Sidekicks (5 page)

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Authors: Linda Palmer

BOOK: Sidekicks
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I smiled. "I know that feeling well. Wish I could block spirits when I didn't want to mess with them."

"You mean you still can't do it?"

"No. I'm hopeless." I tried to get him back on track, thinking he'd eventually get to the reason for today's kiss. "I guess when your mom got married you completely gave up on your sidekicks."

"Yeah."

"Did you want Marsh to adopt you?"

"No. But I was ten, so nobody gave a shit what I thought, and I did want Mom to be happy. If that's what it took, then fine. I completely blocked Dad after that. I felt so guilty about changing my last name..." Cooper's voice faded to silence. "Eventually all my sidekicks left me. At least I thought they did. Now I'm not so sure since they seem to be coming back. I've felt a few things lately, and I saw that idiot on the stage today."

And I thought I'd felt bad for him before.

Just then I experienced the tingle of an approaching spirit that stopped right behind Cooper. He didn't seem to notice. I wasn't sure if that was because he couldn't feel her or because he had his eye on a guy with two little kids, who acknowledged him with a wave and started walking toward us. As they got closer I realized the hovering spirit, an elderly woman I'd felt before, had a message for the teen.

"Who's that?" I quickly asked.

"Marty Bookman."

"Was he Jack Sparrow at the dance?"

"Yeah." Cooper suddenly tensed. He glanced over his shoulder and then back at me, his gaze colliding with mine. "Please don't do this."

"How can I not?" I retorted, unwilling to let his qualms become mine.

Marty got to us, trailed by a precious little girl who looked about five and wore pink from her hair bow to her sparkly sneakers. The little guy with her was probably seven or so and obviously didn't give a flip about appearances. At any rate, a bright red Kool-Aid mustache stained his upper lip and the front of his white Pokémon tee.

"Is this her?" Marty asked by way of greeting, his green eyes on me. He wore his blond hair, streaked by the sun, a little long. I noticed his shoulders and neck had that bulky weightlifter shape to them.

Cooper, flushing, nodded. "Mia, this is my friend Marty and his little brother and sister, Joey and Jenn. Guys, Mia."

"Hi." Spinning his Frisbee on his finger, Marty gave me a swift onceover.

I didn't really mind, but only because I was so focused on what I needed to do. "Hi. Did Cooper tell you I'm a medium?"

He stopped the Frisbee. "A what?"

"I see dead people. Sometimes they give me messages. I have one for you."

Marty couldn't even answer.

But I was used to that reaction. "Did your grandmother just die?"

"Yes..."

"I'm seeing four fingers. Was it four months ago?"

"Four weeks, actually."

"Oh. I'm so sorry."
Gulp.
By now Marty looked a little spooked, so I began speed talking. "She wants me to tell you that what you're looking for is in a shoebox in her old cedar chest, which is in...a garage...no, scratch that. I think it's a closet. I'm seeing a red scarf, so maybe it's wrapped up in one. Does that mean anything to you?"

Marty's eyes rounded in shock. "Could you guys watch the kids for ten minutes, fifteen tops?"

Cooper nodded. "Yeah, sure."

Marty took off at a sprint, quickly disappearing from view in the trees. I turned to Cooper, without words asking where his friend was going.

"He lives right over there." He pointed to a gated community across the street.

Oh. I smiled at Jenn, a precious little girl with wispy long hair and big green eyes. She had those eyes on me and swung her body slightly from side to side as she stared. "Love the pink tutu. I used to have one. Doesn't fit me now, though."

Jenn pirouetted for me, which made us all laugh. Cooper struck up a conversation with Joey, who he clearly knew well, while Jenn and I discussed Angelina Ballerina, a mutual fav. I told her about all the dance lessons I'd had and a recital that hadn't gone so well.

In exactly twelve minutes, Marty jogged back into view, something in his hand. Actually, his jog was more like a victory leap, and he held the prize--a baseball--in the air, whooping loudly when he got back to us. He made a big show of kissing the thing, which looked a little dirty and was covered in autographs. "Pirates beat the Yankees in the 1960 World Series with this very ball. Papaw was at the game. Mamaw promised I could have it when she died, but we couldn't find it anywhere." Marty zoned in on Cooper. "Dude, your woman freakin' rocks!"

