Spiritdell Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

a swirly pattern in the stucco, and some plastic glow-in-the-dark stars from when I was younger. The stars are pale green and cheap-looking in the morning light.
    “Try me,” she says.
    It's only going to sound crazier the longer I delay, so I let it out. The whole poking confession. I have some sort of weird power, and when a girl puts her finger in my belly button, I can see into her future, which doesn't seem so bad, but I always find something unappealing.
    “It's not great for dating,” I conclude.
    “So you're picky,” she says with a laugh. “You're young, so what. Nobody's getting married at your age anyways.”
    “You don't understand. It's, like, magic .” I turn to face her reaction.
    She laughs into her hand. “Zan, you're not a wizard. You don't have to make up some outlandish excuse. We met and we had a rather unexpected but pleasant evening together.”
    “I'll say.” My cheeks feel hot; I must be blushing.
    She puts her cool hands on my cheeks and gives me the softest kiss on the mouth. She leans back, resting one elbow on the pillow, and says, “Let's take this one day at a time, okay?”
    “That's my plan. I'm not going to look, ever again. No more poking.” I make an emphatic hand gesture to punctuate my new plan.
    “You could get your belly button sewn up,” she says with a sly smile.
    What's happening here? Is she playing along, or making fun of me?
    She walks her hand, using two fingers as little legs, across the sheet toward my stomach.
    I shift my body back, but she keeps advancing.
    Now she's definitely mocking me. I'm such an idiot for opening up to her. She's probably going to tell her cousin, who'll tell everyone else.
    Her hand sneaks closer.
    “Don't,” I say, pulling the covers up. “I don't want to know the future.”
    “Look at you, you're so serious,” she says. “Listen, I don't have anything to hide. I just met you and spent the night with you, so you already know I'm a big ol' tramp. There's nothing else, except for the severed heads I keep under my bed.”
    “Severed heads aren't so bad,” I say, trying to match her lighthearted mood.
    “My mother stopped buying me Barbie dolls because I decapitated them all. I swear, I've reformed.”
    “I don't know if I feel safe alone with you!” I joke. “I'm rather attached to my head.”
    “Of course, there is one thing ... unusual.” Her expression flattens and she looks away, out the window, as though there's something to see besides clouds.
    “Do you want some breakfast?” I ask, even though I don't want to leave the bed.
    She fluffs her pillow and curls up on her side. I've been trying so hard to be polite and keep my eyes above her neck, but they sneak down disobediently. I have a funny, smart girl in my bed, and she's in her underwear. I shouldn't have a single care in the world!
    But, I don't know her. Who is Austin? Maybe I should look into her—get her to poke me so I can see her future, her secrets. It may be best to break the spell now, before she smashes my heart to bits later.
    “Breakfast, hmm?” She runs her hands along her sides, then puts her finger into her own belly button. Her eyes flutter. “I'm getting a vision of us eating cold cereal because that's all you have in the house.”
    “No, I have bagels. Cinnamon raisin. Plus dill cream cheese. Best combination ever!”
    She wrinkles her nose.
    “Seriously, you have to try them together, cinnamon and dill. I have everything in the fridge.”
    “Shouldn't put bagels in the fridge, they go stale. Don't you know? Oh, of course you don't, you're so young.” She gasps and sits up. “Oh God. How old are you? You have, like, almost no chest hair. Oh God.”
    “I'm fourteen,” I say.
    Her eyes get watery and her lip trembles, as though she might start to cry.
    “Joking, I'm seventeen,” I say. “What, do I look fourteen?”
    “This was kind of a bad idea,” she says, shaking her head. “I should go.”
    “No, don't.” I grab her hand and