“I’m impressed,” he says after I tell him the truth.
“With what?” Being underage, living in an apartment with the only family I have left?
“With your idea that a museum can be inspiring.”
I snort—and try not to be embarrassed about it. “Inspiration can be found anywhere. But especially within other forms of art. Gardens, architecture, libraries.”
“Libraries, huh?”
“Of course.” I shrug, turning as if there’s something to see besides the two-story apartments and the mediocre shrubbery. The more I stare at his face, the quicker my heart pounds with the thought of what I know will happen.
“I never thought of that,” he says.
“Maybe you should give it a try. I work at the library a few blocks over. If you come in when I’m working, I could show you a few things.” There, that sounded less like a girl with rusty flirting techniques. As Olivia might say, be obvious without sounding desperate. I think I managed that. And for a bonus, I’ll get more information from Griffin if I persuade him to fill out a library card application.
“Sounds like an offer I shouldn’t pass up. When do you work next?”
Holy crap, did my attempt at subtlety actually work? “Tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday. Pretty much all day.”
Griffin taps a finger against the side of his head. “Well noted.” Then he clears his throat and says, “I hope my playing wasn’t bothering you?” He motions behind him at the guitar.
“No, it wasn’t. I just heard it and…”
As I trail off, he smirks devilishly. “And wanted a closer look?”
My blood warms, because he’s sort of right. “Hey, I was curious and wanted to hear more.” Curious doesn’t even begin to describe it.
He moves closer—one foot away now. “So?”
“So what?”
Griffin shrugs casually, briefly glancing to the right. “So was it terrible?”
“Your music? No. It was…you can really play.”
He drops his arms, smiling like my compliment was the first one he’d heard in a long time. “Looks like all those years of practice have worked in my favor.”
My words were an understatement. The music was haunting and beautiful, and I’d be more than okay listening to him play for hours.
I clench my fists then unclench them, trying not to give my thoughts away. The thoughts that say Griffin is going to be shot and killed. Why? Hell if I know. When? Don’t know that, either. But it will happen.
I try not to think about the part in my vision where he says he loves me…but that will happen, too. Right? I mean, it has to. Why do I find that part so hard to believe? Probably because I don’t really know this guy yet, and for the past three years, I’ve lived by one rule: I do not, under any circumstances, date. Love has wrecked me time and time again. Love is clearly not in the cards for me.
But it is now, a tiny voice in the back of my heart whispers, taunting me. I’ve never been loved before, not the way Griffin clearly loves me in the end. The voice might be right, but I do my best not to listen, because no matter how badly I want to believe it…there’s no happy ending waiting for us. I can’t let myself forget that.
My brain is firing on too many cylinders, and there’s a 50 percent chance I’ll start hyperventilating. The words are on the tip of my tongue. The need to warn him. Tell him about what’s to come.
But I can’t. Grandma was right. No one would know how to accept that kind of news. Besides, what would I say? Oh, by the way…I have this weird gift or curse or whatever the hell you want to call it, and I can see the end for you—for us. And you’re going to fall in love with me before you die. Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well. He’ll shuffle backward like I’m a contagious disease and never talk to me again.
Maybe that would be a good thing.
Maybe, if it would stop the vision from coming true.
But even if I could ignore him, keep my distance, and somehow convince him not to fall in love with me…he’ll still die. Likely alone in the muddy grass, under the pounding rain. He’ll bleed out, with or without me.
Pull it together, Quinn. Act natural. “So you just moved to Dayton?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just moved to Ohio, actually.”
“From where?”
“Arizona.”
“Why would you pick Ohio? I would give anything to live in a different state.” Especially one like Arizona, where the weather isn’t humid or erratic. I’ve had to use the air conditioning and the heater within the same twenty-four hours before. Plus, the mountains out west? That so beats the plain rolling hills of nothingness here.
Griffin clears his throat, tips his head like he needs to think about the answer before he tells me. “I needed to move somewhere different. Somewhere far away.”
I laugh a little, unsure why he’s hesitant to explain. “Why far away?”
“For a new start.”
What is he running from? “But Ohio? You could’ve picked North Carolina or Florida. Hell, even Washington. Why here?”
He shrugs. “Would you believe me if I told you I put all fifty states in a hat and picked one out?”
I furrow my brows. “Why would you do that?”
“It’s a long story,” Griffin says. “The moving thing.”
I bite my lip and nod, then offer a small smile.
I’m about to ask for the story anyway when he says, “It’s late. I should probably head back inside.”
“Of course.” I plaster my hands against my sides and smile, despite my internal anguish.
He twists his lips, cocks his head, and opens his mouth to say something.
I cut him off because I’m not sure how much longer I can keep my calm. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon. Especially if you come visit me at the library.”
“Sure,” he says after I turn my back to him. “Seeing how we’re neighbors, another impromptu meeting can’t be avoided.”
He’s right. It is fate, even if it is a horrifying fate. Most people believe in free will. That our futures aren’t predetermined. That we aren’t puppets.
But my…curse proves that theory wrong time and time again. I’ve been able to stop the future from happening to me, but never altogether.
I’ll see Griffin again. And again. And again. Until time runs out and my devastating vision comes true. Unless I manage to save him. No matter what Grandma Ruth thinks, there’s no way in hell I’m letting the vision go down without a fight.