Touch Page 5

  “I’ll do it as soon as we get home.”

  “Thanks. I um, got his number, so guess I’ll text him and give him our address if it’s okay for him to pick me up tomorrow night.”

  “If,” Mom said. “And that would give me a good chance to meet this young man and let my mother’s intuition do its thing again.” She smiled, and I spent the rest of the way home listening to old people’s music and Mom’s singing.

  • • •

  “We’re home, peoples,” Mom said as we got inside. “Finished the game of Monopoly yet? Did you win on my behalf, Serena?”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Delcarta,” said Damon, scratching his head. “But I sort of won.”

  “Beat me by only a few dollars,” added Mr. Jenkins, standing from the dining table.

  “It’s Rose, sweetie,” Mom said to Damon. “And congratulations.” She gave him a high five. “As for you,” she said to Mr. Jenkins, “better luck next time.”

  There was that feeling again. A fluttery feeling. That sense of something between those two. It would be cute if it weren’t so weird, what with her being my mom.

  “Where’s Savannah?” I asked.

  “She keeps disappearing to the kitchen,” Tamara said. “I’m starting to worry that she wants to take over my area of expertise.”

  “Not a chance,” Savvy said, emerging with a glass of water. “I’m just, um, thirsty.” Her voice was high-pitched and jerky. She glanced to the side and brushed something nonexistent off her shoulder, like she’d walked into a spider web.

  “That’s like the fifth glass you’ve had tonight,” said Sasha. “I’m surprised you haven’t been disappearing to the bathroom as well.”

  “Bathroom. Good idea!” As she passed me, my heart pounded a little and my nerves twitched.

  “What did you say?” asked Serena.

  “Huh?” I replied. “Savvy said, ‘Bathroom, good idea.’”

  “No, after that.”

  “Nothing. No one else said anything.” I glanced around, and the others shrugged or shook their heads.

  I furrowed my brow. Something was up.

  “Better leave you to it,” said Mr. Jenkins. “Damon, can I give you a lift home?”

  “Yeah sure, sir, that would be great.”

  “Mr. Jenkins, Damon. Sir makes me sound old.” He chuckled, and Mom did too.

  Damon pecked Serena discreetly and left with our neighbor-teacher-potential-future-step-father, and Savannah dashed back into the room. “Oh, thank God he’s gone!”

  “Savvy!” Mom said. “Show some respect, please.”

  “I don’t mean it that way!” Her eyes darted around the room. “His wife. His wife’s ghost was here!”

  Chapter 7

  I shivered. Our dad’s case was reopened, my psychic abilities had been broadcast on national television, the media was hounding me, I was strangely captivated by a guy I hardly knew, and now we had another damn ghost to deal with?

  The overwhelmed part of me wanted to drop and meditate for twenty, while the curious part of me wanted to find out more.

  I returned to the living room, where my family was gathering on the couches around the coffee table.

  “Was that who I heard?” asked Serena. “When you went to the bathroom?”

  “Yes,” Savvy replied. “She said: ‘Tell him now, before he leaves!’” Savannah leaned her elbows on her knees and rested her face in her hands, then held her palms out. “I mean, does she just expect me, while Mr. Jenkins is passing go and collecting two hundred dollars, to blurt out, ‘Hey, Mr. J? Your deceased wife is with us and wants me to help you find something you’ve been looking for’?”

  Mom shifted on the couch next to me, and her hesitation rippled through my nerves.

  “What did she ask you to find?” Mom asked.

  “She didn’t say, just that I had to tell him to go to the library and borrow a book. Not just any library, but the school library, and not just any book, but some old one called The Way It Is.”

  “Hmm, haven’t heard of it. Why is it significant?” said Mom.

  “She said that when he gets the book, he’ll find what he’s been looking for.”

  “Okay, so why don’t we go to the school library and borrow the book, and then accidentally leave it in science class?” suggested Serena.

  “It’s not the worst idea,” I said.

  “I agree,” said Tamara and Sasha.

  Savvy straightened up. “I never thought of that. Mom?”

