Free The Soul Seekers by Amy Saia

to affect every edge of his body. The top of his head—that dark hair—faded soft, then his face, his eyes. It all washed away, like an hourglass draining, disappearing into nothingness as the last bit of daylight melded into night with a dark purple hue.
    The vice-like grip was gone. He was gone.
    I was alone.
    I stumbled and reached out to the van, trying to regulate my breathing. It must be something else, something I ate or drank. Smoothing my hair, I closed the van door and made my way across the street to the square. None of this had happened. It was the soda.
    Jesse had taken the stage, black leather jacket and all, illuminated from behind by electric amber lights. When he saw me approach—cutting through the crowd—he smiled and took one hand off his guitar to wave. I waved back.
    “I’m going to dedicate this next song to my golden-haired friend, Emma. It’s gonna be okay, babe.”
    Looking up, I caught his smile and smiled back. Maybe Jesse could help me after all. Yes, the more I thought about it, Jesse was the right person to turn to. He . . . he . . .
    Something was wrong. My thoughts were overwhelming and confusing. I felt dizzy and sick. My hands clutched at the stage as I fell on rubbery, unsteady legs. I took one last look at Jesse’s concerned face before everything went black.
    ¤ ¤ ¤
    When I came to, Jesse was carrying me in his arms.
    “What happened?” I asked.
    “You fainted.”
    “How did I do that?”
    “The heat maybe. You’re pretty pale right now.”
    I tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he held tight. I noticed a little vein throbbing in the side of his neck. “Am I heavy?”
    “No. Yes. You’re heavier than a guitar, let’s just say that.”
    Good old Jesse.
    Shifting his weight, he opened the passenger side door of the Camaro and put me down. “Here we are.”
    Jesse waited for me to climb in then shut the door behind, jumping the hood like Luke Duke to get to the driver’s side. When he slipped in his seat I thought about the concert. “Aren’t you supposed to finish your set?”
    “Yeah. It kind of sucks, but it would suck more to have some other dude scoop you up and take you home.”
    I pleaded with my eyes. Don’t take me home. Take me far away from this town.
    He seemed to understand. “Emma.”
    “Jesse, why did you take me up to the bluffs that first night?”
    “Because I wanted to get to know you, honest—”
    “Why do you want the coin so bad? You can have it, you know.” I dug in my purse, but it was missing. “Hold on, it’s in here somewhere.”
    “I don’t care about the coin.”
    I kept searching, growing frustrated with the absence of an object that had caused more trouble than it could ever be worth. I reached up to click on the overhead light.
    “Emma.”
    I took out the wallet and ran my hands along the bottom of my purse, cursing.
    “Emma!”
    “What?”
    “Forget the coin, will you?”
    “Sure.” I dropped the billfold. The coin couldn’t just disappear like that. What if it fell into the wrong hands?
    “Anything the matter?”
    “No. Only, do you mind if I go take care of something real quick?” It must have fallen out in the van. I’d go back there, get it, and everything would be fine.
    “Yeah, I mind a lot. We need to talk.”
    “Just a second.”
    I threw open the door and rushed across the parking lot, ignoring Jesse’s yell behind me. “You just fainted!”
    After taking a shortcut behind the gazebo, I cut through the square and headed across the street to the alleyway, stopping when I saw those same men circling the van. I turned around quickly, away from the scene. I’d have to get it later.
    “Miss! Miss,” they yelled behind me.
    I picked up my pace.
    “Young lady!”
    Screeching tires met my ears, followed by the sound of a loud motor. Only one car in town made that sound.
    When I jumped in Jesse looked panicked. “God, Emma. What’s wrong with you?”
    “I lost the coin.”
    “What?”
    “In that van