by MB Mulhall
As she waited on her front steps, Darcy thought back to the past couple of weeks of her life. Things at school had gotten significantly better for her. The play, which had to be postponed after the “incident”, had lost their makeup artist and Chaz talked Darcy into helping. She found she loved doing it and the people involved were really friendly and thankful she was able to step in last minute. Without Rich or Libby around, she felt safer walking the halls. People even smiled at her and greeted her in the mornings now. She finally felt she was fitting in. She wondered if the new look she was rocking that day would help more or have people thinking she caved to conformity.
A familiar little red car pulled into the drive and Jazz leaned out the window, giving her a loud wolf whistle.
“Looking good hot stuff! Come sit on Jazzy’s lap. I’ll give you a special ride into school.” She winked at Darcy before wincing as her brother smacked her in the back of the head.
“Mine.” Darcy heard him growl at his sister before opening the door and unfolding his long legs. He stood tall, leaning against the car as he gave her the once over. Just his gaze could get her libido going. She wondered if that would ever fade away. She certainly hoped not.
He pushed his lean frame off the car and walked to meet her as she headed down the stairs. They met in the middle, just looking at each other. Judd gave her that wolfish grin she loved so much.
“At least my sister has great taste and a good eye. You look fantastic.” He reached out and stroked her smooth, for the day, toned down auburn hair. Mandy had taken Darcy the night before for a good cut and color and then loaded her up with products to style it. Darcy was head over heels with the finished product. She didn’t know she could look so good.
Her face felt a bit funny as the cool fall air touched her bare skin. Gone was the white face paint and black drawn on eyebrows and smile. She was back to being natural with just a touch of mascara and lip gloss. Darcy was surprised at how light it felt. When she was painting her face, it always felt kind of heavy. A constant reminder that she was different weighed down by her issues and problems. Judd’s hand travelled down to cup her smooth cheek. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“No longer a Juggalo?”
“Oh, I’ll always be an ICP fan, but I don’t think I need the constant makeup anymore.”
“Why is that?” Judd ran his finger over her lower lip, disrupting her train of thought. She shook her head slightly to get back on track.
“I started wearing it because I felt I needed to fit in, be a part of a family of sorts again.” She looked over at Jazz and then back at Judd. “I don’t think it’s necessary anymore. Not when I have you guys.”
Judd gave her that blinding smile before leaning down and whispering in her ear.
“But you’ll still put it on, on occasion, right? For me?” His hot breath on the delicate skin of her ear sent shivers through her body.
“Only if you’re good,” she said with a sly grin.
“Ooooh I can be more than good,” Judd said taking her face in his hands as he leaned down to kiss her passionately. The kiss lingered on until Darcy’s head swam from lack of oxygen. Jazz’s impatient honking finally broke them apart.
“Come on lovebirds, we’re going to be late.” Darcy looked around Judd and smiled at his twin, who winked at her again. Turning her attention back to her boyfriend, Judd had an expectant look on his face.
“Well?” he asked. She smirked.
“Not bad, but you could use some more practice. Your place, after school?”
“Yes ma’am. I think that can be arranged.” He grabbed her hand and led her towards the car.
“Good. ‘Cause you know what they say,” Darcy said squeezing his hand, “practice makes perfect.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Oh the list is long for the people to thank on this one. First and foremost, thanks to Olav F. for the Café conversation about YA trends. Without that conversation, the idea of Darcy, the girl with the clown makeup, would never have been born. Thanks to his lovely wife Kat as well because if she wasn’t writing, he probably wouldn’t have been having the discussion with me in the first place!
Thanks to my self-proclaimed number one fan Meredith S.! Your enthusiasm and love of the story and characters was always welcomed with open arms. Your comments helped push me to finish the story.
Thanks also to my other two prolific comment posters, John A. and Patricia L. John, you always got my jokes, which made me sigh in relief. Your comebacks were awesome too. Patty, your love of Jazz rivals no other! I love that you weren’t afraid to tell me when I crossed the cheese line. Also tons and tons of thanks for all your beta and editing work. You know you’re my favorite writing partner. I’ll have to remind Santa to get you a Team Jazz shirt for the holidays!
Ahh my army of beta readers. Thanks to Krista D. (look I got it right!), Steph D. and Debbi S. It’s nice to know I’ve got some folks always willing to read my stuff, even when it’s in the crappy beginning stages.
Special thanks to Pamela D. and her hubby Devin for being on the lookout for all things Juggalo and especially for Pamela’s keen eye for detail. You know I need that. Also, thanks for agreeing to portray Darcy forever in “film”. Not many friends would be down with that.
More thanks than I can offer to Kristine R. for going above and beyond in her editing job to research things for me and give honest feedback about formatting and racy bits.
Thanks to Danielle Corso for working on the original cover and for understanding when I needed to change it.
Many thanks to Mallory Rock for putting up with my nitpicking and helping me come up with a cover better suited to the story and it's genre!
Thanks to my mom for doing the final read through and catching all those lingering little annoyances.
Lastly, thanks to the readers who made it all the way through and didn’t get too disgusted when it hit the bathroom jokes!
