Supernatural Summer by Skye Genaro Read Free Book Online

show!"
    I winced. The psychics on television were regularly blasted as con artists. And a telekinesis show? Just shoot me now.
    "People would call you a liar and always try to prove you were tricking them."
    Her eyes widened. "Maybe I could mix up a brew to give you telekinetic ability. Then you'd see how cool it is."
    "No!" I said.  
    "A potion to make you see auras?"
    I let out a frustrated grunt.
    "Fine. You want to know if I can expel a power. I could probably find a reversal potion."
    I finished lunch while Becca talked about the websites she used to search out potion recipes. For a fleeting moment, I was tempted to tell her about my problem and ask her to fix it.
    But if her potions actually worked—which I doubted—then they could just as easily backfire. And if the person mixing a reversal potion subconsciously wanted the opposite to happen...I shuddered to think of the awful consequences.
    I thunked my knuckles on my forehead. What was I thinking? Becca's belief in magic only existed to fill a gaping hole in her life.
    Becca's parents and older siblings treated her like a baby. If Becca had any real power, she'd have gotten her driver's license a year ago and talked them into buying her a sporty little car.
     
    *****
     
    The final bell rang and Becca and I walked to the second-hand BMW that my dad bought me. I’d asked for a car more my style, like the rusted out Volkswagon Beetle we owned in Seattle, but he was trying so hard to make up for uprooting me that I finally gave in to the super cute, light blue convertible with a black roll-down top.
    "Ewwww!" Becca said, when she saw my car.
    A slimy green substance was smeared across my windshield.
    "Raquelle needs to get a life. I can't believe she's still harassing you. Did you report her to the principal yet?" Becca asked.
    "I can't prove it was her, so there's nothing they can do."
    "It was her fault the two of you got suspended, not yours. And her fault you fell over the banister."
    "Doesn't matter. She's not going to quit until she brings me down."
    "You nearly went in to a coma because of her. You could have been killed." Becca said, as the windshield wipers cleaned off most of the slimy mess.
    Sometimes I wondered if that would have been better. Ever since I woke up from the coma, I was plagued with these new abilities. And there was more.
    While I was knocked out, I'd had a vision—or was it a dream?—and it was coming back to me in flashes now. I shoved it out of my mind, before it cloaked me in its feeling of impending doom.
     
    *****
     
    The sun came out so I rolled down the convertible top for the drive home. West Vista, Portland's ritziest neighborhood, is perched on a hill overlooking the city. My stepmom, Kimber, won her gorgeous, three story white house in a divorce settlement. When my dad married her over the summer, we'd relocated here from Seattle. My dad travels the world for his company, Bennett Global Imports. While I'm glad business is booming, I miss him terribly.
    As I wound my car up the slope I couldn’t help but be taken in by the view. Portland spread across the valley below and then continued on the other side of the Willamette River. White clouds brushed the handful of skyscrapers downtown. On the far edge of the horizon, the glacier-covered Mount Hood jutted eleven thousand feet into the sky.
    "You want to come over for homework?" Becca asked.
    "Nah, I've got a…research project to do."
    I dropped Becca at her driveway and drove across the street to Kimber's house. Kimber's schedule was packed with trips to the spa and days at the country club. She'd been gone all day but I still had to brace myself against her manic energy.
    I flipped open my laptop and pushed up the magnetic bracelets that I wore, six on each wrist. I’d read that magnetic fields could disrupt energy fluctuations so I'd bought the bracelets online. At first, they kept my tele-chaosing in check. But now, either the bracelets were wearing out, or—and this