  Mom fiddled with her necklace. “I don’t know. It seems a bit… forced.”

  “But then he’ll find whatever he’s looking for and his wife won’t freak me out with her presence again.”

  “But…” Mom looked up to the ceiling. “Listen, my darlings.” She exhaled deeply. “The thing is, I’m quite fond of Simon—Mr. Jenkins. And I think he is of me, too. But before things progress, I think I should come clean with him. About our unique family circumstances.”

  “You want to tell him about us being Delta Girls?” Serena squeaked.

  “Honey, I want him to know who I am, who I was, and how our life is different. It’s hard keeping secrets, and I’d rather him back away now if it’s not something he can handle, than later, when we’ve already—”

  “Ew, Mom, don’t even say it!” Savannah covered her ears, and so did Serena.

  “Oh, girls.” Mom flicked her hand. “I just think this could be the perfect opportunity. If we can help him with something, he might be more receptive to my revelation.”

  “Well, what does he think about my revelation on television?” I asked Mom.

  She shrugged. “I kept waiting for him to ask about it, but he didn’t. I casually asked if he’d seen the news report, and he nodded and then said ‘The media blows things out of proportion.’ He said that he doesn’t believe what he sees or reads, and that it was none of his business what happened to you, Talia, unless I wanted to discuss it.”

  Hmm. I didn’t know whether that was a good or bad thing. At least he didn’t invade my privacy. And even though he was one of our teachers, and our neighbor, I kind of liked him, and could understand why Mom did too. I just wanted her to be happy, and if he was a key to that happiness, then I hoped she would be able to unlock it.

  “Could be a good opportunity,” I said. “And also for you to tell Jordan, Sasha.”

  “Maybe.” Sasha shrugged.

  “Anyway.” Mom stood. “It’s getting late. Let’s sleep on all of this.”

  I stood too and thought of Marco. “Oh, Mom. That phone call, remember?”

  “Oh yes.” She glanced at her watch. “Guess it’s not too late. I’ll give her a quick call.”

  “Give who a call?” asked Sasha, but Mom already had the phone to her ear.

  “Hi, Lizzie, it’s Rose, Talia’s mother,” she said. “Sorry for the late call, but I wanted to ask your opinion. One of your students, Marco…” She glanced at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Rodriguez,” I said.

  “Rodriguez,” she repeated, “has offered to chauffer my daughter to and from art class as he also lives in our area. Can I ask, do you know much about him? I’d like to find out more before I agree to this.”

  All my sisters froze, eyes on Mom, heads angled toward her phone.

  “Can you hear her, Serena?” Sasha asked.

  “Shh!” I whispered.

  “Uh-huh,” Mom said. “Uh-huh. I see.”

  “What’s she saying?”

  “Sasha!”

  Mom cleared her throat. “Oh really? Interesting.”

  “What’s interesting?”

  “Sasha!”

  “Well, thanks Lizzie… yes, Talia’s enjoying the class… okay, bye for now.”

  “So?” said Sasha. “Who is Marco, and why did you not tell us about him before?” She looked at Mom. “And what’s this about him being a chauffer?”

  Mom gestured for me to speak.

  “Just a guy from my art class.”

  “Cute
?” Sasha asked with raised, perfectly groomed eyebrows.

  “Why is it always about being cute?” I asked. “Does it matter if a guy is nice and interesting and not cute?”

  “But is he?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Knew it.” She smiled.

  I looked at Mom. “What did she say?”

  Please say yes, please say yes.

  “Lizzie is friends with Marco’s mom. That’s how he came to be in the class. She’s known him since he was in diapers, apparently. Good kid, she says. Or man. He’s almost twenty.”

  “A bit too much information, but cool,” I said. “Thanks. So I guess it’s okay for him to drive me tomorrow?”

  “Guess so. My mother’s intuition isn’t sending me any warning signals. But if he decides to get over-the-top flirty or makes you feel uncomfortable, you know what to do, right?”

  “Punch him in the guts?” said Sasha.

  “Sash, no, darling. Tell him, ‘No thanks,’ and keep your distance.”

