I was filling the cherry container when Chay grabbed my wrist. Two cherries dangled by their stems between my fingertips. He looked in my eyes as he guided my hand to his mouth. He ate the cherries one by one, his soft, full lips brushing against the tips of my fingers, eyes, more green than blue just then, locked on mine.
My wrist burned where he touched it. My eyes were transfixed on him, his mouth, his lips, his tongue. I parted my lips and tried to remember how to breathe normally. Time seemed to slow, and the blood in my veins turned to molten lava. As it made its way languidly through my body, it seared me, burned me from the inside out with an exquisite pain that only his touch could quench.
My heart screamed with pleasure when he reached around my waist and pulled me to him. “Oh,” I gasped. I dropped the cherry stems on the floor and put my hand on his shoulder, stifling a moan at the definition I felt there.
“I just swept that floor,” he murmured with a crooked grin.
I looked down at the floor. “Sorry, I’ll—”
“Milayna.” I looked up at him. His eyes darkened. His hand let go of my wrist and skimmed up my arm and around the back of my neck, gently nudging my head toward him. My lips parted, and I leaned into him. He dipped his head… and I screamed.
I dropped my hands and held my head. The pain was searing. I heard Chay’s uncle run into the truck. He took one look at me and closed the doors and windows.
“She has visions?”
“Yes,” Chay answered. His arms tightened around me. He sounded so far away, the sounds in my head drowning him out.
Football field. Concession stand. Orange rope.
“What do you see, Milayna?” Chay’s voice.
“A concession stand. An orange rope.”
A woman wearing a blue apron. Picking up the rope. No, not a rope. An extension cord.
“It’s an extension cord.” My vision cleared, and I whirled around to the window and tried to unfasten the locks. “How do I open it?” I yelled. Chay reached over, unlatching the window, and I peered out. My gaze searched the growing crowd for the concession stand and the blue-aproned woman in my vision.
A force jerked me backward and slammed me against the back of the truck. I squeezed my eyes closed and watched the vision scroll through my consciousness.
Black rope. No, another extension cord. The wires are exposed. Water.
“She’s going to electrocute herself! We have to find her.” I ran to the door. “Go that way, and I’ll go there. Blue apron and blonde hair in a black hairnet. She’ll be behind a concession stand. Go! Go now!”
I turned when Chay grabbed my arm. “You can’t go by yourself, Milayna.”
I jerked free of his grasp. “This is what I’m supposed to do,” I yelled. “This is why I am what I am! I can’t stand by and let her get hurt… or worse.” I jumped down from the truck and ran into the growing crowd before he could stop me.
“Show the stand. What does the concession stand look like? Show me something to help me find her!” I mumbled to myself, begging the vision to give me more information. There were so many people and it seemed like the crowd was growing by the second, swallowing me. Keeping me from my purpose.
I looked for the woman’s concession stand, but I didn’t have any distinguishing landmarks to use to help me find it. And there were so many little stands set up that it was a never-ending maze. It was the biggest game of the season next to homecoming. Little buildings and trailers filled the space, selling everything from sweets to foam fingers.
I ran between the vendors, looking left and right for a woman in a blue apron. I was out of breath, struggling to breathe from running and the thought of not finding the woman in time. My lungs burned, and my stomach clenched like someone was wringing it out like a wet dishrag. I doubled over and rested my hands on my knees.
She’s picking up the cord.
I ran around a small cotton candy stand and came face-to-face with the woman, the orange extension cord in her hand.
“Hi,” I panted. I motioned for her to wait a second while I caught my breath. My foot ground the end of the black cord into the dirt, filling the receptacle end with enough dirt to make it unusable. “I’m sorry. I’m so out of breath. I ran over here. My brother is crying for some cotton candy. Are you open?”
“No, sorry. I haven’t gotten the machine hooked up yet. But if you come back in about ten minutes, I should have some ready.”
“Oh, okay. No problem.” With one final twist of my foot, I stepped away. The vision cleared, and the excruciating pain in my stomach eased.
“Darn it,” I heard her say over my shoulder. “I need another cord,” she yelled to someone in the small building.
I smiled. It felt good to help. The feeling was indescribable. I was still smiling when Chay found me and grabbed me by the arm, yanking me toward his uncle’s ice cream truck. I tried to jerk my arm free, and he tightened his grip.
“Let go,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” I jerked my arm again, but his grip was too tight. His fingers dug into me.
“I’m not letting go until you’re safely in the ice cream truck. You seem to have a problem with running into crowds alone.” Chay’s tone was flat, emotionless.