossy type, but she tends to be the eye of the hurricane, Odeya knows. When the rest of the world is in chaos, she takes charge. “I just realized we never introduced ourselves. I’m Seraphina. This is my friend, Odeya. And you’re Arlis, right?”

She nods, no less confused, but slightly more comfortable.

“I’m River,” the lead singer says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you ladies.”

“I’m Gunner,” the drummer tells them.

“I’m Eros,” one of the guitarists -- who actually knows the difference? -- smiles.

“Apollo,” the other guitarist says, and Odeya and Seraphina lock gazes, both amazed. He has to meet Athena.

“And I’m Amos.” He hesitates. “Arlis, do you mind if I shake your hand?”

She tilts her head at him, but holds up her hand nonetheless. He shakes her hand slowly, watching her carefully. When he pulls away, he shakes his head at the band. In that instant, Odeya realizes three things.

One: Amos has a power. She doesn’t know what it is, but he definitely has one. The band knows about it, which means one or more of them probably have powers, as well. They were all expecting Arlis to be affected, but she wasn’t. Which means --

Two: Arlis is immune. She doesn’t know what the limits of that immunity are, but so far, she’s proven immune to Amos’ power, and to Odeya’s visions. And because of that...

Three: Seraphina had nothing to do with Odeya not foreseeing the entirety of today.

Athena thinks she’s insane. And, okay, Odeya can’t really blame her for that. Inviting six strangers -- five of them being pop stars -- to the club meeting might just be one of the worst things she’s ever done, especially considering she can’t see how it all plays out, but she knows it’s for the best. She needs to get to the bottom of this.

After everyone has filed in and introduced themselves -- and they were right, Apollo and Athena meet is undoubtedly the most wicked thing to ever take place -- they all settle in various positions around the room.

“We need to agree, right here, right now,” Athena demands, stepping up as the unofficial leader of their little brigade. She has a no-nonsense attitude that makes people obey her without question. Odeya has always admired that about her. “What’s said in this room stays in this room. If anyone else finds out, it’s because we all agreed that we can talk. Fair?” Everyone nods, seemingly of a similar mindset. “Arlis, how much do you know about... powers?”

“Powers?” The girl shakes her head. “Not... not much? I’ve heard of people having them, but I haven’t -- I’ve never met anyone with any. Do... do you have powers?”

Odeya looks to Seraphina again, contemplating what she should do. Seraphina nods, and Odeya breathes, easing Arlis into a seat next to her. “I can see the future,” she says bluntly. “Every night since I was a little kid, I’ve seen everything that happens. To me, and to everyone around me. I’ve never run into anyone I didn’t see beforehand. But I’ve run into you numerous times, and I -- Arlis, I can’t see you.”

The girl’s eyes widen, and she looks around the room, then back to Odeya. “What does that mean?”

“You’re the first person I’ve ever met that I couldn’t see. Just running into you makes my visions blank. I ran into you twice, and I didn’t predict anything after I got dressed that morning. Arlis, I think -- I think you’re immune.”

“I do, too,” Amos verbalizes. “I can freeze things when I touch them. If I’m not careful, I could give someone frostbite with just a touch. But I touched you twice, without holding back my power, and you didn’t get so much as a chill.”

“We could continue to do tests,” Titus brings up, leaning against the desk next to River. Odeya is only kind of certain he isn’t planning on flirting. (How do people live with this uncertainty?) “Half of us have powers that work on people. We could keep trying them on you, if you want, but I trust Odeya’s judgement.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Odeya sees Zane whisper something in Athena, only for the mind reader to shake her head.

Arlis is silent, trying to figure out what to do with the information she’s been given. “If... if I’m immune, does that mean I have a superpower, too?”

Everyone takes pause at that. “I honestly hadn’t thought of that,” Aubrey says. “But... I think so, yeah.”

“Okay.” Arlis nods, hesitantly then a bit more surely. “Okay. Can... can I ask what the rest of you do?”

Everyone enthusiastically fills her in. Eros, ironically, has the power to make people fall in love with each other, though he doesn’t explain how the power works exactly. She doubts it involves arrows. Gunner has the ability to age and de-age as he pleases. He tells them that he really is only seventeen, but he could be six, if he wanted to be. Apollo confesses that his power is more on the animation side of things; he can bring inanimate objects to life with just a touch.

When they get back to the subject of Amos’ power, Aubrey snorts. “I always thought ice powers were for people with cold hearts.”

“Like Athens, here,” Titus provides, receiving a well-deserved smack on the shoulder for that quip.

“I like my power,” Amos says, a smirk fighting its way onto his face. “It’s nice being the cool one. I mean--”

“Amos, no,” Gunner orders. “Amos, no.”

“I’m so cool, when I walk by, bitches get frost bite.”

It takes a long time to recover from that, and for a moment, she cherishes the surprise. When she sees the tears of laughter in Arlis’ eyes, she can’t help but be grateful.

Maybe not knowing everything isn’t so bad after all.

If Odeya thought Athena and Titus being friends was horrible, she wasn’t at all prepared for Amos to join them.

