Foresight

Chapter 8

Mike finished recounting what his grandma had told him about his grandfather's death on Saturday. Connor looked at Mike with sympathy written all over his face. "So, when Gregson said that thing about you taking your grandpa's walking stick to prom..." Connor realised.

"Made my blood boil," Mike confirmed. They were both sitting next to each other at their desks in their homeroom. Their tutor had given out the announcements and everyone around them was having their own conversations.

"I'm sorry to hear that, man – your grandpa was such a cool guy," Connor said, trying to be comforting. Mike smiled at him and nodded.

"Yeah, he was," Mike said somewhat distantly. "But then again, he'd had a good life and at least he died peacefully – unlike so many people out there who are dying in pain," he said, trying to comfort himself. Connor put his hand on Mike's shoulder.

"Mike are you sure you're gonna be okay today? I mean you still seem pretty emotionally raw," Connor asked with concern. Mike looked up at him and nodded.

"Yeah – I can't just give up and mope – I am sad and angry but wallowing isn't gonna help that – I gotta keep moving forward," Mike replied, his mouth smiling but his eyes holding back tears and voice cracking, repressing a sob. Connor nodded and him and smiled.

"Alright pal – but if you can, try not to get on Gregson's bad side – I know he's all talk but the last thing you want is him on your back – especially with everything going on," Connor said. The school bell rang for the first lesson of the day, both Mike and Connor got up, left their Home Room and headed for the English class. In the hallway Mike passed Stacey Palmer –a girl in his theatre class. She was a bit shorter than Mike and absolutely stunning: she had tanned skin, brown eyes and long black hair which was always done up in a plat. Her dress sense was impeccable too, today she was wearing a galaxy pattern jacket, white jeans and blue shirt that had the Apple logo on it – she was nerdy but somehow none of the morons of the school could find a way to insult her – a quality Mike envied about her.

"Morning Stacey," he said, waving before he could stop himself. She looked at him and smiled.

"Morning Mike," she returned, smiling at him warmly before heading off in the opposite direction. Mike starred at her with admiration. Always pleasant. Never rude. But never for him. Connor nudged him and winked.

"Think you've found your date there pal!" he said playfully. Mike laughed with disbelief.

"Please – I think that's setting my sights too high!" Mike returned, that awful feeling in his gut which told him he believed it.

"Hardly! She's pretty, she's polite, she knows you exist and she always says hi to you," Connor replied. Mike looked away awkwardly.

"I've never even talked to her properly," he muttered. Connor rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"So, start to!" He said, "what have you got to lose?".

"What if I slip up?" Mike asked. But whatever Connor replied with, Mike didn't hear. Mike's ears began to ring and his eyes shut.

This time he saw Stacey, with her lunch tray in the cafeteria, walking to her seat. She didn't notice the spilled drink on the floor. She slipped backwards, catapulting her lunch in the air. It came crashing down on her, covering her in pasta and bolognaise sauce. Everyone around her started laughing.

"Mike?" Connor's voice sounded like a distant echo.

Mike opened his eyes to see that he had stopped right as they got to their classroom door. Connor was looking at him weirdly. "Sorry! I'm just feeling a bit um...." Mike began. He trailed off when he realised he had no excuse this time. Connor however didn't question him. He just shrugged.

"Okay pal – you coming in?" Connor asked, gesturing to the classroom.

"Yeah, sure," Mike replied, following his friend into their class. As he sat down at his desk he began wondering. If he helped Stacey avoid that, would she go to prom with him? No, but it may be one step towards getting her to go to prom with him. Would that be wrong? Some kind of selfish gain? Mike sat there for a few moments in thought. He was brought back to the present when his English teacher came crashing through the door.

"Sorry I'm late everyone!" Mr Eames panted, as though he'd ran a mile. "But if you'd all like to turn your books to page thirty-three, I think we'll get on with analysing Shakespeare's use of language and what it infers about the characters,". Most of the students in the class groaned. Not Mike. He loved this sort of thing. There were always a million different things you could infer from one sentence and Mike revelled in the thrill of it all. Eagerly, he got his book out of his bag and flipped the pages to page thirty-three. Mr Eames began waffling on about where they had left off while Mike read ahead of everyone else, scanning the page for different interpretations. And then it hit him. If he were to help Stacey, it wouldn't be selfish if he didn't go in thinking that way. All he was doing was acting upon a vision to prevent a girl from suffering social embarrassment. Nothing wrong with that. Mike smiled to himself. He was really liking his new powers. No matter how weird they were.