Shooting Stars by Allison Rushby Read Free Book Online Page B

going to be introducing myself with my nickname here, am I? And that’s one bonus to going undercover most of the time— no one’s ever sure what the real you looks like.
    “Great! It’s just you I’m picking up from this fl ight, so let’s go. Can I take your luggage? Or your backpack?”
    “No, it’s fi ne.” Instinctively, I grab onto my bags. I have a lot of expensive equipment in there. I’d been worried it would be confi scated, but Melissa had assured me it wasn’t the kind of place where they need to check your belong-ings. The only thing they were worried about was cell phones, 48
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    and they had some kind of interference system to keep them from working. At least this made me feel a bit better about the drugs and alcohol thing— she must have been telling the truth about that if there was no frisking of bags going on.
    “Okay then, if you say so. I’m Brad, by the way. I’m one of the group leaders.”
    “Mmmm.”
    “You’re not sure about coming to stay with us, are you, Josephine?”
    No, Brad, I am not. I am not sure about coming to stay with you at all, I want to tell him. The truth is, I’ve already located every exit in the vicinity and am wondering which is the shortest route out of here. Instead, I shoot him a smile.
    “I’m sure it will be lovely. And, please, it’s just Jo.”
    “That’s the spirit, Jo!” He nods. “You’ll have a great time.
    Really reconnect with yourself. You’ll see.” I wish. Somehow I’m guessing the only thing I’ll be connecting with is my evil side . . .
    ★ ★ ★
    It takes around a half hour drive in the minivan to get to the retreat. Brad and I spend most of the time in silence. I’m glad he simply points out landmarks, rather than quizzing me on why I’m headed to the loony bin.
    I gulp when the large black electronic gates click shut behind the minivan and we start down the long driveway that 49
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    must lead to the retreat itself. Or I’m hoping it does. Either we’re headed for the retreat, or I’ve just joined a cult.
    “Ner vous?” Brad turns to look at me, sitting in the pas-senger seat.
    I shake my head. “Not really,” I lie, before confessing the truth. “A little.”
    Brad chuckles. “It’s totally normal to feel ner vous. But don’t worry. You’ll be right at home in no time.” I seriously doubt that. “I hope so,” I reply, looking out the window. At least the retreat has one thing going for it— it’s gorgeous. All lush and green with lots of rolling lawns and a thick, dark patch of woods off to one side.
    “Here we are.” Brad pulls up in front of a large, low modern-looking building, all glass and slate. “I’ll just grab your bag and we’ll fi nd your room. I bet you’re itching to meet your roommate.”
    I pause. “I have a roommate?” That’s not going to make things easy workwise.
    Brad nods. “I think you’re with Katrina in room twenty.
    She’s a great girl. I’m sure you’ll get along.” I guess we’ll have to. I try not to roll my eyes as Brad heads around the back of the van. Thanks again, Melissa.
    I jump out and follow Brad and my bag inside the sliding glass doors of the main building. We pause for a second in the foyer, and I am instantly hit with the smell of cafeteria meets institution—mass-produced food and disinfectant.
    And it’s quiet inside. Too quiet. All I can hear is the ducted 50
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    air- conditioning breathing overhead, like a watchful dragon.
    I move my head from side to side. No one is in sight.
    “It’s Group A’s meeting time,” Brad picks up on what I’m thinking. “It’s usually a lot noisier than this. Believe me, a lot noisier.”
    Good, I think to myself. Because it’s going to have to be a whole lot