Here's the blurb:
Caryn Alderson just wants to be a normal teenager. Moving from Houston to Indianapolis and trying to make new friends is hard enough, but when she meets Quince Adams, Rosslyn High School’s star athlete, she wants more than friendship. Unfortunately, two obstacles stand in her way: Quince's girlfriend, cheerleader Kensington Marlow, and Caryn's Uncle Omar. So what’s the problem? Kensington’s cheating on Quince, and Uncle Omar died in Vietnam at age 20!
Imagine hearing voices, seeing spirits no one else can see, and knowing things about people they never told you. No wonder Quince and all her new friends think she’s weird! Then, just when Caryn thinks her psychic abilities are under wraps, her friend Megan blurts out the truth on television. Can Caryn finally admit her secret and just be herself? Does she really have a choice?
Here's the excerpt:
I take one last look in my locker, hoping I’ve got everything. My biology book is shoved in sideways, blocking my algebra book, my sketchbook is buried under some math homework I never turned in, and my color-coded class notebooks are now in a pile on the bottom, next to a wrinkled Texas A&M sweatshirt. It’s easier to just keep most of my stuff in my book bag because I don’t feel like digging through the clutter most of the time. I sigh, slam the door shut and hurry to class.
“Hi, Caryn!” Emma looks really tired, like she didn’t get much sleep last night. “I wanted to ask you…”
“About your algebra test?”
“Yeah, right. Well, I was wondering if, well, if you thought I’d…” She sighs.
I guess she’s decided not to ask me if she’s actually going to pass it, and instead just looks at me sheepishly and says, “Wish me luck, okay?”
“Sure, good luck,” I say, knowing all too well she’s going to need it.
Sometimes I wonder, Why me? Most days are okay I guess, but, see, I’m fifteen years old and everyone thinks I’m weird because I know stuff. I don’t mean smart kinds of stuff, I mean things I have no way of actually knowing, but pick up on anyway. Sometimes it’s a gut reaction, sometimes it’s just images, like a movie-of-the week on fast-forward in my brain, but once in a while I just know something and it comes spilling out of my mouth before I can stop it.
Click here to continue reading the Prologue.
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