Beautifully Unnatural: A Young Adult Paranormal Boxed Set (52 page)

“I went to the best party last night. You totally should’ve been there.” Julie sipped her iced-mocha as I sat down across from her. “There were guys everywhere.
Everywhere
. Hot guys, too. Total eye candy. You definitely should’ve been there.”

“You said that already.” Three and a half days ago, Julie would’ve been on my list for not inviting me to such a cool party. I mean, come on, eye candy? I may have a failing grade in talking to gorgeous guys, but watching them was a whole different story.

At least it used to be that way. I fingered my bruised throat, hidden under a turtleneck, and shuddered as I again visualized being stabbed repeatedly.

“Julie, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Hang on.” She raised a hand. “I didn’t tell you who showed up at the party and flirted shamelessly with all the guys. You’ll never guess in a million years.” She fingered the straw in her coffee drink and stared wide-eyed like she seriously expected me to start naming names.

Under normal circumstances, yes, I’d appease Julie with a few blind guesses. But today, there were slightly more important things going on in my life. Like someone wanting to stab me to death, for example. My hands shook as the slideshow replayed. I had to confide everything, now, before I seriously lost it. “Listen, I’ve been trying to find the right way to tell you—”

“It was Candace Webber!” She threw her hands in the air. “I kid you not.”

“Huh?” Who cared about Candace Webber?

“Candace hung on practically every guy there and they totally ate it up.” Julie paused to suck iced mocha up her straw. “Then she started brown nosing Olivia Johnston. Like Liv would’ve given that nobody the time of day if all those guys hadn’t been drooling over her. It was sickening. Really. Liv obviously just wanted to get in on the action.”

I stared at my best friend. Should I be caring about this party replay? Was I missing a sensitivity gene?

“I couldn’t stand it. You would’ve died.” Julie leaned back in her chair and threw her arms up. “I nearly passed out from shock, I tell you.”

There was my cue. “Speaking of almost dying—”

“Excuse me.” Julie raised a hand to her chest. “Don’t interrupt when I’m talking about something
important
.” She raised her brows, then waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Like I was saying, then Liv and Candace . . . ”

My teeth clenched, and Julie’s voice faded as I inwardly seethed. Seven years we’d been best friends. Since fourth grade. Yeah, catering to Julie’s needs had been part of the deal. Fine. But, hello? Nearly strangled! “Can I just please tell you about
my
night?”

Julie raised her voice a notch and went on without missing a beat, “so then these guys . . .”

I took a breath, exasperated. Guys-guys-guys. Did she think of nothing else? For some reason, a picture of Julie and Joel Templeton flashed. My bff lacing her arm through his in the school courtyard yesterday after school. Why I got this image, I don’t know. Obviously she wouldn’t be going on and on about new guys if she were interested in stealing Joel. Not that he was mine to steal or that I’d even thought about him in two days. But I used to want him and wasn’t there a girlfriend code prohibiting her from making a move on him?

“And I saw Candace making out on the porch-swing with Russ Miller two minutes later. What a slut.” Julie sucked the last of her drink till it made vacuum sounds. Then she shook the ice, trying to dribble just a little more chocolate flavored espresso to the bottom. “But, on the bright side . . . guess who got dumped? You’ll never guess.
Guess
.”

Was there a bright side to someone getting dumped?

I took a deep breath and sighed, trying to relieve the tension from my body. I’d have to fill Julie in on the whole mind reading, almost getting killed thing later. Clearly all she cared about right now was the fabulous party I hadn’t been invited to. “Let’s see, who broke up . . . Chris and Ashley.”

Julie’s eyes lit up as she shook her head. “Nope. Guess again.”

This was sheer torture. “Summer and Kevin.”

“No.” She raised her penciled brows and flared her eyes like I was a moron for even thinking that. “They are so gonna get married one day.”

I tried to muster some kind of interested expression, but failed miserably. Not that Julie required this to go on. “I give up.”

Julie slapped her palms on the table and she leaned forward. “Brandon and Lisa. Finally. He was way too good for her anyway.” She raised a hand in the air for a high-five. “They’re history and he will be mine. Oh, yeah!”