They performed a complicated handshake that made me laugh. Though Cooper might've had mixed feelings about me revealing my gifts, he sure didn't have a problem with his best friend finding that ball. In fact, his grin told me he was thrilled for his buddy.

Beaming back, Marty gathered up his siblings and waved an exuberant goodbye. I turned to Cooper. "'Your woman'?"

He flushed, something he did a lot around me. "I might've exaggerated the relationship a little."

"When and why? I'm a
freak
, after all."

Now he winced. "You're not going to forgive me for that, are you?"

"Never, ever. And don't answer my question with a question of your own, please."

"I said it after the dance because of how Marty was acting. He'd seen us talking and thought you were so hot I was afraid he might make a move on you."

My jaw dropped. "No way."

Cooper gave me the oddest look. "Don't you have any mirrors at home?"

Huh? My blank stare must've clued him in to the fact that I still didn't understand. That's because I did have and considered myself passably cute on a good hair day.

"You're even more gorgeous now than you were at eight."

I snorted. "No one is gorgeous at eight, me most of all."

"Sure you were. Inside and out, just as you are now. No wonder I never got over you."

Aww. Though he was spouting pure BS, I couldn't help but be touched. "You were my first boyfriend, you know."

Cooper took my hand and kissed the back of it. "How do you feel about me being your last?"

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my view of him. Could this really be happening? I'd only wished for it my whole life or at least since I'd been eight.

At the sight of the impending moisture, Cooper quickly backtracked. "Or not."

What could I do but kiss him? Leaning in, I brushed my lips over his and then tried to pull back. He didn't let me. So what barely qualified as a kiss quickly became the kiss to end all kisses...at least so far. Since I planned on practicing as often as possible that was bound to change.

By the time I pulled back to catch my breath, my heart raced in my chest. "Mmm. You've really gotten better at that through the years, and I don't want to know how."

He hooted. "If I'm better than I was at eight, it's because I've been saving up."

"Good answer. Perfect, actually. And as for my answer, you can definitely be my last boyfriend if I can be your last girlfriend."

His smile lit up the park. "You've got it. Man oh man. I can't believe this is happening. It's like we never lost each other."

"We always had a connection, don't you think?"

"Yeah. Right from hello."

"Exactly." I stole a moment to memorize how he looked just then--so handsome, so happy, so very close up. Could things get any better? "Is this--" I pointed from myself to him "--going to cause problems for you at home?"

"Not if we lay low."

My heart sank just a little. "So you want me to be your secret girlfriend?"

"For now. Do you mind?"

Sensing his sincerity, I gave his question the consideration it deserved. While I understood that he wanted to avoid conflict, how could I not be who I was? And if he really cared about me at all, shouldn't he be willing to fight for us? "Honestly, I don't know."

His shoulders sagged slightly. "Just think about it, okay?"

"Okay."

Cooper drove me to my car not long after that. During the ride, neither of us said a word, though he smiled every time he caught me stealing a look. We parted with a kiss that held so much promise I instantly began considering giving the role of secret steady a try. The moment I walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, Mom handed me one of those phone message slips on which Dad had written
call Tyler
. I ran upstairs to do it, more than ready to crash for a few minutes before dinner.

He answered first ring. "Did you see how Brynn acted when I fell today?"

I thought back. "Um...yes?"

"She's not sweet on me, is she?"

Hedging, I answered his question with one of my own. "Why do you ask?"

"Things would be way weird if she was."

"Because you can't think of her that way?"

"Exactly." He'd never sounded so relieved.

"I honestly don't know." I didn't lie. Brynn's moods changed as often as the weather.

He groaned. "I hate shit like this."

"And so do I, which is why you should try not to worry about it. That could make things even weirder. Meanwhile, I'll try to find out how she really feels."

Tyler seemed to see the sense in that, so by the time we said our goodnights, I could tell he felt better about everything. Unfortunately, I didn't. How on earth was I going to tell Brynn that he'd taken himself out of the running for possible boyfriends? Rejection was rejection, even if the news was delivered by a friend who loved her, namely me, and she wasn't even sure how she felt about the guy.

