Confessions of a Teenage Psychic by Pamela Woods-Jackson Page A
Authors: Pamela Woods-Jackson
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concerned at all that I’m making excuses to go talk to another guy, and he heads off looking for Jeremy. Quince drops Kensi off next to Ashleigh and Connor, and walks over to the refreshment table where I’m waiting for him.
“What do you want?” Quince isn’t going to make this easy for me.
“I… I know it’s been a while but, well, I’m really sorry for what I said at the Halloween Carnival.”
“That was totally bogus what you said about my mother,” he says, scowling at me.
“I know and I’m sorry,” I say again.
The look on Quince’s face says he doesn’t buy my apology. “And who told you my mother was sick anyway? It’s private family stuff.”
Not wanting to get into the hows and whys of it all, I simply say, “Can you forgive me and be friends again?”
It’s Christmas time and maybe the holiday spirit is getting to him, or maybe he knows a sincere apology when he hears it, but anyway he shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Whatever.”
It’s the nicest thing he’s said to me in weeks. I smile at him, my heart pounding wildly as I reach out to touch his hand.
Quince quickly pulls away. “Kensi’s waiting. See ya.” And off he goes to find her, leaving me standing there alone.
Well, at least we’re back to speaking again .
I hadn’t seen or talked to Annabeth since Thanksgiving, but Megan surprised me the Saturday before Christmas by calling and asking if I wanted to go to the mall with her and Annabeth. A bona fide offer to do normal teenage stuff— without spirits, drama, or psychic premonitions— was something I couldn’t pass up. Also I wanted to buy Mom a Christmas present with the money Dad sent me, and frankly I had no idea how I was going to do that unless someone gave me a ride. Megan’s sister Caroline offered to drive us. It seemed as if the Universe was aligning to solve my problem for me.
Malls are exciting places to be during the Christmas shopping season, even though I don’t usually like crowds. I tell myself to tune out the unwanted information, sing a song maybe or focus on a cute pair of shoes, but some of it gets through anyway. There’s a hot guy who’s about to surprise his girlfriend with an engagement ring for Christmas. A little girl just told her daddy she wants a kitten, and even though he told her no, I see him going to the shelter next week to get one. There’s the sweetest elderly couple walking along hand-in-hand about to celebrate their golden wedding anniversary on December 25. And I see a grandmotherly woman, who I’m pretty sure isn’t of this world, walking alongside her daughter and granddaughter as they window shop. Like I said, I can’t tune everything out, but at least I’m getting happy vibes here at the mall today.
Tinsel, twinkling lights, and ornaments dangle in the walkways and rafters, while decorated trees and wreaths adorn every store entrance. Then of course there are the department store aisles that are crammed with extra display tables of merchandise, all with suggestions for the perfect gift. Seasonal music is getting shoppers in the mood to open their pocketbooks, and in a convenient, central location, Santa sits on a throne in the middle of a miniature North Pole, surrounded by bored young women dressed as elves.
The line of little kids trying to sit on Santa’s lap snakes halfway down the mall, and some of the kids are tired and cranky. Still, I love all the holiday sounds— even screaming kids— and smells of gingerbread and peppermint. The mall has the blown-in, fake snow surrounding Santa’s Village, something I was used to in Houston, but outdoors the real stuff is sitting on the ground. This is the first time in all my life I’ve seen real snow in December.
Megan, Annabeth, and I walk up and down the crowded mall, peeking into store windows and shoving past hawkers in the temporary kiosks. I’m having a hard time trying to decide what to buy for my mother. The choices may be unlimited,
“What do you want?” Quince isn’t going to make this easy for me.
“I… I know it’s been a while but, well, I’m really sorry for what I said at the Halloween Carnival.”
“That was totally bogus what you said about my mother,” he says, scowling at me.
“I know and I’m sorry,” I say again.
The look on Quince’s face says he doesn’t buy my apology. “And who told you my mother was sick anyway? It’s private family stuff.”
Not wanting to get into the hows and whys of it all, I simply say, “Can you forgive me and be friends again?”
It’s Christmas time and maybe the holiday spirit is getting to him, or maybe he knows a sincere apology when he hears it, but anyway he shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Whatever.”
It’s the nicest thing he’s said to me in weeks. I smile at him, my heart pounding wildly as I reach out to touch his hand.
Quince quickly pulls away. “Kensi’s waiting. See ya.” And off he goes to find her, leaving me standing there alone.
Well, at least we’re back to speaking again .
I hadn’t seen or talked to Annabeth since Thanksgiving, but Megan surprised me the Saturday before Christmas by calling and asking if I wanted to go to the mall with her and Annabeth. A bona fide offer to do normal teenage stuff— without spirits, drama, or psychic premonitions— was something I couldn’t pass up. Also I wanted to buy Mom a Christmas present with the money Dad sent me, and frankly I had no idea how I was going to do that unless someone gave me a ride. Megan’s sister Caroline offered to drive us. It seemed as if the Universe was aligning to solve my problem for me.
Malls are exciting places to be during the Christmas shopping season, even though I don’t usually like crowds. I tell myself to tune out the unwanted information, sing a song maybe or focus on a cute pair of shoes, but some of it gets through anyway. There’s a hot guy who’s about to surprise his girlfriend with an engagement ring for Christmas. A little girl just told her daddy she wants a kitten, and even though he told her no, I see him going to the shelter next week to get one. There’s the sweetest elderly couple walking along hand-in-hand about to celebrate their golden wedding anniversary on December 25. And I see a grandmotherly woman, who I’m pretty sure isn’t of this world, walking alongside her daughter and granddaughter as they window shop. Like I said, I can’t tune everything out, but at least I’m getting happy vibes here at the mall today.
Tinsel, twinkling lights, and ornaments dangle in the walkways and rafters, while decorated trees and wreaths adorn every store entrance. Then of course there are the department store aisles that are crammed with extra display tables of merchandise, all with suggestions for the perfect gift. Seasonal music is getting shoppers in the mood to open their pocketbooks, and in a convenient, central location, Santa sits on a throne in the middle of a miniature North Pole, surrounded by bored young women dressed as elves.
The line of little kids trying to sit on Santa’s lap snakes halfway down the mall, and some of the kids are tired and cranky. Still, I love all the holiday sounds— even screaming kids— and smells of gingerbread and peppermint. The mall has the blown-in, fake snow surrounding Santa’s Village, something I was used to in Houston, but outdoors the real stuff is sitting on the ground. This is the first time in all my life I’ve seen real snow in December.
Megan, Annabeth, and I walk up and down the crowded mall, peeking into store windows and shoving past hawkers in the temporary kiosks. I’m having a hard time trying to decide what to buy for my mother. The choices may be unlimited,
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