Read Online Nothing Like You by Lauren Strasnick - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lauren Strasnick
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dry on his shirtsleeve. “See you around,” he said, sucking at the last of his cigarette and chucking it into a baked little patch of crud on the ground.
Chapter 15
I spent my open block fifth period sitting on the basketball court, folding and unfolding that psychic’s business card. FRAN K GELLAR: PSYCHIC MEDIUM . I read the words over and over again. Then I riffled around in my bag for my phone, which I found and fondled for one solid, excruciating minute before working up the nerve to finally dial.
“Hi, this is Frank …”
blah blah blah
… My call had gone straight to voice mail. “Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can. Thanks and god bless.” I’d expected a pretty pervy-sounding guy. For him to sound the way most new-age dudes around Topanga sound—super breathy and sexed out. Frank, though, just sounded old.
“Hi,” I chirped in response to the mechanical beep. “My name is Holly Hirsh. I got your number from—” and thenI realized I didn’t know the name of the woman I’d gotten his card from, so I said, “well, I got your number and was hoping to make an appointment to … well, I was hoping to make an appointment.” I left my cell number before hanging up.
So Frank was old. I found this comforting.
Old Fran
k
,
I thought, feeling triumphant. I’d called! I’d done something proactive! I’d taken a step in a direction that would lead me somewhere really terrific. Or enlightening. Or something.
In the car after school with Nils and Nora, I told them both what I’d done.
“Jesus, Holly. I thought we talked about this.”
“So? You think every action I take has to be filtered through you? I can make my own decisions.” I turned up Pawnee Lane. “It felt right.”
“Oh, well … if it
feels
right.”
Nora reached into the backseat and slapped Nils on the thigh. “Don’t be a dick, I think it’s great.”
I glanced to my side. “You do?”
“Yeah. I love that guy on TV. What’s his name? Who helps all those people talk to their dead family members? There was this one episode where this lady’s son had killed himself and she was just really hysterical, like, crying and crying. But then her son came through in the reading and talked about this little private joke they’d had about Gruyère? You know,the cheese? And the lady was just, like, at
peace
after that. Really amazing.”
I glanced back at Nils in my rearview. He was shaking his head.
“Do you have, like, specific questions you wanna ask the guy?”
“Specific questions?”
“Yeah, like, I mean, do you want to ask your mom something specific? Or maybe you want to ask about your future? I always want to know about my love life. My cousin took me to this guy once who does Tarot. Incredible. So crazy accurate. He totally predicted I was gonna date this guy—I can’t tell you
who
because you guys sort of know him—but anyways, I did, I dated him. And he had predicted our problems and everything. So crazy.”
I pushed down on the brake, then shifted the car into first. “I don’t have any specific questions, I don’t think. I just want to know if she exists still.” I turned into Nora’s driveway and pulled the car to a stop.
“Well, good luck, Holly. Let me know how it goes.” Nora got out of the car. Nils stayed put. “You coming?” she asked. She was standing in her driveway now, one hand resting on her hip, her body bent over so she could see inside my backseat.
“I don’t feel great,” Nils said, stepping out of the car and onto Nora’s pebble paved driveway. “I’ll call you later.”
“You’re seriously not gonna come in?”
Nils opened the passenger side door, then slid in next to me. “I’ll call you,” he said again.
She nodded. But then she just stood there. I waved sheepishly, pushing down on the gas, watching her shrink smaller and smaller in my rearview the
Chapter 15
I spent my open block fifth period sitting on the basketball court, folding and unfolding that psychic’s business card. FRAN K GELLAR: PSYCHIC MEDIUM . I read the words over and over again. Then I riffled around in my bag for my phone, which I found and fondled for one solid, excruciating minute before working up the nerve to finally dial.
“Hi, this is Frank …”
blah blah blah
… My call had gone straight to voice mail. “Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can. Thanks and god bless.” I’d expected a pretty pervy-sounding guy. For him to sound the way most new-age dudes around Topanga sound—super breathy and sexed out. Frank, though, just sounded old.
“Hi,” I chirped in response to the mechanical beep. “My name is Holly Hirsh. I got your number from—” and thenI realized I didn’t know the name of the woman I’d gotten his card from, so I said, “well, I got your number and was hoping to make an appointment to … well, I was hoping to make an appointment.” I left my cell number before hanging up.
So Frank was old. I found this comforting.
Old Fran
k
,
I thought, feeling triumphant. I’d called! I’d done something proactive! I’d taken a step in a direction that would lead me somewhere really terrific. Or enlightening. Or something.
In the car after school with Nils and Nora, I told them both what I’d done.
“Jesus, Holly. I thought we talked about this.”
“So? You think every action I take has to be filtered through you? I can make my own decisions.” I turned up Pawnee Lane. “It felt right.”
“Oh, well … if it
feels
right.”
Nora reached into the backseat and slapped Nils on the thigh. “Don’t be a dick, I think it’s great.”
I glanced to my side. “You do?”
“Yeah. I love that guy on TV. What’s his name? Who helps all those people talk to their dead family members? There was this one episode where this lady’s son had killed himself and she was just really hysterical, like, crying and crying. But then her son came through in the reading and talked about this little private joke they’d had about Gruyère? You know,the cheese? And the lady was just, like, at
peace
after that. Really amazing.”
I glanced back at Nils in my rearview. He was shaking his head.
“Do you have, like, specific questions you wanna ask the guy?”
“Specific questions?”
“Yeah, like, I mean, do you want to ask your mom something specific? Or maybe you want to ask about your future? I always want to know about my love life. My cousin took me to this guy once who does Tarot. Incredible. So crazy accurate. He totally predicted I was gonna date this guy—I can’t tell you
who
because you guys sort of know him—but anyways, I did, I dated him. And he had predicted our problems and everything. So crazy.”
I pushed down on the brake, then shifted the car into first. “I don’t have any specific questions, I don’t think. I just want to know if she exists still.” I turned into Nora’s driveway and pulled the car to a stop.
“Well, good luck, Holly. Let me know how it goes.” Nora got out of the car. Nils stayed put. “You coming?” she asked. She was standing in her driveway now, one hand resting on her hip, her body bent over so she could see inside my backseat.
“I don’t feel great,” Nils said, stepping out of the car and onto Nora’s pebble paved driveway. “I’ll call you later.”
“You’re seriously not gonna come in?”
Nils opened the passenger side door, then slid in next to me. “I’ll call you,” he said again.
She nodded. But then she just stood there. I waved sheepishly, pushing down on the gas, watching her shrink smaller and smaller in my rearview the
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