by Sara Hantz
WRITTEN IN THE STARS
Sara Hantz
Copyright © 2018 by Sara Hantz
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by X-Potion Designs
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Afterword
Also By Sara Hantz
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
“MOM SAID THE ATV’S DEDUCTIBLE IS SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS,” Tara says, as she charges into my dorm room.
“But I don’t have seven hundred dollars.”
My heart pounds against my ribcage, and I drop down onto the edge of the bed. This is beyond crazy. I know Tara’s mom couldn’t start the ATV, after I crashed it at the weekend when I drove on their ranch, but surely the damage wasn’t so bad it cost more than the deductible.
“You’ll have to tell your parents,” Tara says, giving a resigned sigh.
They can hardly manage to pay my boarding school fees at the moment, thanks to the accountant screwing up their tax returns, leaving them owing thousands to the IRS. I can’t land this on them, too. They might decide to take me out of school. Which would be catastrophic. I love it here, even if some of the school rules are really annoying. Being here saved me from having to move school every three years, when Dad was posted to yet another country, with the air force. It wasn’t too bad when I was younger, but the older I got the more stressful I found having to make new friends.
If I had to leave school, I’d lose Tara, my best friend. Also, I’d never see Dan again.
Not that Dan even knows I exist, other than through Tara, since he’s a friend of her family. Dan’s captain of the football team, and is in the year above us. He’s the hottest guy in school.
And he’s not seriously dating anyone at the moment.
“No way am I telling Mom and Dad.” I bite down on my bottom lip. “You know the money-pinch they’re in. We’ll have to think of something else.” I get up from the bed and walk over to the window. My dorm room looks out onto the quad, and I can see some of the ninth graders playing ball.
Transport me back to ninth grade someone, please. Life is so much easier when you’re fifteen.
“When does your mom want the money?” I shift my gaze to Tara, who’s staring in the mirror.
“Well, after your convincing sob story about not wanting to worry your parents, she felt really sorry for you and said she’ll wait until the end of the trimester, which is ten weeks.”
Tara turns to face me, grinning. Except I can’t grin back. Her mom could give me ten years to pay the ATV deductible, and I’ll still never be able to afford it.
“That’s like finding seventy dollars a week. You got any ideas how? Because I’m fresh out.” My body tenses.
If only I could have a do-over day, then I’d see the hole, instead of driving into it. No. Forget that. I’d refuse to take the wheel, when Tara asked me if I’d like a turn driving.
Tara leans against my dorm room desk, her eyes full of concern. “Don’t worry,” she says gently. “We’ll raise the cash. All we need to do is think of something,”
Normally, I love her can-do attitude, but right now I’m not feeling it. “Like?” I ask, a flicker of anticipation coursing through me. She’s usually more resourceful than me, so here’s hoping she can think of something. “Um... Um... Like...” She twists her dark curls around her fingers, and frowns. “See. There is nothing. I’m totally screwed.” Tears form in my eyes and I blink them away.
“Look, Megan. You’ve got to be positive. I’ve told you before, if you think about something hard enough, it will happen. Now let’s will our minds to come up with a plan.”
“You and your positive vibes.” I shake my head, then reach for a cushion from the bed and throw it at her. It hits her in the face.
Tara grabs it and throws it back, only it misses, slides across my desk and sends my favorite silver bangle flying across the room.
“Sorry,” Tara says, as she scrambles to pick it up.
“Hey,” I say, inspired by the bracelet. “I’ve had an idea. Why don’t I sell some of my things on eBay to raise the money?”
“What things?”
“My bangle for starters.” I reach over, and take it from her.
“But your parents gave it to you.”
“I know... I know.” I scan my room. “There must be something else.” I open the drawer to my desk and stare in. “This?” I hold up my diamante key-ring shaped in the letter ‘M’.
“No. I gave that to you.”
“Everything I own was given to me by someone, since I have so little money to buy myself anything.”
I drop the key-ring into the drawer and push it shut.
Why is this so hard?
I sit down on my bed and rest my head on my arms. It’s an impossible situation. My life is totally screwed. I feel the ball of hopelessness settle in my belly, as I imagine being pulled from school and starting all over again.
“I’m sure we can think of something else,” Tara says, sitting next to me, and resting her arm around my shoulders.
I draw in a long breath. It’s impossible. “Maybe,” I mutter.
“Come on. Let’s go to Starbucks. I’ll pay. We might bump into Dan.”
I pause for a moment. “Actually, no. I don’t think Dan is there today.”
I glance at Tara, who’s staring at me with her mouth open. “What’s wrong?”
“Watching that far-away expression on your face, before you said about Dan, just gave me an idea.” She jumps up from the bed, a broad smile crossing her face. “Psychic dating advice. We’ll sell psychic dating advice to raise money. Cool idea, or what?”
