Confessions of a Teenage Psychic Read Online Free Page A

Asian, with long black hair and dark eyes. I wistfully admire the rhinestone-studded T-shirt she’s wearing, take another look at my faded Astros shirt, and wish I’d chosen something else for my first day at a new school.
    “Emma, Ashleigh, this is Caryn Alderson,” Megan says, motioning toward the two girls to show me which one is which. “She just moved here from Texas. She’s going with us.”
    I guess that means I’m staying, but I’m still nervous about trying to fit in. At the moment I’m not sure I do.
    Emma has a pretty oval face and light-brown curly hair tucked behind pierced ears. With her crisp white blouse, flowered cotton skirt, black Mary Janes, and a small string of pearls at her throat, she’s sort of a throwback to another era. But I have to admit it works for her.
    “Aren’t you in my English class?” Emma asks, interrupting my thoughts.
    “I’ve got Mrs. Renfrow fifth period. Is that your class?”
    “Yeah. Mrs. Renfrow is pretty boring, but at least it’s easier than math,” Emma says with a moan.
    Megan nods in agreement. “I can’t do math either.”
    “If you two would just study a little,” says Ashleigh, shaking her head. “It’s not all that hard.”
    “So you take honors geometry, right? And play violin?” That just pops into my head and out of my mouth before I can stop and think. I press my lips together— too late— and brace myself for her reaction.
    Ashleigh looks a little surprised. “Yeah, I’m an Asian cliche— good at math and first chair in the orchestra. Who told you?”
    “Lucky guess,” I say. “You seem smart.”
    Be cool, Caryn, you just met these girls.
    “She IS smart,” Emma says. “She’s the— ”
    “Valedictorian,” I finish, but then want to clap my hands over my mouth.
    “Well, not yet, but she will be.” Emma gives me a puzzled look.
    Quickly changing the subject I ask, “Are we waiting for anyone else?”
    “No, this is it. Sometimes other kids just show up there, but it’s usually pretty crowded, so we’d better go if we want a decent table,” Megan says as she pushes the Walk button on the street signal.
    The light finally changes and we all cross the busy street, heading toward Rosslyn Village. That’s what the locals call it, although I don’t know if the name is really official. Actually it’s just an odd assortment of little shops, trendy restaurants, and nightclubs for the over-twenty-one crowd. And of course plenty of places where kids like to hang out too, like the coffee shop and a fast-food restaurant.
    Peterson’s Coffee Emporium is an easy one-block walk from school, situated on a corner (and taking up most of the city block) next door to a pizza place and across the street from a consignment clothing store. I don’t know why I didn’t notice Peterson’s before, because Mom and I have eaten in that pizza place. Megan, Emma, Ashleigh, and I walk in and I follow them straight to the counter to place our orders. They all seem to be buying frozen lattes, and wanting to fit in I do the same, despite the fact that I’d rather have an herbal iced tea.
    I look around while I wait and a sudden flash in my head tells me that this hasn’t always been a coffee shop. I see a pool table and bar that used to be here. But it’s definitely a coffee shop now, decorated with cozy tables-for-two scattered around the room, but also lots of large leather-upholstered booths lining the walls. There’s an old Tiffany chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room where the pool table probably was, and the eclectic posters on the walls are supposed to look like they came from a garage sale.
    “Over here!” Megan leads us all to a large circular booth in the corner.
    We slide in, one after another, and I start sipping my latte. Slowly, because too much caffeine gives me a head rush, and if there’s one thing I don’t need it’s to be even more wired.
    “Is anyone going to the homecoming game Friday night?”