Between the three of them, there are so many bad puns and cocky remarks, Zane actually stops coming to club meetings for a week. Athena and Titus laugh every time Amos tells his frost bite joke -- which only gets worse with time -- and the boys actually treat Athena like she’s a deity, which only urges her to use her I’m actually the goddess of wisdom line at every given opportunity. Athena and Amos encourage Titus to make bets that they know he’ll win, just for the fun of messing with other people.

(By ‘other people’, she means Amos’ best friend, Forrest. There is nothing he loves more than messing with that boy.)

Aubrey is absolutely no help. When she isn’t flirting with Gunner, she’s egging the trio on. Once, she even convinces Titus to bet Athena that she can’t read his mind. Suffice to say, it ends horribly.

The only thing that seems to calm Titus down is River, who he has the most upsetting crush on. What’s upsetting about it is that they’re crushing on each other, and instead of being awkward and humiliating like most normal people, the two are irritatingly cool about it. They don’t stumble over their words, nor do they try to deny their feelings. They flirt casually and relentlessly, occasionally hiding annoyingly attractive grins.

Odeya isn’t sure she doesn’t hate them.

Seraphina and Eros are a lot dorkier in their mutual crushing. They blush every time they speak, and anything cool that comes out of their mouths is completely incidental. She promises to dance for him, and he plays the guitar for her. Odeya walks in on him singing to her once, and record it. She saves it for rainy days, when she runs out of cat videos, and gets tired of re-watching Daddy Day Care.

Zane finds a human boyfriend. He’s apprehensive at first, too afraid of harming Atticus, but Aubrey talks him into going for it. “We can’t be single and unhappy forever,” she points out to the whole group. “And we can’t all date within the group. We know our limits, and we know what not to do. It’s okay to date someone. It’s okay to be happy.”

It’s okay to be happy. The words float around Odeya’s mind for a while, and she can’t stop herself from glancing over at Arlis. Feeling her eyes on her, Arlis --

(”You’re like our own personal Bella Swan,” Eros once teased.

“Dude,” Simon gaped, staring at the boy in horror. “Don’t be rude.”)

-- glances over, and a small, serene smile comes onto her lips. She nods minutely, and Odeya can hear her thoughts without needing Athena’s power. You can be happy, too, her gaze says. You deserve to be happy.

Odeya returns the smile, and pretends her heart isn’t beating a bit faster.

When the trailer for Frozen comes out, Odeya and Arlis spend fifteen minutes laughing and trying to catch their breath. She cannot wait to see Amos on Monday.

No sooner than the thought enters her mind does her phone buzz, a mass text arriving from Amos.

( elsa, 11:15 pm ) hoes don’t do it

( you, 11:16 pm ) L O L

She adds a crying emoji, just to piss him off a bit more.

Two months into senior year, she gets a text from Seraphina:

( dancing queen, 10:17 am ) you need to get to the club room ( dancing queen, 10:17 am ) now

When she gets there, everyone else is already gathered. They glance anxiously at one another, and it takes Odeya a moment to realize there’s a stranger in the room. She’s a freshman, it looks like. She’s much smaller than the rest of them, and she shirks away from any possibility of physical contact. She has long dark hair, and tanned skin, hinting at at least some form of Hispanic heritage. Odeya has never seen her before, but the girl looks at her with wide eyed recognition.

“What’s going on?” Odeya glances at the girl, then at Athena. Who is this?

“Odeya, this is Savannah Hudson,” River answers, walking over to her. “She’s one of us.”

Odeya blinks, and wonders why she hadn’t realized that before. Why else would she be here. “Oh. What can she do?”

“That’s the thing,” Arlis says, laying a hand on Odeya’s arm. “She...” She looks over to Savannah, giving her an encouraging nod.

Savannah glances between the girls, before settling on Odeya. “I can see the future.”

---Wait, what?

“But only kind of,” Savannah scrambles on. “I -- when I touch people, I... I see how they die.”

“Oh.” Oh. Odeya swallows the unpleasant feeling rising within her. This is the closest anyone has ever gotten to her power,, and it somehow manages to be worse. She doesn’t know how she feels about it. “Everyone?”

Savannah nods sadly. “I’ve seen how my parents are going to die, and how my siblings are going to die. It’s why I wear gloves.” She holds up a hand, and Odeya finally notices the leather gloves coating her fingers. “If I don’t make direct contact, I don’t see anything. But I...”

“She touched me,” Titus continues for her, his voice blank and, quite frankly, worrying. “And she saw you.”

...Holy shit.

“Yeah,” Athena mutters. “Pretty much.”

Odeya dreams this conversation three times before Phoebe even calls her.

The fourth time, she sees Phoebe hang herself, and promptly empties her breakfast into the toilet in her grandparents’ bathroom. Her grandmother tries to get her to take some flu medicine, but Phoebe declines. She wants more than anything to tell her grandmother that her sickness has nothing to do with her health, but she knows it’ll be useless. She’s tried telling her grandparents, several times, and they refuse to believe her.

She’s given up hope of convincing them.