“I don’t understand. How can we offer dating advice, psychic or otherwise? Sure, we’ve dated guys in the past. But it’s hardly enough to offer advice.”
We’ve been best friends since starting high school but sometimes I totally miss her point.
“You know how you always have feelings about things, and are always right?” I nod my head, slowly. “Instead of keeping these feelings to yourself, and only telling me, you can share them with anyone who wants to pay. We’re going to make a killing. I’m telling you.”
“But I’m not psychic.” Well, not in the traditional sense of the word.
“Okay, you’re not psychic. So how do you account for all the times you know things that you couldn’t possibly know?”
She’s asking me the question I’ve asked myself hundreds of times over the past few years.
I’ve had strange visions and feelings for as long as I can remember. It’s like they just appear in front of my eyes. Sometimes the meaning is obvious, like the time when I knew my aunt had been involved in a car accident. Other times, it’s not so clear.
No one knows, apart from Tara. I don’t want people to think I’m a freak. It’s not like the visions happen on a regular basis. I can go months without having one, and then have two or three in a week.
“I don’t want to. No.”
>
“But why not? Just think for a moment. If you can give advice to girls in the boarding house, about guys they want to hook up with, where’s the harm in that? And if they pay you, everyone’s happy. It’s a win win situation.”
Tara and her win win situations. I often wish I could be as positive about everything as she is. But I can’t. Of the two of us, I’m the cautious one.
“It’s too embarrassing. What if someone wants to know something, and I don’t know the answer? Then what?” I lock eyes with her. “I’ll tell you what,” I continue before she has time to reply. “Everyone ends up hating me because they think I tried to screw them out of their money, just so I can pay my bills.”
Tara sits down on the edge of my bed. “Look, you’re not thinking straight. For a start, if you can’t get one of your feelings about someone, then make it up. No one will know. We needn’t say the money is for the ATV. We could say it’s for charity. Who’s to know that you’re the charity in question?”
My jaw drops. “I can’t say it’s for charity, and then take the money. If I get caught I’ll be expelled.”
A shiver shoots down my spine, as thoughts of Mom and Dad’s reaction to that horrific situation careen through my head. The scenario seems as horrible as telling them about the ATV.
Somehow Tara’s win win situation is looking pretty much lose lose.
“Yeah, I guess getting expelled is a risk. A small risk,” she argues. “But apart from that?”
Small risk my backside. My school doesn’t take things like that lightly.
“I don’t know. Lying to everyone. Our friends. That’s not good. Not to mention what Dan would think if he found out.”
“You won’t be lying. I bet you get feelings for everyone. You’re offering a service—one they’d have to pay loads for elsewhere. That’s if they could even find someone to do it. And all you’re going to charge is... um... ten dollars. What do you reckon?”
“If the deductible’s seven hundred dollars, that means I’ll have to sell seventy readings. That’s a lot. Maybe we should make it fifteen instead of ten.”
A smile spreads slowly across Tara’s face. “Does that mean you’re going to do it?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“But you must have nearly decided, if you’re thinking about the money. I’ll help. I know I can’t give the advice, but I can help spread the word.”
“If Mrs. Johnson finds out, we’re totally screwed. You know how seriously she takes being Head of Dorm Faculty.”
“She won’t find out. We’ll only tell girls who can keep their mouths shut,” Tara says.
I’m really not sure. If I’ve got the gift, surely I’d be more confident in its success. And I’m not.
“If I do agree, I’ll have to practice first. I’m not convinced what I do counts as being psychic.”
“Okay. That makes sense. During library study period, tomorrow, we’ll plan it more. We can also get some ideas on how to channel your powers, you—”
“Channel my powers? I keep telling you, I don’t have powers. I’m not like those people on TV, who get in touch with dead people. You’re seriously overestimating what I can do.”
I’ve Googled in the past about having visions, but didn’t look too deeply. My way of dealing with it, I guess. I didn’t want to know too much, in case I didn’t like what I learned. But even if I admit that I’m a bit psychic, it’s not in the way Tara thinks.
“Let’s just give it a chance. We’ll do the research and then make a final decision,” Tara says.
“I guess. I just can’t help thinking that I’m heading toward the biggest freakin’ mistake of my life.”
Chapter Two
“MEGAN. TARA. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? You’re meant to be working in silence.” Mrs. White, our school librarian, makes me jump with her question.
I quickly minimize the screen, leaving a page on worms. “Sorry, we were discussing our mid-term biology assignment,” I reply.
“Oh.” The shock in her voice is evident.
Hardly surprising, since our biology assignment isn’t due in for ages. Which, under normal circumstances, would mean pulling an all-nighter a couple of days before the due date, like most others in our class.
“Yes.” I wriggle in my seat, and smooth out my skirt.
