Читать онлайн «Existence»

Acknowledgments

I have to start by thanking my kids, who tolerated the dirty house, lack of clean clothes, and my mood swings, while I wrote this book. They are my world.

My best friend, Monica, who once again read it from start to finish in less than twenty-four hours in all it’s rough draft glory to give me her opinion.

My mom, Becky, who tells anyone who will stand still long enough about my books and where they can find them. Her unconditional support means the world to me.

My dad, Joe, who passed on the ability to spin a story to me. He doesn’t get acknowledged for this often enough but I am incredibly thankful for this gift.

The Paranormal Plumes:

Without this bunch of amazing authors I don’t know where I’d be. They aren’t just authors whose stories I adore but they’ve become friends I truly love. The advice, encouragement, last minute editing, and all other forms of support I get from this group is priceless.

Chapter One

Don’t look at him and he’ll go away. I chanted in my head, as I walked toward my locker. It took an extreme amount of willpower not to glance back over my shoulder. Not only would alerting him I could see him be pointless but it would also be stupid. The halls were already full of students. Although, if he’d followed me inside the school I would have seen him easily enough through the throngs of people. He would stand out just like they always did, unmoving and watching.

“GAH! Have you seen Leif? I mean honestly can he get any hotter? Oh, yes he can. ” Miranda Wouters, my best friend since elementary school, squealed as she grabbed my arm.

“No, I haven’t seen him.

“Honestly, Pagan, I don’t get how you can be so immune to such intense hotness. ”

I managed a genuine laugh and slipped my bag over my shoulder. “Hotness? You didn’t just say hotness. ”

Miranda shrugged, “I’m not an endless well of descriptive words, like you are. ”

I chanced a peek over my shoulder. The halls were full of normal people, living people. They were talking, laughing, and reading over their schedules. It was all very real. I let out a sigh of relief. This was the first day of my senior year. I wanted to enjoy it.

“So, what class do you have first?” I asked, relaxing for the first time since I’d spotted the dead guy lounging outside on the picnic table staring directly at me.

“I have Algebra II, blah! I so enjoyed Geometry last year. I hated Algebra my freshman year and I can already feel the negative vibes coming from my textbook. ” Miranda’s dramatic flair for life never failed to make me smile.

“I’ve got English Lit. ”

“Well, we all know you’re loving that. OH, look, look, look, there he is,” Miranda managed to squeal in a hushed tone while nodding her head toward where Leif stood talking to other football players.