Cassandra grabbed the wheel and jerked it sharply. They swung around the drifting car just in time as it collided with the highway median.
Aidan recovered control and brought their car to a stop on the side of the road. Through the rear view mirror, Cassandra could see the driver adjusting something in his lap. A passenger's head bobbed up in surprise.
"What just happened?" Aidan asked, bewildered. "You, like, predicted that or something."
"I could see his numbers going up in real-time."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning he was currently…"
"Oh. While driving?"
She nodded.
He looked at her in amazement and then glanced behind them, where the driver had opened the door and was stepping out with a partially-done belt, looking dazed but uninjured.
"They're safe," she said. "Let's go."
Aidan obediently sped away as other drivers pulled up to investigate.
"I can't believe it," he said.
"Neither can I half the time."
"You're like a superhero."
"A superhero with the shittiest power ever conceived of, sure."
"It may be ridiculous, but it allowed you to save us just now."
"Still. If there were a pill I could take to make this all go away, I wouldn't hesitate. I know it sounds weird or funny or even cool. But to me it feels like my entire existence has been spent seeing things I never asked for and never wanted to know. Do you know what it's like seeing a little girl walking alongside her father and seeing the exact same timestamps over their heads?"
"That happens? My God."
"Sure. It happens often enough. Even to people I know."
"People you know?"
She paused. She thought this might come. Aidan might want to know the numbers of people they both knew. Saying what she knew might make the truth of her power more convincing. But did anyone have the right to know those things? She surely didn't, but she had no choice in the matter. But telling Aidan would be a choice.
She first met Julianna when they were assigned to the same project in eighth grade. Before even knowing her name, Cassandra had been aware of her. Julianna was one of the few girls who had numbers. That fact itself wasn't uncommon. Some of the precocious girls who had gotten boyfriends early had numbers. But Julianna wasn't known to be dating anyone.
It was that curiosity that compelled Cassandra to suggest that they work on the project at Julianna's house. She purposefully dawdled so that she would be around when Julianna's parents got here. She scrutinized their numbers, but they corresponded with each other and not with Julianna—not that that exonerated them. After all, it was possible they had abused Julianna at some point prior to being intimate with each other. She could only see a person's latest numbers, not their entire timeline.
"Is anything going on?" she tried once. "Anything you want to talk about?"
"No, why would there be?" Julianna replied, and that was the end of the conversation.
She approached it from another angle. "It feels like everyone has a boyfriend," she mused.
"Yeah, it does."
"I can't imagine going out with anyone."
"Yeah, me neither," Julianna agreed.
"Really? Not ever?"
"Well, I mean, I would like to, one day, but somebody would have to be interested in me first."
That seemed to confirm that Julianna hadn't had much contact with anyone their own age. But the undeniable reality of her numbers was there, demanding explanation.
Usually, they worked together on their project—a PowerPoint presentation describing asexual reproduction—on Sundays. One Sunday, Cassandra texted to confirm that she was still good to come over.
"Sorry, I can't today, we're going over to my uncle's house."
Something made Cassandra hesitate.
"When are you going over? I think I left something at your house."
Cassandra usually asked her mom for a ride, but this time felt she had to go by herself. She found her old bike with its deflated tires in the garage and quickly filled it up with air, relieved that there were no punctures in the tires. She set off, feeling the adjustable seat come loose and wiggle under her as she went. She hadn't ridden her bike in years; she didn't have the stamina to pedal up the hills, and so would hop off and run up alongside it as the riderless pedals bruised her ankles. Her route required her to take what everyone called the "highway"; it was only a branch of Route 118, far from a freeway, but cars and even trucks blasted past her as she wobbled and struggled to stay inside the narrow shoulder, which vanished for long portions of the road.
She arrived to see a car in the driveway. Julianna was loading a duffel bag into the trunk.
"Hey, Cass," Julianna said. "What did you forget? Do you want me to go look for you?"
"That's okay," Cassandra started, but stopped. She saw the man behind the wheel.
His numbers matched Julianna's.
"Is that your uncle?" she asked.
"Yeah, we're going swimming at his cabin."
Cassandra didn't know what to say. Should she ask her not to go? Reveal what she knew?
"Okay, well, have fun. Mind if I run up to your room and look for my stuff?"
She went up to Julianna's room to at least pretend to search for her imaginary forgotten belonging. There was no way to prevent it. Julianna was going to leave and be alone with her uncle again. She paced the room uselessly, thinking of what to do. After a few minutes had passed, she decided to leave before anyone started to suspect anything.
Julianna was in the backseat now. She rolled her window down. "Find everything?"
"Yes, I did. Thanks. Have fun!"
She watched the car pull away on her bike.
When she got home, she looked up the guidance counselor's number online and left an anonymous voicemail.
The weeks after that, though Julianna didn't say anything, and though there were rumors of legal proceedings, Cassandra never saw Julianna's numbers change again until she met Julian.
It made her wonder. What if she could become a detective? What if she could use her powers to solve crimes against children? Maybe that would count as a good use of her powers. Though, how could she make anyone else understand how she had come to gain the knowledge she had?
And yet, for all the suffering her power had brought her, she would never regret being able to have, in some way, helped Julianna.
Maybe that was why she had gained it after all—to help people in that small way.
At least for brief moments, it gave her solace.