“Worms,” she says, leaning in between the two of us and making me gag her perfume’s so strong. “Interesting. Do you know, if you cut a worm in half, the head end will grow another tail?” Luckily, she steps back from the screen, and I manage to grab a breath.
“No. I didn’t,” I say.
“Well, I won’t disturb you any longer.” She turns and leaves us.
“Come on,” I say to Tara, pulling up the psychic site. “There’s a lot to read. And so many long words. I don’t know what half of them mean.” Unlike Tara.
We may sometimes be slackers, when it comes to school work, but she has this amazing vocabulary.
I can’t believe the number of websites there are on being psychic. The way they talk, it’s like everyone in the whole world is psychic. Just some are better at it than others.
“So, would you call yourself clairvoyant, clairaudience or clairsentience?” Tara asks.
I frown. “No idea. I didn’t know there was a difference. I’ve only ever read about clairvoyance before.”
“It says here: clairaudience is the ability to hear or perceive sounds which are not normally audible. Is that you?” Tara asks.
We’ve discussed my ability before, but always in vague terms—I didn’t want to come off as a freak. I wouldn’t have mentioned it at all, if she hadn’t seen the way I act when I have one of my visions. This is the first time I’ve gone into any depth at all.
“If it means hearing voices, then no. That’s definitely not me.” I shake my head.
Of course, I’m not counting the voices in my head, which sound like my mother, when I’m up to no good. I don’t know how she can make me feel guilty without ever having to be up close, or actually speaking.
“Okay. What about clairsentience?” Tara asks, cutting into my thoughts. “That’s to do with knowing an event, past present or future through a feeling. You definitely get those, don’t you?”
“I guess.”
“And we know you’re clairvoyant, which is extrasensory perception of an event which is not present to the five senses. So I reckon...”
“Ohhhhh. Well, that explains it.” I interrupt her, as I’m sidetracked by something I’m reading.
“What?”
“This.” I point to the bottom of the screen.
“In order to see future events,” Tara reads. “A psychic has to detach themselves emotionally. So?”
“That’s why I couldn’t predict the crash. It says underneath that it’s hard to be psychic about your own life.”
Not that I’ve ever tried to predict anything about my life before. Except maybe my future with Dan, which also came up relatively empty. I haven’t consciously tried to predict anything else. Things come to me. I don’t go to them.
Tara nods her head, her brown curls bouncing from side to side. “You know, I wondered why you didn’t know in advance about the accident. It also explains why you haven’t managed to avoid any trouble we’ve got into over the years.”
I burst out laughing. “It’s probably more to do with me not being properly psychic. I’m totally untrained, and—” I pause, as suddenly it hits me. We’re kidding ourselves if we think I can pull this off. All the sites talk about how it takes time to develop your psychic ability properly.
I pick up the pencil by the side of the computer and bend it until it snaps.
“Megan, what the—”
“This is stupid. I can’t do it. All these psychic people say you must practice. What chance have I got to do that?” I fold my arms tightly across my body, ignoring the jagged end of the pencil digging into my ribs.
“Look, how hard can it be? You’re already getting feelings about people, and
that’s with no practice at all.”
“But I don’t get these feelings all the time. And not to order, either...” The sound of the school bell, signifying the end of the period, interrupts me. “We’ll talk at lunchtime.”
I close down all the websites we’ve been in, and reach for my bag under the chair.
As we stand, Tara links her arm through mine. “Don’t worry, it will all work out.”
I wish she’d stop making it seem so easy. There’s got to be a catch in here somewhere. We just haven’t found it yet.
“Hey, Megan.” My heart skips a beat, at the sound of Dan’s deep, warm voice.
His dark blond curls are damp, and frame his face, just covering his ears. I’m guessing he’s had sport. He smiles, and two of the cutest dimples form in the center of his cheeks. His hazel eyes have gold flecks, and are totally mesmerizing.
“Hi,” is all I can manage to say.
How does he do this to me? Would it be a crime if something witty came out of my mouth? He must think I’m so boring.
He holds open the door into the dining hall, and I walk in. Before I have time to say thanks, he heads to where a group of guys are sitting at the back. I scan the room looking for Tara, and see her in the corner sitting with Liv and Robyn, two girls from our year. She looks up and smiles when she sees me, beckoning for me to come over.
After grabbing my lunch, I make my way over to where they’re sitting.
“Hey,” I say, as I approach. “Are you saving this seat for anyone?” I look at Liv, who’s sitting next to the empty seat.
“Surely you already know that.” She grins at me, and nods meaningfully.
My head jerks to the left, and I lock eyes with Tara. She flushes and mouths sorry. It’s meant to be a secret. How come she’s told Liv, of all people? She may be our friend, but everyone knows she can’t keep a secret, even if her life depended on it.
