"Troy, you don't seem to have a temperature," his mother said, squinting at the thermometer.

"But I'm sick!" Troy protested, "I'm so sick I can't go to school today!"

He laid in his bed, huddled under the sheets, his cell phone safely under his pillow. If he doesn't leave the house . . . then the horoscope can't come true, right?

He was pleased with his plan, but hoped pleading with his mother would work.

"Well . . . I suppose since you never miss school," she decided, "you can stay home if you feel that sick."

Inside, Troy was cheering, but he faked a cough for his mother's sake. When the door had clicked shut after her exit, Troy pulled out his phone. He had to call . . . Chad. But Chad wasn't talking to him. He sighed with irritation and dialed Gabriella's phone number. There was no answer, so he explained the situation on her voicemail . . . minus the horoscope details.

With all day to think, Troy realized that he was still letting these messages control his life. His head started to hurt from thinking too much, so he switched on the TV.

He reached a channel with a funny lady on it. She was wearing a scarf on her head and was sitting in front of a crystal ball. Apparently, it was a psychic hotline.

Maybe . . . this lady could confirm his horoscope. Troy quickly dialed the number on the bottom of the screen, and sat on hold for a few minutes.

"Hello?" someone answered the phone.

"Hi," he said, feeling awkward.

"So you would like to know your future," the lady stated in her strange accent.

"Why else would I be calling?" he asked.

"Well . . . your future looks . . . your future looks . . . your future looks . . . your future looks . . ."

"HOW DOES MY FUTURE LOOK?"

"Do not interrupt my psychic energy!" she snapped, "Your future looks . . ."

Troy yawned.

"Tired, you are very tired," the psychic said, "I see sleep in your future!"

Troy could have figured that out!

"Wait! The crystal ball is telling me . . ." she gasped.

"What? What do you see?"

"It looks like . . ." she started.

"Like?"

"Like the death omen!"

Troy hung up the phone as fast as he could. She couldn't possible have said . . . death? He hoped that it was all a misunderstanding . . . a coincidence perhaps.

But inside he knew it had to be a really big coincidence. His heart pounded in his ears. The woman's cackling voice repeated through his mind. Troy was soon so worn out, that he actually did fall asleep from feeling sick.

He was having a strange dream when his cell phone rang and woke him up.

"Hello?" Troy answered it in his drowsy tone.

"Hi Troy, it's Morgan and I heard you were sick . . . well I just figured because you weren't at school today," Morgan continued with her useless babbling as Troy tuned her out.

He wished he could sleep again.

"Morgan, how are you calling me from school, and how the heck did you get my phone number?"

"It's free period silly! And . . . uh doesn't everyone know your phone number?"

"No."

"Oh . . . well, don't worry about it," she told him, "Just feel better okay?"

"Um . . . alright," he said, "Bye?"

"Bye!"

Morgan finally hung up the phone.

Troy rolled his eyes and fell back into his pillow. He returned to his state of hiding from the world once again.

Troy awoke again around two-o-clock, this time not because of an outside source. Though he wasn't really sick, it was good to catch up on sleep. School would be out soon, and he wanted to talk to Gabriella.

Since he hadn't eaten all day, Troy bounded down the stairs to make himself a sandwich. He was placing the top piece of bread on his sandwich when he heard his cell phone ringing upstairs. Irritated, he ran up the stairs to his room and answered it. It was Chad.

"I know I was mad at you yesterday," Chad explained, "But I really had to call you so don't hang up."

"What for?" Troy asked, sensing fear in Chad's voice.

"I'll tell you the whole story later. Right now, I'm coming to get you," Chad told him.

"Chad . . . just tell me what's going on!" Troy demanded.

"Troy, there was an accident at school," Chad hesitated, "and . . . Gabriella was involved."

"WHAT? Is she okay?"

"We don't know yet," Chad explained, "My mom picked me up from school and we're almost to your house. We're going to the hospital."

"I'll . . . be ready in a minute," Troy managed to say, choking back emotions until he had hung up.

A death is just around the corner.

No . . . it couldn't be . . .

Gabriella.