On Tuesday I tried to get her alone without making a big deal about it. Did Tyler give me any opportunities? Of course not. He was as stuck to us as Marty had been to that dang baseball of his.

And as for Marty...well, he'd clearly told the dead-grandma-contacts-grandson tale to anyone who'd listen. Wow, did I ever get some looks. I got questions, too, none of them specific until a girl I barely knew from chemistry, Cyndi Caplan, dragged me aside at lunch time. I'd been on my way to the caf to meet Brynn in hopes we could get two seconds of privacy before Tyler showed up.

For that reason, I was a little distracted and not really tuned in to Cyndi until she said, "Is my sister in hell?"

Whoa.

I stopped walking to really look at the girl standing next to me, a slender brunette with tears in her big blue eyes. Opening up my heart and mind, I felt the presence of another girl, probably a couple of years older. Tammy? No, Tanya. Images began slamming me so fast that I really only saw one thing clearly: the movie poster for
Girl, Interrupted.
That meant suicide. Abandoning my usual method of presenting spirit info, which was sharing something I couldn't possibly know to gain trust, I got right to the point. "Tanya is with you right now, and when she's not, she's with God."

Cyndi burst into sobs. Of course I hugged her.

"She loves you so much and wants me to tell you that she's very sorry she was so selfish. It wasn't your fault, and you couldn't have done anything to save her."

She pulled back, tears streaming down her flushed face. I held onto my own composure, always hard to do in the face of such grief.

"Really?"

"Really. And she's telling me that it's okay for you to wear her watch. In fact, she wants you to, especially if it reminds you of her."

She glanced at a blinged-out watch on her wrist, one with a zebra-print strap and lime green CZs. "It does! Oh my God. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

With a huge smile, Cyndi left me. I took a couple of deep breaths to regain my equilibrium and then turned toward the caf doors. Someone's death grip on my upper arm stopped me in my tracks.

Elouise Shock, one of Martinsburg High's history teachers, glared at me through her tortoise shell glasses. "Come along, young lady. We need to talk."

I let her lead me into an empty classroom a few doors down the hall.

With a toss of her salt-and-paper pageboy, she got right to business. "How dare you tell Cyndi that her sister is with God? That's not only blasphemy, but you've given her false hope that will only destroy her once she realizes it's not true."

Yikes. I tried to ignore her peacock blue eye shadow and chose my words carefully. "I told her nothing but the truth, based on what her sister told me."

"Her sister is dead."

"Yeah, well, I'm a medium, so--"

Miss Shock's gasp cut me off. She placed fingers with fuchsia nails on the floppy bow of her dated turquoise blouse. "You must resist this. It's evil, and the church clearly states..."

Her words faded until they were nothing but background noise I could barely make out. The reason? A male presence with a boutonniere had begun to hover. Yeah, the one from the Halloween dance. Had this teacher been his date at a dance long ago? I suddenly knew she had. I also knew something really bad had happened the night he wore that tux.

"Miss Shock, did you go to prom with a guy named Richard Carter? I mean Clark? Richard Clark."

The color drained from her face. Her gaze narrowed. "How could you possibly know that?"

"And were the two of you in a wreck on the way home?" The spirit, now very clear to me, shook his head. "No wait. You were going to the lake."

She gasped and stepped back from me. From the corner of my eye, I saw that someone had come into the room. I flicked a glance in that direction. Cooper. Why was he there?

"Richard--oh, you called him Ricky Joe--wants you to know that the accident wasn't your fault even though you were the one that suggested parking at the lake. The tire would've blown out no matter where you two went. It was his time to go."

Miss Shock didn't answer. I could see her whole body trembling, which scared me a little. I didn't want her to have a heart attack. Though I thought about ending my improvised session, I knew I had to finish it.

"He wants you to know that he still loves you. He also says it's time to move on. You should definitely go out with...Ted." Was that Theodore McDaniel, school librarian and bowtie aficionado? If so, he and Miss Shock were a perfect match.

For several seconds, she just looked at me. I saw her lips move, but no words came out. Was she happy? Sad? Totally pissed?

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