To placate them, she nibbles on saltines until they’re satisfied. Once she’s cleaned up and doesn’t smell like puke breath, she pulls on her clothes and goes to meet Phoebe.

The brunette is seated under a tree outside of the school, staring out at the baseball field. There are dried tear stains on her cheeks, and Odeya feels nauseous again. She has to play this correctly, or she loses Phoebe permanently.

She places a water bottle and granola bar in her friend’s lap, and takes a seat next to her. She tucks her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she waits for the other to speak.

“How do you do it,” Phoebe asks after a while, her voice scratchy and quiet. She continues to stare at the empty field, taking shallow breaths. “How do you... how do you deal with living in the present, when you already know how the future plays out?”

Loaded question. “I don’t,” she answers honestly. She knows she has to be careful with this, but she won’t lie to Phoebe. Not about this. “When you’ve seen the future play out in every possible way, it’s easy to lose interest in the present. What happens now doesn’t always matter when you can see the bigger picture.”

Phoebe’s eyes -- red and empty -- move to Odeya, and the seer swallows thickly. “But?”

“But it isn’t always that bad.” Odeya shifts, spreading her legs out. “The future can change, Phoebe. It doesn’t always turn out the way that I see it. It isn’t set in stone. And sometimes experiencing it in the moment is better than just seeing it.”

Tears well up in Phoebe’s eyes, and this is the part where everything Odeya says is crucial. “I’ve lived this week,” Phoebe says, voice thick with repressed tears. “Eight times. I’ve seen everything that could possibly happen, Odeya, I...” She looks away again, throat clogging up and tears running down her face.

Odeya quietly contemplates her next words. “I won’t ask you what happens,” she promises, because she knows what that’s like, and she’s sworn never to do it to anyone else. “But does anything... major happen?”

A slight nod.

“Is there any way to prevent it?”

“I don’t know. I--” She swipes tears off her face. “I’ve tried everything, and I just can’t -- I can’t stop it. I’ve seen it eight times, and I can’t do anything.”

Odeya hasn’t seen this. She’s purposely deviated from all of ways she’s seen this play out. It’s the only way this can work. “Have you tried... telling about it?”

Phoebe nods shakily. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried stopping it, I’ve tried being on the receiving end of it, I’ve tried... Deya, I’ve tried everything. And I’ve still... you’ve still...”

“...Me?”

The emotion drains from Phoebe’s face, bleeds into something more neutral and horrifying. “You die. Every time I relive this week, you die.”

The air is sucked from Odeya’s lungs, and the world tilts on its axes. She hasn’t seen that. She dreamed her death once, when she was a little girl, but not since then. She doesn’t even remember it. If she’s supposed to die in the next week, why hasn’t she seen it? “...Oh.”

“Your... your visions kill you,” Phoebe babbles, pain and devastation in her tone. “You -- you start having them during the day, and once you do, you can’t stop. You can’t see anything in the present, because you’re stuck in the future. And you’re -- you’re having these visions, and you hit your head. You hit your head, and you crack your skull on the ground. You -- you bleed out before we can get to you.

“And after you die-- after you die, everything goes wrong. Grief -- grief messes with our powers, and it messes with our heads. Athena can’t stay in her own head, no matter how much she tries. She can’t stop reading people’s minds, even when she’s asleep, and it almost kills her, it hurts so much. Seraphina’s powers go awry, and everything she things of forms in front of her, and just a look from Apollo makes them all come to life. They turn into monsters, and Sera is terrified, and every fear creates another monster. Amos, Amos kills someone, because he brushes into her. Titus makes a gamble for his life, your life for his, and he loses, Odeya, and you both die, you die and I can’t -- Odeya, I can’t see that again. River -- River, he goes postal, he--”

“Pheebs, stop,” Odeya softly begs, pulling the girl into a crushing hug. It doesn’t sound much like the girl could go on if she’d wanted. She’s gasped through half of the words, panic-induced hyperventilation setting in. Savannah’s vision of Titus pops into her mind, and it suddenly makes a little more sense. “Phoebe, breathe. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not,” Phoebe cries, sobbing into Odeya’s arm. “It’s not.”

“Yes, it is. You know why?” Odeya pulls away from the embrace, looking her friend in the eyes. “We’re going to break this cycle. When does it start? When do I... die?”

“Tomorrow night. Odeya, I told you, I’ve tried everything.”

“Maybe you have. But I haven’t.” She wipes the tears from Phoebe’s eyes. “In any of the eight times you’ve gone back, did you see this? This conversation, exactly?”

After a moment of contemplation, Phoebe shakes her head.

Odeya smiles, though she feels sick to her stomach. “See? The story is already changing. The future changes just that easily.” She squeezes Phoebe’s hands, hesitating before she asks, “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Phoebe shrugs.

“When you go back in time... do you mean to?”

Phoebe is silent. Then: “I don’t know.”

“You... don’t know?” How is that possible?

“I only go back in time when I’m dying.”

Don’t throw up, Odeya. Don’t do it. “I... you didn’t tell me you died, too.”

“It’s never happened. I go back in time right before I do.” She blinks, tears falling from her eyes anew. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. River kills me.”

#oocdrabbles

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