Twilight by Meg Cabot Read Free Book Online Page B

attention to him.
    “This is stupid,” Adam declared. “How is this test going to determine whether or not I’m qualified for a career?”
    “It measures your aptitude , stupid.” Kelly sounded disgusted. “The only career you’re qualified for is working the drive-through window at In-N-Out Burger.”
    “Where you, Kelly, will be working the fryer,” Paul pointed out dryly, causing the rest of the class to crack up….
    Until Mr. Walden, who’d settled behind his desk and was trying to read his latest issue of Surf Magazine , roared, “Do you people want to stay after school to finish up those tests? Because I’ll be happy to keep you here; I’ve got nothing better to do. Now, shut up, all of you, and get to work.”
    That had a significant impact on the amount of chitchat going on around the room.
    Miserably, I filled in the little bubbles. My misery didn’t just stem, of course, from the fact that I was operating on zero sleep. While that didn’t exactly help, there was the more pressing concern than career aptitude tests. Yeah, they don’t much apply to me. My fate is already laid out for me… has been laid out for me since birth. I’m destined to be one thing when I grow up and one thing only. And any other career I choose is just going to get in the way of my true calling, which is, of course, helping the undead to their final destinations.
    I glanced over at Paul. He was bent over his Scantron sheet, filling in the answer bubbles with a little smile on his face. I wondered what he was putting down as fields of interest. I hadn’t noticed any entries for extortion. Or felony theft.
    Why, I wondered, was he even bothering? It wasn’t like it was going to do us any good. We were always going to be mediators first, whatever other careers we might choose. Look at Father Dominic. Oh sure, he had managed to keep his mediator status a secret… a secret even from the church, since, as Father D. put it, his boss is God, and God invented mediators.
    Of course, Father D. isn’t just a priest. He’d also been a teacher for years and years, winning some awards, even, until he’d been promoted to principal.
    But it’s different for Father Dom. He really believes that his ability to see and speak to the dead is gift from God. He doesn’t see it for what it really is: a curse.
    Except… except, of course, that without it, I never would have met Jesse.
    Jesse. The little blank bubbles in front of me grew decidedly blurry as my eyes filled up with tears.
    Oh, great. Now I was crying. At school.
    But how could I help it? Here I was, my future laid out in front of me… graduation, college, career. Well, you know, pseudo-career, since we all know what my real career was going to be.
    But what about Jesse? What future did he have?
    “What’s wrong with you?” CeeCee hissed.
    I reached up and dabbed at my eyes with the sleeve of my Miu Miu shirt. “Nothing,” I whispered back. “Allergies.”
    CeeCee looked skeptical, but turned back to her test booklet.
    I’d asked him once what he’d wanted to be. Jesse, I mean. You know, before he’d died. I’d meant what he’d wanted to be as a far as a career went, but he hadn’t understood. When I’d finally explained, he’d smiled but in a sad way.
    “Things were different when I was alive, Susannah,” he’d said. “I was my father’s only son. It was expected that I would inherit our family’s ranch and work it to support my mother and sisters after my father died.”
    He didn’t add that part of the plan had also included his marrying the girl whose dad owned the farm next door, so that their land would be united into one supersized ranchero. Nor did he mention the fact that she was the one who’d had him killed, because she’d liked another fella better, a fella her dad hadn’t exactly approved of. Because I already knew all of that.
    Things were tough, I guess, even way back in the 1850s.
    “Oh,” was what I’d said in response. Jesse hadn’t