C. Omololu - Intuition

He looks confused. “But it’s dangerous, you saw that. And you’re not obligated to help them anymore.”

I can tell this conversation isn’t going my way. “Well, I’m still going to see Janine.”

“Fine,” he says, but I can tell he doesn’t really agree. “But I don’t want you doing any more dangerous assignments.” He kisses me. “I need you here, in one piece.” Drew sits back on the couch and I lean against his arm. “I told Sandoval I’m buying the boat,” he says. “So I think we should run away to an island somewhere until you turn eighteen. You won’t have to do anything except lie in the sun and swim in the water, surrounded by tropical fish.”

I snort. “Sure. That would be great, but what about school? I’m going to be a senior this year. I have to finish.”

“Quit!” Drew’s eyes light up. “Just bail on all of it! Why do you need to finish?” He looks like he really doesn’t understand the concept. “Don’t you get it? From now on, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I have more money than we can spend in a lifetime. A high-school diploma isn’t going to give you anything I can’t.” I can tell he’s getting excited about the possibilities. “Anywhere you want to go. Europe, the South Pacific . . . maybe Thailand. I’ll do a little bit of work here and there, but the rest of the time we can just hang out together playing duets and watching the sun set.”

“But what about my family? The studio?”

“Once they see that you’re fine, they’ll forgive us. Parents always do.” Drew lifts my left hand and kisses the scar that runs down the length of my forearm. “I’ll buy you your own studio,” he says. “I’ll stock it with the finest instruments in the world. You can teach, you can perform, you can even tour if you want. You won’t have to work for a thing.”

I look at Drew’s face and see the excitement in his eyes, the smile on his perfect face. His life is full of possibilities, of people who never say no to him. He quit school at sixteen and never looked back. He’s sitting here, offering me the world, saying things that any girl would kill to hear. So why do they just make me uncomfortable?

“What’s the point?” I sit up on the edge of the couch, pulling my sweater tighter around me. I feel myself walking to the edge of something, dipping my toe off the cliff to see if there’s anything there that will support me. “What’s the point of being alive if you’re not working toward something?”

“But you will be,” he says quietly. “We’ll both be working toward creating a family. The family that was cut short the last time.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to have kids right away.”

“Not right away,” he laughs. “But I don’t want to wait too long. All you talked about last time was how you wanted to have babies. Our babies.”

I look at Drew and see that he’s already got it all planned out. Just like last time. “I’m not that girl anymore,” I say quietly but firmly. “I’m Cole.”

Drew’s mouth sets in a hard line, but his eyes soften as he looks at me. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But you did! You’ve said it over and over. You want me to go right back to that lifetime.” I take a deep breath, forcing myself not to cry. “But I’m not Allison anymore. I can’t be that for you, wearing beautiful dresses that you buy for me and staying home having babies.” The last words come out in a whisper. “That’s not what I want this time.”

“This is crazy,” Drew says, sitting up next to me, one hand on my knee. “I don’t know what kind of bullshit Janine’s been feeding you, but—”

“It’s not Janine,” I say to Drew. “It’s me. I have my own dreams, things I want to do. And I can make my own decisions.” As I say it, I realize it’s time that I do. We both want all of me, and only one of us can win. I reach up behind my neck and unclasp the ankh. I fold it into my hand one last time, feeling its warmth, keenly aware of the connection between its past and my present. In one motion I pull the earrings off as well and place them all in Drew’s palm, closing his fingers around them. With that one gesture, I make a statement that propels me forward. I take a single breath, drawing air deeper into my lungs than I’ve been able to in days.

“Don’t do this,” he says, shaking his head. “Don’t do this to me. To us.” He lifts his hand and I flinch, but his fingers barely brush my cheek. “This is our destiny. We were meant for each other. We always have been. You can’t do this.”

“I have to,” I say. Drew’s beautiful blue eyes look suddenly panicked, and I realize that what’s right is usually what’s most difficult. “Maybe we were meant for each other once, but you deserve better than I can give you. There’s someone else out there who can give you what you need.”

Drew looks down momentarily and then lifts his eyes to mine. “As long as your essence is walking this earth, there is nobody else for me.”

