C. Omololu - Intuition

“You wanted to know what we were doing today,” Rayne says, swinging Peter’s arm back and forth. “This is what we’re doing.” I can tell from the edge in her voice that she’s still a little bit mad at me.

“But reggae?” I wave my hand in front of my face to try to get rid of some of the pot smoke that’s hanging in the air. After all the Veronique nonsense from yesterday, I’m glad to see her with Peter again. It took most of the day, but I finally managed to convince her that Veronique is full of crap. At least I think I did. Rayne is such a hopeless romantic that I can never be entirely sure. I’m just going to have to keep a close eye on her from now on.

“This is what’s going on in the park today. Besides, it’s free and it’s a nice day, so stop complaining.” Rayne rubs her arm and winces.

I glance down at her skin. “What’s wrong? You’re all red.”

“I don’t know,” she says, looking at her arms. They’re both a bright pink color. “I must have gotten sunburned without realizing it. It really hurts.”

I look closely at her face. “Your cheeks are red too.” I put one hand up to her forehead. “You feel hot. Are you getting sick?”

“I don’t think so,” she says. “But I do have a little headache.”

“I have some Advil,” I say, fishing around in my bag.

“It’s okay,” Rayne says. She puts her finger and her thumb on either side of her other hand and presses down. “I’ll just do some acupressure. That should work.”

I sigh. Rayne always wants to go the holistic route. “If you say so.”

Peter puts one arm around her shoulders and I trudge along a few feet behind them. My phone buzzes, so I pull it out to glance at the number. I realize I’m smiling as I open up Drew’s text.

What r u doing?

I text him back. At a reggae fest in the park.

No, seriously. Where r u?

Seriously. GGPark. With Rayne and her BF.

Drum circles and hacky sack?

I laugh out loud, and Rayne looks back at me. You must be a regular.

I rule at hacky sack.

Don’t know if I would brag about that.

“Who is it?” Rayne asks.

I glance over at Peter. He still talks to Griffon. “Nobody.”

You should know by now that I have many talents.

There’s a pause for a few moments. And then he texts again. I had fun on Friday.

I hesitate, not wanting to encourage something I can’t finish. Me too.

Do it again soon?

I glance up and realize we’ve stopped walking. Peter is nodding his head to the music from a band that’s on the stage, and Rayne is just looking at me. Maybe. GTG.

I slide the phone back in my pocket as we wander around the park looking at the booths full of tie-dye and pipes that are to be used for legal tobacco products only, if the signs posted are any indication.

We start down the hill toward another part of the festival with Peter leading the way, past the merry-go-round and through the playground back to the meadow. I look over and involuntarily glance up at the top of the cement slide that’s carved into the side of the hill. At the top of the slide was where my life changed forever—where Griffon first told me about being Ahket.

Rayne untangles her arm from Peter’s and reaches into her bag, catching my eye as I watch her. “Maybe . . . maybe that Advil . . . ,” she says, but her words sound thick and heavy. I lean over and look at her carefully. Her face is flushed, and I can see through her sunglasses that she’s squinting her eyes as if the light is hurting them. I start to say something to her about seeing a doctor when her bag slips off her shoulder. As she bends down to pick it up, she stumbles slightly, her body weaving as she tries to stand up straight.

“Rayne?” I say, taking a step toward her. “Are you okay?”

With immense effort, she turns to look at me, one hand pressing against her forehead. “I don’t—” she begins, but her knees buckle and in an instant she’s lying in a heap on the grass.

Peter drops to the ground beside her, cradling her head in his lap. “Rayne!” he calls. He rubs her cheek, but she just turns her head and moans, eyes shut tight and her jaw clenched against the pain.

“I’ll call 911!” I shout, watching her motionless on the ground. I fumble in my pocket for my phone.

“There are some paramedics in the parking lot,” a guy next to us says. “I’ll go get them. It’ll be faster.”

People around us start noticing Rayne on the ground and push back to give us some space. I kneel down by her head, not having a clue what to do.

“Come on, Rayne,” Peter says. “You’ll be okay. Just hang on, you’ll be okay.” He repeats that over and over again like a chant as he holds her hand, one thumb rubbing her fingers. “You’ll be okay.”

It seems like forever, but finally two men in uniform push through the crowd carrying big medical boxes. “Out of the way!” they shout. “Give us room.” They bend down, feeling for her pulse and checking her eyes. “Who’s with this girl?” the blond one asks.

“We are,” Peter says. “Is she going to be okay?”

The other guy speaks into a radio that’s hanging at his shoulder, calling for the ambulance.

“What’s she on?” he asks. “What did she take?”

I stare at him. They think she OD’d. “Nothing! She didn’t take anything!”

He glances over and I know that he doesn’t believe me. “Her pupils are huge. The best way to help your friend is to tell us what she took.”

I lean in closer to him. “I’m telling you, she didn’t take anything! Do something! Don’t just sit there!”

Peter puts his arm around me, as much to hold me back as for comfort, I imagine. “Cole’s right. One second she was fine, the next she was on the ground.”

I glance from him to the paramedic, who nods, although I still don’t know if he believes us. I take a deep breath and try to calm down. “She said she had a headache,” I say, “and she was really hot.”

He reaches for a syringe just as Rayne’s eyes roll into the back of her head. Her fists clench and her legs jerk as her body arches up in a tremor. “She’s posturing!” he shouts to the other guy. “Where’s that ambulance? We need to get her out of here now!”

We stand there watching helplessly as waves of convulsions take over her body until they load her into the ambulance, slamming the doors as they speed out of the park.

We call Rayne’s mom on the way to the car, and by the time we get to the hospital she’s standing in the waiting room, looking lost. Her eyes are red and frantic, so I walk over and give her a hug. She holds me tight, and I know she’s giving me what she’d rather be giving Rayne right now. “They asked me to leave the room,” she says. “They’re going to have to intubate her, and they don’t want me in there.” She looks at me and tears well up in her eyes. “She’s not even breathing on her own. What happened?”

I squeeze her hand. “I don’t know. She said she wasn’t feeling well, and then she just collapsed on the ground.”

“They said she might be on drugs. Did she take anything? You have to be honest with me.”

“She’s not on anything, I promise,” Peter says. “Cole tried to give her an Advil and she didn’t even want that. You know how she is.”

“I know,” her mom sniffs. “I’m so glad you two were with her.” She puts one hand to her mouth. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if she’d been alone.”

“It just looks bad,” I say. “She’s going to get through this just fine.” I say that to convince all of us, because any other outcome is inconceivable. “Where’s Sienna?” Rayne’s sister should be here instead of me.