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Uncial Press - V Palmer Linda

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105 pages

English

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Mia Tagliaro was born with the ability to communicate with the dead, the reason her parents sent her to a weekend camp for kids with similar talents when she was just eight. With the help of seasoned clairvoyants, she learned that she wasn't a freak at all. There were lots of other people just like her, in particular a boy camper her age named TC, who got vibes from the living and the dead. By the end of their stay, Mia and TC had shared more than just secrets about their "sidekicks," their nickname for psychic abilities. They shared a first kiss and a vow they'd never lose touch. That was then. Now eighteen, Mia is quite comfortable in her skin and frequently passes along messages to the living from departed friends and family. She also helps the police with missing persons cases, loving the rush she gets when the lost are found. Though she hasn't heard from her first crush, TC, for nearly a decade, Mia still thinks of him. So it's quite a shock when they run into each other at a school dance. Tall, athletic, and definitely gorgeous, TC, who calls himself Cooper now, seems just as amazing as she remembers. Then he tells her that his sidekicks deserted him years ago and actually uses the word freak when talking about them. Even worse, he lies when he says they can be friends again. Just when Mia is ready to give up on him, the ghost of Cooper's dad begs her to try a little harder. But how can she reach a guy who not only thinks she's a freak but deliberately keeps his distance? And what will happen when the spirits of local murder victims suddenly begin haunting her?

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Publié par	Uncial Press
Date de parution	18 octobre 2013
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781601741691
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0262€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Sidekicks