The weight of his words hits me full force, but as hard as this is, I can’t make my decisions for him. I have to make them for me. “I’m so sorry. I can’t be the person you need me to be.”

He looks like he’s about to cry, and I see the muscles in his jaw working. “This isn’t over,” he says. “As long as I’m still breathing, this isn’t over.” He reaches for me again, but I’m already gathering my shoes and my bag. I can’t look at him, so I keep my eyes on the floor until I hear his footsteps in the hallway and his bedroom door slam.

I’m waiting for the elevator when the full weight of what I’ve just done washes over me. I had everything at the tips of my fingers—a gorgeous guy, more money than I could ever spend, a lifestyle most people can only dream about—and I just threw it all away. For what?

The last notes echo through the music hall as I look over and give all of my students a big smile. I lean over and whisper, “Now everyone stand up and take a bow.”

They all bend awkwardly at the sound of the applause, Zander bowing deepest with a toss of his head that irritates me. The lights go up and everyone begins to pack up their instruments as their parents gather at the front of the stage.

Olivia Miller walks over holding a small pink box wrapped in a ribbon. She hands it to me. “My mom made this for you,” she says. “To say thanks.”

I open it to see a tiny cake with a cello piped in frosting on the top. I put one finger in and take a taste. Lemon, my favorite. I give Olivia a hug. “Tell your mom thanks for me. And no practicing until Monday. That’s an order.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says with a grin as she runs off.

I turn back to my music stand as Herr Steinberg walks up. “That was wonderful,” he says, looking stiff and formal in the suit he always wears to recitals. This place isn’t as big or as fancy as the concert hall at the Conservatory, but I love him for always taking every recital seriously.

I stand up, lifting my case upright. “They were,” I say. “I’m really proud of how well everyone did.”

“Your students were great,” he agrees. “But I was talking about you. You had total command over the instrument today. It’s almost impossible to believe that only a few months ago, we thought you might never play again.”

“It was okay,” I concede. “But not like before.”

“Not like before yet,” Herr Steinberg adds. “I’m serious. If you keep moving forward like you’ve been doing, your future as a cellist is wide open. I’m not going to say it will be easy, but with a lot of hard work and a little luck, you will be able to do whatever you dream of.” He watches me intently. “Do you know what it is you’re dreaming of?”

I look down and fiddle with the latch on the cello case. Being a cellist is all I ever thought about doing, but now things are different. My Akhet skills and knowledge are growing every day, and things that I never thought about doing before suddenly seem like they could be within reach. “I’m not sure anymore.”

“Well, I hope you’ll keep working with me at the studio,” he says. “I know you’ll have to cut back on your hours when school starts next week, but you have a job here as long as you want it.”

“Thanks. I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

“Excellent news.” Steinberg puts his arm around my shoulders and gives me a hug.

Dad pops his head around the curtain. “Need help carrying anything?”

“You can grab my bag if you want,” I say, hauling the strap for the cello over my shoulder.

“Got it.” He bends over and kisses me on the forehead. “That was wonderful, honey. Don’t tell your mom I said so, but she went through more than one tissue during your performance.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you guys came.”

“You couldn’t have kept us away.” He holds up his phone. “Kat asked me to record it for her. She’s sorry she’s not here.”

I stare at him. This is the first mention I’ve heard of Kat since she left. “Thanks.”

We walk out into the main hall, where Rayne and her mom are waiting for me. Even though her memories are still brief and scattered, I’ve had her meet with Janine a few times to help her adjust to her new Akhet life. For as much as Veronique succeeded in opening up her memories, she got one thing wrong—Rayne was never Alessandra. The two of us have tried and failed to make that connection. “This is for you,” Rayne says, shoving a bamboo plant into my hands with a grin.

“Thanks,” I say. “Just what I needed. Way too many people bring flowers to these things.”

“You and your students were wonderful, Cole,” her mom says.

“Thanks.”

Rayne leans in toward me. “Don’t know if you saw him, but Drew was sitting way in the back of the room near the door. The second you were done playing he practically raced out of here.”