Julie’d had a two-year crush on Brandon, so I obliged her by smacking my palm against hers. A zap went up my right arm and a bright light flashed in my head, followed by one clear image. A guy leaning forward, his lips parted. Then darkness.

Not just any guy, either. Joel Templeton.

My heart stopped.

“What?” Julie leaned forward. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. There was nothing phantasmal about what I’d seen. The image had been crystal clear.

“Your face is white as a sheet.” She tilted her head. “Are you in shock that Brandon and Lisa broke up? It’s a good thing, babe.”

Sure, now she shows concern for me. Where was her compassion when she was tonguing my ex want-to-be boyfriend? “You hooked up with Joel.”

“What?”

I glared at her. “You. Hooked. Up. With. Joel.”

She straightened her back and scrunched her face. “You’re crazy. All that caffeine has gone to your brain or something.”

I glanced at my drink, then realized she wanted to distract me. “He kissed you. I saw it.”

Her eyes bulged momentarily. “What’re you talking about? You weren’t there.” Then her eyes shifted. “Someone’s feeding you lies, sweetie. I can’t believe you’d take their word over mine.”

I stared at my best friend’s face and saw a mixture of hurt and indignation. My head throbbed. Had I imagined the picture? It had been a grueling night. Perhaps the trauma had gone to my brain and it wasn’t working properly today. “You swear? He didn’t kiss you? You guys never hooked up?”

Julie shook her head, emphatically. “Of course not. You know I’d never do that to you. Besides, I want Brandon.”

True statement. She did talk about Brandon non-stop and glare at Lisa every time she passed them making out in the halls at school. I dropped my head into my hands. What was wrong with me? All this mind reading craziness was making me paranoid. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Julie said, in an annoyed tone.

“I am.” Ashamed and exhausted, I dropped my gaze to the table where her manicured hand lay.

It trembled.

My face went numb.

“You’re lucky I’m so forgiving. But you still owe me. Big time.” She waved her hot pink nails in the air. “Now that we have that cleared up, back to Brandon . . .”

I looked up into her animated face, stared into her blue eyes and saw something deeper. Fear.

“So, then, in front of everyone, Lisa says—”

“Did you get a manicure?” I interrupted her, and no, I never interrupted Julie.

She paused. “What? Oh, yeah. Went to the salon after school yesterday.”

My brows drew together and I studied her, thinking of every possible clue, much as Trip would’ve done in this situation. “I thought you had cheerleading after school.”

“Well, yeah. I went
after
practice.” She rolled her eyes as if to say “duh”.

It was all I could do not to kick her. Such an actress. She’d almost had me fooled. “Let me see them.”

“My manicure?” She held her fingers out and looked at her nails. “What-evs.”

I slid my palm into her right hand, turned it over as if examining her nails, and felt electric darts shoot up my arm and into my head. Bright lights flashed repeatedly. Images popped between them. Joel wearing a short-sleeved polo shirt. Bright pink nails feeling their way up his bicep. Joel leaning forward, lips parted. I closed my eyes, took a slow breath, and concentrated.

I heard Julie’s voice. She whispered.
Joel. Forget Kylie. She’s not interested in you.She never will be. I asked her myself. Come on. Let’s just have fun. I’ll make you forget her.

I jerked my hand away.

Julie looked at me quizzically. “I’ll go with you if you want a mani/pedi. No biggie.”

No biggie? She’d just made out with my crush. Or ex-crush. Not to mention she’d just lied to my face. I didn’t know whether to smack her or cry. My eyes burned. Who in this world could I trust anymore? Everyone I counted on kept secrets. I pushed my chair back and sprang to my feet. “I have to go.”

“But—”

Feeling like I might explode into tears, I blindly pushed past the customers in line, and ran out of The Bean. I jumped in my car, threw it into drive, and sped off.

****

Cruising down J Street for the millionth time, I turned onto 20
th
, unable to go home. It didn’t matter that it was eight o’clock at night, I was grounded, and my dad was likely back from his errands. No way I could go home and face another liar right now.

What the . . . ? I slowed my car to a crawl.

Blue truck. Is that—could it be Trip’s? Not like I’d checked the license plate, but it appeared to be the same make, model, and faded blue.

