Confessions of a Teenage Psychic Read Online Free Page B

Emma asks.
    “I am!” Megan answers, and then adds for my benefit, “It’s not that I care about football really, but I want to go to the dance afterward, and you can’t go to the dance unless you go to the game.”
    Weird rule. I take another sip of the latte and then push it aside. “A homecoming dance after a football game? How does that work?”
    “It’s like a mixer,” Megan explains. “No one really dresses up. Everyone just goes to the game and then to the dance in the school cafeteria. Wanna go with?” she suddenly asks me.
    I’m a little surprised, being the new kid and all, but before I can answer, Emma jumps up and hurries to the door as two good-looking guys walk in. And I mean these two boys are HOT! Emma kisses the dark-haired one on the cheek, links her arm in his, and leads him to our table. The other boy goes to the counter and places an order.
    “Scoot over.” Emma nudges everyone to make room for the newcomers. “This is Kevin Marshall,” she says to me. Her boyfriend I assume, and I don’t need to be psychic to figure that out.
    “And you are… ?” he asks me.
    “Caryn Alderson, new to town, new to Rosslyn High.” I start to offer my hand to shake, but there isn’t enough room at the table to even stretch it out, so in embarrassment I pretend I just meant to grab my latte.
    “Mind if I sit down?” asks the other boy, balancing three iced teas. He hands one of them to Kevin and takes a sip from one of the other two.
    Did I say he was hot? That doesn’t begin to describe him. He’s tall, probably over six feet, and very muscular in an athletic sort of way. He keeps running his fingers through his surfer-blond hair, and he’s dressed prep-style— golf shirt, belted khaki shorts, loafers. You know, the clean-cut all-American type.
    He can’t be that thirsty . I glance around the room to see who else might be joining us.
    “Everyone shove over again,” Emma orders. “Caryn, this is John, but no one calls him that.”
    He awkwardly tries to juggle the iced teas in order to shake hands with me, but grins at me endearingly when he realizes he can’t do it. I can feel my heart start to flutter.
    “Everyone calls me Quince,” he says in a clear, deep voice.
    He has an easy-going charm, the kind that makes girls fall instantly in love, and I am already sure I’m going to be one of them. Sometimes guys like that are players— they like to play with girls’ hearts for a while and then dump them when they get bored. But my instincts tell me Quince isn’t like that. This guy seems genuine and I like him immediately.
    “Hi,” I say, looking him directly in the eyes. He has the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
    “So where did you come from?” he asks me, squeezing into the booth.
    I’m so busy staring I almost forget to answer him. He grins at me expectantly.
    “Uh, Houston,” I finally reply. “My mom owns a bookstore.” I can’t stop looking at him. He’s just so darned cute.
    “Cool. You coming to the game Friday?” My heart skips another beat.
    “Quince here is the star quarterback, number seventeen, and Rosslyn is favored to beat Newton Tech by a whole lot.” Kevin laughs as he playfully elbows Quince. “I’m his favorite receiver.”
    Usually I’m just a baseball fan, but suddenly football seems very interesting. Just as I’m about to open my mouth and say I’ll be at the game with Megan, the door opens and in walks a girl who looks like she’s just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. She’s tall, slender, wearing an impossibly short skirt and extremely high heels, and has cascading brunette hair which she keeps tossing over her shoulder. All eyes turn to watch her as she makes her grand entrance and I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I see the smitten look on Quince’s face and realize this is who he’s waiting for.
    Quince slides purposefully out of the booth and walks over to greet her with a hug. He casually takes