By
Linda Palmer

Uncial Press Aloha, Oregon 2013

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, placesand events described herein are products of the author'simagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construedas real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations,organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirelycoincidental.
ISBN 13: 978-1-60174-169-1
Sidekicks Copyright © 2013 byLinda Palmer
Cover design Copyright © 2013by Linda Palmer Background: © Can Stock Photo Inc. / sandralise Hands: © Can Stock Photo Inc. / windu
All rights reserved. Except for use in review, thereproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part inany form by any electronic, mechanical or other means nowknown or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the writtenpermission of the publisher.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distributionof this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement,including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by theFBI and is punishable by up to five (5) years in federal prison and a fineof $250,000.
Published by Uncial Press, an imprint ofGCT, Inc.
Visit us at http://www.uncialpress.com
Chapter One
"Please sign in."
After writing Mia Tagliaro on the sheet the parentvolunteer had indicated, I smiled absently at her and gravitated tothe nearest wall. There I sandwiched myself between two standupposters, one a witch and the other a mummy, while shy me caughtmy breath and oriented to my surroundings. The gym decorationswere way over the top in the best of ways, I quickly decided, and theblaring music totally rocked. Too bad more than half of the studentspacked into the place didn't really know each other.
I blamed the Louisiana State Legislature more than themasks and costumes everyone wore. After all, our lawmakers werethe ones who'd consolidated five rural schools to save educationmoney. And as a result, the senior class of my old high school in VilleCachée had not only been transplanted to a so-called centrallocation in Martinsburg, it had been merged with other seniorclasses, more than quadrupling our numbers with students we'dnever met, many of them former sports rivals.
Two months of all attempts to shuffle everyone had failed,ranging from weekly rah-rah assemblies to deliberately integratedclasses. I'm pretty sure that's why the principal had decided to throwa Halloween masquerade dance with three rules: mandatoryattendance, a mass unmasking at eleven, and no names exchangedbefore then. Guess he thought we'd mix and mingle better if wedidn't know who was who, and I'll admit the concept intrigued meand probably everyone else. Anonymity could be enticing, especiallyfor a girl with no boyfriend and my kind of secrets.
So there I stood on a Saturday night, dressed as DaphneBlake in spite of my dark hair and desperately scanning thedisguised basketball court for the rest of the Scooby gang,specifically Tyler Richter and Brynn Tucker, friends from VilleCachée that I chauffeured to Martinsburg High every day.
When I spotted a masked Shaggy in his signature green V-neck and drab brown pants, I smiled, glad that Tyler had gone withthat character instead of Scooby-Doo, a costume that would've beenhot and cumbersome. I didn't see a Velma Dinkley around andassumed that Brynn hadn't arrived yet. Wishing we'd all cometogether as originally planned, I headed straight to Tyler...or tried to.The gym floor was crowded, and a barrage of spirits, most of themshockingly young, clamored for my attention even though I'd politelyasked them to back off before I ever entered the building. For somereason, I just hadn't gotten the hang of setting boundaries even afterall the years of practicing.
Finally breaking free of the throng, I paused for a sec to re-remind all ghosts I was off duty for the night. I also tugged down myperiwinkle mini-dress and rearranged my iconic lime green scarfbefore sidling up to Tyler. A quick onceover left me in awe. Hisusually blond hair might've been sprayed a little dark, but it wasstyled to Norville "Shaggy" Rogers perfection. He'd even glued onchin whiskers that weren't quite a goatee but were still scruffyenough for anyone looking at him to get the idea. I playfully poppedthe elastic band of his black mask, which was wider than my greenone and covered more of his face. "Hey, you. Great costume."
He flinched. "Er, thanks."
"Spotted Brynn yet?"
"Who?"
Assuming he hadn't heard me over the din, I raised myvoice. "Brynn. Can you believe John insisted on driving her here?" Ireferred to her brand new stepdad. "If he doesn't stop trying so hard,she's going to go postal on him."
Tyler, who'd been sulking all day, didn't answer, no bigsurprise. There was only one thing he hated worse than dances, andthat was small talk.
So I kept on babbling in hopes he'd warm up. "Gym looksawesome, but I still wish I was anywhere else, don't you? I hateMartinsburg High. Just hate it. And I can't believe my senior year isbeing wasted in this impersonal dump."
"Hmph."
Irritated that he wasn't taking the bait, I tried again to drawhim out. "Old man Marsh is almost as bad as Brynn's stepdad when itcomes to trying too hard, don't you think? Honestly, if he'd just quitpushing, we'd probably blend. As it is, the whole getting-along thingfeels like an assignment. Not that I don't give him credit for trying tomake lemonade out of the lemons legislators lobbed at us, but this isnot how I wanted my senior year to be."
Tyler continued to stare ahead. I wanted to slug him forbeing such a dud. Chitchat wasn't exactly my forte either, but at leastI was trying.
"Nice job on this." I inspected his whiskery chin, whichlooked pretty awesome. "And the hair, though you could've gonewith lighter spray. This looks as black as mine. But you still make adashing Shaggy. Bet you're glad you didn't go with the Scoobycostume."
"You mean like that one?"
I looked where Tyler pointed and saw a tall, masked guywearing a brown flannel dog suit topped with a cartoon Scooby-Doohead, signing in at the side door a few yards away. Beside him stooda masked Velma, practically jumping up and down as she franticallywaved to get someone's attention. Could that someone be me? Ittook a moment for everything to register.
With a gasp of horror, I whirled to face Shaggy. "Tyler?"
"Nope."
"Oh my God." I slapped my hand over my mouth. "I thoughtyou were someone else."
"No shit."
"I am so, so sorry." I stuck out my right hand, trying torecover from my social gaff by introducing myself. Then Iremembered the rules and quickly took it back. "I'm from VilleCachée. You?"
"Martinsburg."
"Oh! So you actually went to school here before themerge?"
"Yep, been attending this impersonal dump for years."
Since there was nothing I could possibly say to make thingsright, I pasted a smile on my face. "Well, it was nice not meeting you. Will I see you when the clock strikes eleven?"
"I'll think about it." He left me.
Of course I wanted to die. Unfortunately, Brynn rushed upjust then and grabbed my arm, her brown eyes open wide. "Who.Was. That?"
"No idea. Thought he was him ." I punched Tyler'smuscled arm even though it wasn't his fault I'd just made a fool ofmyself.
"Ow! Told you I was going to be Scooby."
"Yes, but I hoped you'd have better sense." I dug in thepocket of my dress for a tissue and dabbed Tyler's moisture-beadedforehead just above the brown mask and below a fringe of blondhair. "You're already sweating like a pig."
"Oh yeah?" He sniffed an armpit.
I rolled my eyes.
"We should track that guy down." Brynn absently messedwith her stiff brown hairdo. "After all, he sort of completes us and inthe best of ways."
I thought of the mystery Shaggy's wide shoulders and couldonly agree. "Doesn't he?"
Tyler snorted his opinion of that. "Where's the punch bowl?I need something cold to drink."
We set off in search of it, ducking under the loops of cobwebsomeone had draped from the gate of the cardboard stone wallseparating the refreshment table from the dance floor. When I felt acrunch under my shoe, I glanced down and saw a huge spider. Isquealed and jumped back, a sound lost in the hard beat of a rocksong. Tyler hooted and picked up the plastic arachnid I'd justsquashed. That's when I realized someone had littered the edges ofthe dance floor with bugs that definitely added to the ick factor.
Suddenly the overhead lights went down and black lightscame up in their place. The skeletons dangling here and thereglowed an eerie green, as did the stand-ups lining the walls. Yeah,whoever had decorated the place had gone all out. And it was eyecatching in the creepiest of ways, right down to the grotesque jack o'lanterns stacked on bales of hay in every corner. No smiley-facedpumpkins here.
"What kind of vibe did you get from him?" Brynn was stillstuck on Shaggy.
"No vibes. He's alive, remember. I'm not worth a crap withthe living. Besides, I checked all sidekicks at the door." That's whatI'd called my psychic gifts since I was eight.
"You can do that?" Tyler asked.
"I can try."
Since both my besties were used to my weirdness, theyaccepted my answer with solemn nods. Just then, the DJ put on P!nk,who sang about getting the party started.
In the mood to cooperate for once, I grabbed Tyler's hand."Dance with me?"
"In your dreams."
I didn't take the rejection personally. Though amazinglycoordinated on the basketball court, he had the dance moves of anostrich. Luckily, I didn't really need a partner to get into the music. Imoved onto the floor, not in the least self-conscious for once. Thesedays, dancing alone was perfectly okay, and I'd only taken lessonssince first grade. All around me students in costume gyrated to theinfectious beat. I cleared my mind, closed my eyes, and went with themusic.
"All alone?"
My eyes flew open. Shaggy stood in front of me, all six-foot-whatever of him and nothing but hot.
I swear my heart skipped a beat as I otherwise w