The truck was parked along the curb, a few doors down from a flashing sign that read Corner Pocket. Some kind of dive bar/restaurant. I rolled past the front window and its neon Bud Light sign. Inside, a swarm of people surrounded a pool table. It seemed pretty hopping. I didn’t spot Trip, but that had to be where he was.

I needed to talk to Trip, find out why he’d left so fast last night. I mean, he hadn’t even asked me about my read on Orlando. What happened to his obsession with the case? I circled the block, parked along the curb, and strode into Corner Pocket.

There were a few families off to the left finishing their dinner, pool tables off to the right, and a bar straight ahead.

Sitting at a long table near the bar was a well-built guy with tousled hair and he was dressed all in black. Trip. He was with a large group and I saw him lift a brown bottle to his mouth. As if sensing me watching, he turned my way and our eyes locked.

I held up my hand and gave a pathetic wave. What was I doing here? Stalking him? So, the guy hadn’t wanted to stay and coddle me last night. He was trying to solve a case, not pick up on the nearest mind reader.

My face flushed, and I wanted to bolt. What had I been thinking?

Trip seemed to hesitate before he put his drink down, pushed his chair back from the table, and made his way over to me. “What’s going on?” He scanned my face. “You all right?”

“Of course.” If you consider losing your best friend, all right. Not to mention the near death experience last night.

“Excuse me.” A man and his wife squeezed their way around us as we were clearly blocking their way.

“Come here.” He reached for my elbow and led me to a corner a few steps away where we could have a conversation in semi-private. His green eyes searched mine. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw your truck parked on the street and . . . ” And, what? Should I spill my guts to him? Admit he might be the only one in the world I could trust? Something held me back. Oh, yeah. Maybe the fact that he had ditched me last night.

“And, what?” His brows raised a fraction. “Is it about the case?”

The case. Was that all I was to him? “No, nothing about that.”

He waited for me to elaborate, but I didn’t.

Call me a wimp, but there was something about having my father and my best friend betray me that made me hesitant to open up again.

Trip glanced over at the table he’d left and my eyes followed. Everyone seated there was either watching us or gesturing toward us with goofy looks on their faces.

What? Had Trip’s buddies—who actually seemed quite a bit older than him—never seen him with a girl before? I raised my chin a notch, wondering if I could hold my own with the clearly out-of-high-school girls at the table. I caught my reflection in the front window and cringed. Jeans. Black turtleneck. No make-up. Had I even brushed my hair this morning? Not likely by the looks of it.

I hunched my shoulders as the guys at the table gaped, undoubtedly, at my disheveled appearance. Then I lost my breath when a pretty blonde stepped out from the group.

Long hair, thick and straight. Black pants. Red v-necked blouse. Make-up applied to perfection. She looked older than Trip, but eyed him possessively.

“She your girlfriend or something?” I blurted before I could stop myself. I swallowed hard, not wanting the answer to be yes.

Trip’s brows knit as he followed my gaze to the blonde whose eagle eye didn’t waver. “What? You mean Collins? No way.”

“
That’s
Collins?” A wave of relief washed over me. Never thought I’d be happy to see her again. I raised a brow. She sure had a different look than at the police station. Quite opposite of the plain, nervous chick she’d been when I met her a few days ago. “What’s she doing here?”

Trip shrugged. “We’re celebrating. You know, that we got Amanda back and that we caught Miller—” his jaw muscles tensed, “—that’s the guy from last night.”

The guy who tried to kill me. Good to know he was in jail. I wondered if I’d have to testify or something since he’d tried to strangle me and all. Not something I wanted to think about, let alone talk about. Changing the subject seemed like a good idea. “Those are all cops then?”

He nodded slowly. “The case isn’t resolved, but we got her back. Well, you saved her but obviously they don’t know that part.”

So Sam was still keeping my involvement private. But if he hadn’t told Lynn about me, who had?

I turned back to the table, where Collins was still staring at us. She may not be Trip’s girlfriend, but with that obsessive stare maybe she wanted to be. I wondered if Trip went for the older, blonde, busty type. “Does Collins know about last night at the hospital?”

“Sam filled her in.” Trip cleared his throat and gave me another unreadable look. “I mean, she’d already heard about what went down, but they were talking about it earlier. Does your dad know you’re here?”