Chapter One

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Chapter 1

"We are going to be starting a new project today," my English teacher started, as she passed out a handout.

 Numerous groans were circled throughout the room. I didn't mind. I love to write, it takes my mind off of things.

"For this one you get to research any subject, it could be and occupation like Firefighting, or an animal, like a tiger. Anything you want." Ms. Cafola is one of my favorite teachers this year.

It doesn't help that the majority of the male teachers I have are total creeps. I quickly scribble down the word ghosts on the handout, and I feel my phone buzz in the pocket of my jeans.  

The guy sitting in front of me pivots in his seat and draws a smiley face on my paper as he says, "What are you going to do the project on?"

 I glance up and tell him that I'm not completely sure, which isn't a lie, but not the truth. Just then the bell rings and we all file out of the classroom in an amoeba-shaped mob of hungry teenagers. I sling my bag over my shoulder and leave.  

I entered the bathroom and strolled to the nearest stall. I whipped out my phone and read the text. It was from my evidently bored friend Riley in woodshop. "I'm so bored...What's up in English?" I quickly typed back. "I'm out of English...almost to our table." I swept my Honey colored hair behind my ear and put my bag back on my shoulder as I walked to where I usually sit for lunch.  

My whole group, which consists of about 15 people all squeal, "Scarlett! Did you hear?" I sit down at the end of the table and stare at all of my friends.  

"Obviously not," I reply, completely clueless. Luna, one of my closer friends, lowers her voice and says,  

"Brandon is having a huge party on Saturday!"

 I let go of my breath, just realizing I had been holding it, awaiting this news which had not surprised me. Luna looks at me through dark brown eyes under her dark brown hair, awaiting my reaction. Brandon was every girls dream. But he was a total jerk. I don't see why any of my friends would want to go to this party. Well, that's what I tried to tell myself. But then I looked across the room to see Brandon, gorgeous blue eyes and chestnut hair and realize that he was pretty good looking. I rolled my eyes and said sarcastically,  

"And?"

 Riley, who is by far my best friend, catches on quickly. She has pretty blue-green eyes, and curly blond hair that doesn't go below her chin. She twirls a blond curl as she says, "This party is going to be bigger than all of his others. He actually invited US!"

 I roll my eyes and take a bite of my burger. They didn't know that I was invited to almost every other party he has had this year (I didn't go), and I don't plan on telling them. After I finish my burger the bell rings its incredibly annoying electronic DING DING DING. I get up and wave to my friends. As I head to French, a hand taps me on the shoulder. I turn my head and look up to see Brandon gazing down at me from those gorgeous blue eyes. His eyes aren't that deep shade of blue, but the lighter shade of blue that makes your stomach do a back flip.  

"Scarlett, right?" He actually looks sincere.  

"Yeah," I respond.  

"So, uh, you know that party I'm having? Well, I really wanted you to come to this one." He looks at me hopefully, like he was a dog and I had a treat in my pocket. I have never seen him like this.  

I raise my eyebrows and look at him in the eye. "Fine. But just this once." His face instantly goes back to I'm-so-much-better-than-you and turns around and leaves. I walk into French and sit in my seat. After an hour long lecture of Le passé Composé, (The past tense) the bell rang to go home.  

I walked home and climbed the stairs to my room. Just then I got the chills, and butterflies filled my stomach. I said aloud, "Can I help you?"

Now before you start jumping to conclusions, let me tell you something. I'm no normal teenage girl. I'm a clairsentient teenage girl. For those of you out their that don't know what that means, I am very sensitive to things. I can sense ghosts, and communicate with them. I can close my eyes in pinpoint someone's exact location if I am familiar enough with a building. This also makes me extremely empathetic. If someone is sad, I literally feel their pain. That's why people come to me for advice, I can put myself in someone's shoes and feel what they feel. This is why I hate it when someone tells me that, "You don't know what it feels like." Try feeling everyone's emotions at once!  

The second I made that ghost aware that I knew she was there, she left. That's good, I wasn't in the mood to play medium. I texted my friends and told them I was going to the party. Though I had an extremely bad feeling about it.....

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