MB Mulhall is an author and a budding photographer. When she’s not pecking away at her keyboard or looking at the world close up through her lens, she’s got her nose stuck in a book. A Jersey girl born and bred, she spends much of her time scouring the boardwalks and local Starbucks for images to capture and conversations to overhear. Tears of a Clown is her second published novel. Near Death, a YA novel with a paranormal twist, being the first. Staying Alive, the sequel to Near Death is due out in 2013.
Connect with the author:
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5126807.M_B_Mulhall
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/MBMulhall
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MBMulhall
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B006M5JKIU
Click to continue on to read the first chapter of MB Mulhall's YA paranormal novel, Near Death
Chapter 1
Chaos reigned as the school bell’s ringing tone lingered in the emptying classroom. Students scrambled to pack up their belongings, many haphazardly shoving items into their bags so they could get out. Inane chattering flowed from the room and into the halls. The lessons of the day already forgotten as social lives took priority.
Head bent, long dark hair covering her face, Aya carried her books in her arms as she headed out of the room. The towering Jackson Moore, in his haste to chase after a group of giggling girls, knocked into the all but invisible Aya, sending her books to the floor. He stopped for a second to collect himself before leaving the shell shocked Aya to pick up her fallen things. From behind her, an arm snaked out and deftly grabbed Jackson.
“Hey, Jack! You could at least say sorry,” said a voice from behind her.
Jackson mumbled what Aya could only assume was an apology and bounded out of the room calling after the girls.
Turning to see who the arm belonged to, Aya found herself staring at the friendly face of Gabriel Santos, someone much higher up on the popularity scale than her. He bent down, scooping up the rest of Aya’s fallen belongings.
“Sorry about that. He’s a jerk sometimes
. You’re not hurt, are ya?” Gabriel asked.
Unable to speak, Aya shook her head, hiding her hot face under a curtain of hair.
“Good, good.”
Aya’s hair slid back as she lifted her head slightly, her face continued to blaze bright red as he looked at her. Unable to take the scrutiny she spoke.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” She swiped at nonexistent crumbs and smudges.
Gabriel let out a laugh. “No, nothing on your face. I just realized how cute you are under all that hair.”
Aya ducked her head and mumbled a quiet thanks.
“Gotta jet to practice, see ya tomorrow,” he said handing Aya her things. He waved goodbye as he walked away. Aya was too stunned to even return the gesture.
Sara, head cheerleader, homecoming queen, and miss popularity was waiting for him by the door. She laughed loudly.
“Gabe, you shouldn’t tease poor Aya like that. She looks like a tomato!”
“I wasn’t teasing her,” Gabriel said.
Sara looked him in the eyes. “You cannot be serious, Gabriel.”
“And if I am? Why would you care?” he asked, annoyed with her comments.
“Oh stop being so serious. It’s good you’re finally getting over me,” Sara said with a smirk.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Gabriel said, waving her away. “I’m gunna be late for practice.”
Sara leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, making sure Aya saw the exchange. She smiled in Aya’s direction before parting ways with Gabriel.
There was a sudden sharp pain in Aya’s chest as she watched the exchange between the high school royalty. Sighing, she looked at her watch and realized she was going to be late getting to the elementary school to pick up her little brother. She grabbed the rest of her things and darted off.
Jackson loved every aspect of basketball; the sound of squeaking sneakers, girls cheering, gruff coaching coming from the sidelines. He loved the swooshing sound the ball made through the net when he scored, the sweat rolling down his face, and the breeze he felt as he traveled from one end of the court to the other. What wasn’t there to love about the sport? It got him praise, prestige, and of course, girls.
He was the typical high school jock; star of the varsity team, well known as a player, both on the court and with the ladies. Although he towered over most of his fellow classmates at 6’3”, his striking good looks got him more attention than the height did. His sandy brown hair was flecked with golden highlights and his eyes were a warm chocolate brown. He was muscular but well proportioned. As far as personality goes, Jackson was loud and brash. Everything was a sexual innuendo to him, not an unusual thing for a guy his age. He liked to play dumb, but got relatively good grades.
“Okay, guys. Good practice for today. Hit the showers,” the coach called to the players.
Jackson grabbed his towel from the bench to wipe the sweat off his brow. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a boy standing by the door to the gym. He looked vaguely familiar, but Jack couldn’t recall ever seeing him at the school before. The boy was of medium build with short blond hair and eyes so bright and piercing that Jackson had to squint a little when he looked at the stranger. As he took a step toward the boy, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Earth to Jack. What are you staring at?” His teammate waved a hand in front of Jack’s eyes.
Jackson turned his head to look at his friend, and when he looked back to the door, no one was there.
“Do you know that guy over there?” Jackson nodded toward the doorway.
“What guy? There’s no one there.” The friend shook his head.
Jackson tried to shrug it off as no big deal, but he couldn’t get the image of the boy out of his head. Where had he seen him before? Why hadn’t his friend seen him? His train of thought was interrupted when he saw something flying through the air towards him.
“Drink that. You must be dehydrated if you’re seeing things,” his friend said laughing as Jack caught the sports drink.