  “And if he doesn’t listen, then punch him in the guts,” Sasha whispered in my ear. “I can teach you some skills.”

  I shook my head. “Won’t be necessary. I can tell he’s a decent guy; I can feel it. Anyway, he’s just driving me to class, that’s all.”

  “And on the way you will talk and get to know each other. Unless he enjoys singing in the car like Mom,” Sasha said.

  Serena yawned. “I’m going to bed to read.” She peered at the window that had been repaired, then at the front door. “Is everything locked? Will the house be secure?”

  “Yes,” said Mom. “And the police said they’d drive by again later. Anyway, Simon is home, as are most of our neighbors. It’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

  “Wish we could find out who did it. Damn idiots,” said Savannah. “Oh look, Riley’s home!” She glanced through the window at the car headlights turning into his driveway. “Can I?” she asked Mom.

  “Ten minutes,” Mom said, tapping her watch.

  Savannah dashed out the front door, and I got out my phone to text Marco. Hopefully it wasn’t too late, but I thought it best to let him know as soon as possible that he could pick me up tomorrow, so he could plan ahead.

  I sat on the couch and texted:

  Hi Marco, a ride on Thursday night would be great. Thanks. Talia.

  I sat there looking at my phone for a few minutes. He’s probably gone to bed.

  I closed the text window.

  Beep!

  Marco had replied: My pleasure. Where shall I pick you up from?

  It felt weird to be giving out my address, but I typed in our street name and number, then asked what time to expect him.

  He replied back with the time and that he knew where our street was.

  I considered asking if he was psychic, but then it’d be like making a joke at my own expense. Instead, I said: Thanks for not saying “If you’re psychic then wouldn’t you already know what time I’d pick you up?” I’ve been getting a lot of that from people lately. ;)

  He replied right away: Idiots. ;)

  I laughed.

  The he sent another message: How do you respond to those people when they bother you?

  I replied: Nothing really. I just try to ignore them.

  Him: Is that working?

  Me: Not much. But I had today off school to give myself a break.

  Him: Maybe you need some witty comebacks to shut them up.

  I was about to reply that I couldn’t think of any (except the one I’d joked to Mom about, asking if they’d told their boyfriend that they had a sexually transmitted infection). But I was curious and impressed by the way Marco was treating me so normally and hadn’t even asked about the whole psychic situation. So I asked him: Do you believe in psychic abilities?

  That’s not a very good comeback, he replied with a wink emoticon.

  I giggled. Sorry, I was just asking you if you believed. I’ll think up some comebacks. ;)

  I’ll have a think too, he texted back. And yes, I do believe.

  Huh. Cool. But he didn’t know the whole story about my sisters, and I wouldn’t tell him. Even if he was a great guy, and my art teacher had known him since he was a baby, I couldn’t risk anything about my sisters getting out to the media.

  I thought our conversation would end there and that he’d tell me his comeback ideas tomorrow night, but he sent another message: Comeback idea #1: If some male idiot asks you to predict his future, just tell him he’ll suffer premature balding by the time he’s twenty-five and will require medical intervention if he’s to ever have another girlfriend.

  I laughed again, and Mom said, “Everything all set for tomorrow night then?”

  I nodded. “Yep. And he’s helping me with comebacks for people who bother me about the psychic stuff.”

  “Is that right?” Mom replied, dragging her words out suggestively. “Hmm. Well I look forward to meeting this young chap.” Mom smiled. “Night, girls.”

  “Night, Mom.”

  I texted back: LOL. Good one. :) And if they’re female?

  Marco replied: Same, or: There’s an awful zit coming your way real soon. Like, all red with pus and stuff. Actually, several of them.

  Love it, I replied.

  By the time I’d finished chatting to him via text and he’d suggested more comebacks, my sisters had all disappeared to their rooms or the bathroom. It was just me, alone in the dimly lit living room. Or was it just me? What if there was someone—or something—hanging around? Mr. J’s wife? Dad? The ghost of the arsonist’s mother who died in our house all those years ago? I hugged a cushion to my chest. Now I was freaked out.

