Free Confessions of a Teenage Psychic by Pamela Woods-Jackson Page B

like it’s nothing!”
    “No, it’s not nothing , but I really don’t know what you want me to say.” Mom wraps me in her arms, making me feel safe again. “You’re shaking,” she whispers. “Come sit down.”
    I allow myself to be led to a chair and collapse into it, relieved that the worst is over.
    “Our little psychic medium,” coos Sybil. “Bethany, your little girl here is growing into her powers.”
    I roll my eyes. “The next thing I know, you’ll be trying to send me off to Hogwarts!”
    They just aren’t taking this seriously. I stand up, grab the clipboard, and stomp over to the bookshelves to start the inventory, shedding my sweatshirt as I go. Suddenly it’s very warm in the store.
    A couple of hours later, Mom comes out of the storeroom and says, “I’ve had enough tea. Caryn, would you mind making a Peterson’s run? Sybil? Do you want anything from Peterson’s?”
    Sybil calls back, “Well, I’ve got to watch my girlish figure, but bring me a sticky bun and a latte.”
    I put my sweatshirt back on, pocketing the money Mom gives me, and slip out the front door headed around the block to Peterson’s. It’s now about noon and the sun has come out, warming the air considerably, but it still isn’t what I’d call balmy. People are out and about in Rosslyn Village— parents with babies in strollers, couples arm-in-arm, storekeepers sweeping walkways. Everyone is taking in the brisk fresh air or just enjoying the sunshine. I smile and breathe in the autumn crispness.
    Everything is perfectly normal .
    But it isn’t normal. I shudder and try to forget my encounter with Uncle Omar as I walk quickly into Peterson’s Coffee Emporium.
    It’s crowded inside, nearly every table filled, the perfect weather for hot coffee. I walk up to the counter and give the barista my order, then because I know she had a fight with her boyfriend this morning and she’s in a bad mood, I let my gaze wander around the store, trying to avoid the negative feelings the barista is dispensing with every order.
    In a booth in the back a pretty teenage girl is having a heated discussion with the teenage boy who’s frowning at her. Barbie and Ken, I dub them. She’s a brunette with a sporty ponytail and designer jeans, a white long-sleeved turtleneck, and a pink sweater tied around her shoulders. He has perfectly groomed blond hair, chiseled features, and a golf sweater worn over a stiffly-starched collared shirt.
    I try not to pry, but I know they are breaking up due to his wandering eye. I feel like I’m eavesdropping, even though I can’t hear a word they’re saying. I turn my back on them and pretend to look at the display rack of assorted coffees and teas for sale, still trying to tune out the barista’s bad mood and the argument in the corner.
    “Hey Caryn!”
    I turn to see Megan walking in with a young woman I don’t recognize. “Caryn, this is my sister Caroline.”
    Caroline offers her hand. She’s about twenty-five and looks like an older version of Megan— petite, slender, strawberry-blonde hair, warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Caryn… ?”
    “Alderson,” I finish for her as I shake her hand.
    “Oh, you’re the new girl from Texas,” Caroline says.
    “And you’re the ad executive,” I answer, then bite my lip. Did Megan tell me that?
    Caroline looks a bit surprised, but then smiles and says, “Well, that’s a slight exaggeration, but I do work for an ad agency.”
    “And your other sister— is she sleeping in?” I ask. Naturally both Megan and Caroline look surprised at that question.
    Filter your mouth, Caryn! That vision of the piano-playing sister was only in your head.
    “When did I… ” Megan starts, then shrugs.
    “Oh, Allie never gets up before noon on Sundays,” Caroline says with a laugh. “Megan, I’m going to go get our coffee.”
    “Okay.” Turning back to me, Megan says, “Caroline and I were out for a walk but we got cold. What are you doing