Reunion Read Online Free Page B

back against my pillows, disappointed.
    â€œOh,” I said. “So you’ve sensed a disturbance in the Force, have you, Luke?”
    Jesse knit his eyebrows in bewilderment. He had no idea, of course, what I was talking about. My rare flashes of wit are, for the most part, sadly wasted on him. It’s really no wonder he isn’t even the tiniest bit in love with me.
    I sighed and said, “So you heard something on the ghost grapevine. What?”
    Jesse often picked up on things that were happening on what I like to call the spectral plane, things that often don’t have anything to do with him, but which usually end up involving me, most often in a highly life-threatening—or at least horribly messy—way. The last time he’d “heard some things,” I’d ended up nearly being killed by a psychotic real-estate developer.
    So I guess you can see why my heart doesn’t exactly go pitter-pat whenever Jesse mentions he’s heard something.
    â€œThere are some newcomers,” he said, as he continued to pet Spike. “Young ones.”
    I raised my eyebrows, remembering the kids in the prom wear at Jimmy’s. “Yes?”
    â€œThey’re looking for something,” Jesse said.
    â€œYeah,” I said. “I know. Beer.”
    Jesse shook his head. He had a sort of distant expression on his face, and he wasn’t looking at me, but sort of past me, as if there were something very far away just beyond my right shoulder.
    â€œNo,” he said. “Not beer. They’re looking for someone. And they’re angry.” His dark eyes came sharply into focus and bored into my face. “They’re very angry, Susannah.”
    His gaze was so intense, I had to drop my own. Jesse’s eyes are such a deep brown, a lot of the time I can’t tell where his pupils end and irises begin. It’s a little unnerving. Almost as unnerving as the way he always calls me by my full name, Susannah. No one except Father Dominic ever calls me that.
    â€œAngry?” I looked down at my geometry book. The kids I saw hadn’t looked a bit angry. Scared, maybe, after they’d realized I could see them. But not angry. He must, I thought, have been talking about someone else .
    â€œWell,” I said. “Okay. I’ll keep my eyes open. Thanks.”
    Jesse looked like he’d wanted to say more, but all of a sudden, Gina rolled over, lifted up her head, and squinted in my direction.
    â€œSuze?” she said sleepily. “Who you talking to?”
    I said, “Nobody.” I hoped she couldn’t read the guilt in my expression. I hate lying to her. She is, after all, my best friend. “Why?”
    Gina hoisted herself up onto her elbows and gaped at Spike. “So that’s the famous Spike I’ve been hearing so much about from your brothers? Damn, he is ugly.”
    Jesse, who’d stayed where he was, looked defensive. Spike was his baby, and you just don’tgo around calling Jesse’s baby ugly.
    â€œHe’s not so bad,” I said, hoping Gina would get the message and shut up.
    â€œAre you on crack?” Gina wanted to know. “Simon, the thing’s only got one ear.”
    Suddenly, the large, gilt-framed mirror above the dressing table started to shake. It had a tendency to do this whenever Jesse got annoyed—really annoyed.
    Gina, not knowing this, stared at the mirror with growing excitement. “Hey!” she cried. “All right! Another one!”
    She meant an earthquake, of course, but this, like the one before, was no earthquake. It was just Jesse letting off steam.
    Then the next thing I knew, a bottle of fingernail polish Gina had left on the dressing table went flying and, defying all gravitational law, landed upside down in the suitcase she had placed on the floor at the end of the daybed, around seven or eight feet away.
    I probably don’t need to add that the bottle of