  Lights moved in an arc through our windows and shone on the wall of the living room. I got up and discreetly peered through the drapes. The police car was slowly driving along Roach Place.

  It was okay.

  Everything would be okay.

  The robbery was probably a one-off, random thing. Wasn’t it?

  Chapter 8

  “Miss Delcarta,” said a reporter when I got to school the next day. “I’m from the newspaper. We’re doing a story on the Iris Harbor Teen Psychic, if you’d be so kind as to answer a few simple questions?”

  The Iris Harbor Teen Psychic? Wow. Just… wow.

  I ignored her and walked toward the gate.

  “We noticed you didn’t come to school yesterday,” she persisted. “Was that because you didn’t want any confrontations with the media or curious students?”

  I was about to keep walking when I remembered my text conversation with Marco about making comebacks.

  I stopped and turned to face the reporter, whose eyes brightened at the possibility of my cooperation. “No, I didn’t come to school yesterday because all the media attention has been so great for business, and I was doing back-to-back psychic readings via Skype that earned me… hmmm, let me think.” I tapped my chin. “Oh yeah, around two thousand dollars. So thanks. Thanks, media.” I looked her in the eye. “That could buy quite a few newspapers. But I might spend my money on more important things. A new hairdresser for you wouldn’t be a bad option.”

  Adrenaline coursed through my body as I swiveled on my feet and waltzed off to school.

  That felt good!

  I would have something interesting to tell Marco tonight. Either that, or he would see it on the evening news or in the paper.

  I thought that would be it, but by the end of the day, I’d used all the comebacks that Marco and I had discussed, and was feeling like I was on top of the world. And when I walked out of school to head home, Tamara by my side, Ben, the arrogant class clown from science, followed me out and asked: “Hey, psychic girl, did you know that your superpower was going to be revealed on TV, like, because, you know, you’re psychic?” He laughed at his question.

  With my newfound confidence, I turned and faced him, eyeing him without blinking. “Did you know that you were going to wake up today and be an idiot, like, because, you know, you’re an idiot
?”

  Tamara burst out laughing, but I simply held his gaze, his laugh subsiding as he stood there, speechless.

  One of his buddies laughed and slapped his back. “Ha, she got you good there, bro.”

  I walked off, and when we were out of sight of the guys, Tamara held up her hand and I high-fived it. “I like the new Talia,” my twin said.

  I do too, I thought. I do too.

  • • •

  “Any leads on the robbers?” Serena asked Mom as we finished our dinner.

  “Nope, no one saw anything, and the police don’t know who it could have been,” she said. “But I’ve installed some of those fake security cameras outside for now, so that should provide some reassurance that it doesn’t happen again. And anyway, whatever they were looking for, they didn’t find it, so there’s no reason for them to come back. All is good, I feel.” Mom smiled and gave Serena’s back a rub.

  “Your boyfriend is almost here,” Sasha said. “I can smell his car.”

  “He’s not my—”

  “Argh!” Savannah grabbed my arm. “God almighty, woman, do you have to appear out of nowhere?” My sister looked straight ahead toward the bookcase. “We’ll tell Mr. J—Simon—when we can, okay? Don’t rush us.”

  I eyed the empty space where Savvy’s gaze rested, my heart fluttering. Everyone stopped, watched, and waited.

  “She says he needs to find it soon, before Wednesday next week, as it’s an important anniversary for them.”

  “What kind? Their wedding anniversary?” Mom asked quietly, standing by her youngest daughter’s side.

  Savannah shook her head and kept her eyes straight ahead. Then her mouth fell open and she covered it with her hand. “Oh man. I didn’t know. Sorry,” she said.

  “What is it?” Serena asked. “Her voice is too quiet to make out what she’s saying? Hang on, is she… crying?”

  Savvy nodded. “Okay, I understand. We’ll do our best. Leave it with us.” My sister looked at each of us. “She’s gone for now.”

  “What’s the important anniversary, Sav?” asked Sasha.

  Savannah sighed. “The anniversary of their baby’s death.”

  Mom covered her mouth too. “I wasn’t aware Simon and his wife had had a child.”