“Oh please,” Jackson said. “The day I’m seeing things is the day you can send me to the funny farm. Let’s go hit the showers man, you freakin’ stink. I can smell you from here.”
Laughing the boys headed to the locker room.
After leaving Gabriel, Sara headed over to the softball field. When she got there, her friend Marisol was in her typical tomboy mode, picking fights with the umpire.
“You’re crazy, man! She was totally safe!” Marisol yelled.
“I said she’s out, and if you’re not careful, you’ll be out of the game!” the umpire yelled back.
“You better get your eyes fixed man…,” she said under her breath as she stomped back to the dugout.
Sara rolled her eyes at the familiar scene. Leave it to Marisol to get in the face of authority.
“If she wasn’t so damn cute, I’d swear she was a dude,” Sara mused to herself.
Even though she was a tomboy, Marisol was still a beautiful girl. Her short dark hair, done in a pixie cut, showed off her delicate features. Her dark eyes blazed with fury over the umpire’s bad call. Marisol was the female version of Jackson; tall, lithe, athletic. The guys, the ones who weren’t intimidated, worshipped her. She had her fair share of suitors, just like Jackson.
Sara couldn’t help but think for the millionth time that, although Marisol and Gabriel were twins, they couldn’t be more different. Gabriel was the shy, quiet, serious type while Marisol was outgoing, opinionated, and obnoxious. The only things they had in common were their athleticism and strong devotion to one another. Fighting amongst themselves was allowed, but heaven help the outsider who fought with a sibling. No one could deny they loved each other.
Sara sat in the stands waiting for the game to end. Despite the umpire’s bad call, Hillendale won 6 runs to 4. Marisol was ecstatic and even gave the umpire a hug. He shook his head, smiling, as he walked away.
“Fab game, as usual,” Sara said, walking up to Marisol.
“Of course it was. I was in it!” said Marisol.
“Tell me again how you got all the egotistic genes in the family?” Sara tried not to roll her eyes.
“I was the lucky one, of course,” Marisol replied. “My brother wishes he was as great as I am.”
“Oh, I don’t think he’s half bad.” Sara raised an eyebrow.
“I suppose he couldn’t be the captain of the tennis team if he wasn’t any good,” Marisol admitted. “Of course, he could have gotten the position due to his pretty boy looks. I swear some of those guys on the team are crushing on him!”
Sara laughed. Marisol was forever picking on Gabe, saying he was too pretty to be a boy. It was a sure way for the two of them to get into a fight.
“Don’t let him hear you say that!” Sara said. “He still hasn’t forgiven you for putting make-up on him while he was sleeping on the bus that time.”
“Ha! He just doesn’t want to admit how hot it made him look,” Marisol said.
Sara sighed. “I have to admit, he looked pretty, but don’t you DARE tell him I said so!”
Marisol threw her head back and laughed.
“I knew I liked you for a reason Sara. Shame things didn’t work out for you two, but at least it brought us together.”
“True.” Sara smiled. She stretched her hands above her, slowly turning her head from side to side. As she looked to the left, she saw an extremely pale skinned blond-haired boy with incredibly green eyes standing behind the bleachers. Without drawing too much attention to herself, Sara whispered to Marisol.
“Do you know who that is?”
“Who?” Marisol looked around.
“Don’t be so damn obvious about it!” hissed Sara. She cocked her head in the direction of the bleachers. “That guy over there, the one behind the bleachers, have you seen him before?”
Marisol looked over and saw the boy in question. She stared at him, trying to figure out if she knew him from somewhere.
“He looks familiar, but I do
n’t know where I know him from. You want me to call him over?”
“No!” Sara said. “There’s something weird about him….Let’s get out of here. Gabe should be done with practice by now anyhow.”
“Okay…,” Marisol said, but she found she had a hard time pulling her gaze away from the strange boy.
“Come on, let’s go.” Sara dragged Marisol away by the arm. She had a strange feeling about the boy and didn’t want to find out why. So, she proceeded to tow Marisol back toward the school.
“You’ll have better control over the serve if you put your hand here,” Gabriel said to a sophomore, positioning his hand for him. The boy changed his grip and served the ball.
“Better, keep practicing it.” Gabe walked away to watch a match between two of his starting teammates.
While watching the game, he heard footsteps come up behind him. Thinking his sister was coming over to scare him, he turned around quickly to catch her. He immediately took a step back, finding himself face to face with a very pale boy.
“Uh. Sorry. Thought you were someone else,” Gabriel said.
The boy continued to stare.
“Hello? Anyone in there?” Gabriel waved his hand in front of the boy’s face.
With lightening quick speed, the boy grabbed his hand.
“You can see me?!” the boy asked, surprise threaded through his voice.
“Of course. You’re standing right in front of me.” Gabriel narrowed his eyes.
“You’re not supposed to be able to see me! Why can you see me?” The boy panicked.
“Look dude, I don’t know what your problem is, but can you let go of my hand? People will get the wrong idea.”
The boy, suddenly realizing he was grasping Gabriel’s hand, let go as if he had touched something hot.
