Disclaimer: All characters are property of Meg Cabot. Not mine. Don't sue.
A/N: Please note that this story has been entirely redone. If you read it before, things have changed. The writing has matured as well, thankfully.
ALSO, For the sake of this story Twilight did NOT happen. This is post-Haunted.
I really didn't expect to move back to California after all of these years. Plus, I was kind of expecting that my parents would be alive, when we moved back to the Golden State. But here we are. My 13-year-old brother, Ali, and myself living with a new family.
Oh, and my name's Zohra Samnani. Or I guess it's Sanders now? I don't know—things are just a little bit confusing now. See apparently, the people I grew up calling my parents had adopted me. Did NOT know that until the will was read. Man, was that a double whammy that day. Finding out the day of your parents' funeral that you were adopted: crazy. Though it finally explained why I never felt like I fit in my family.
So the Sanders—my birth parents—had an open adoption for me, because they couldn't afford to keep me when I was born. My parents had raised me like their own daughter—complete with their culture and religion. What I also didn't know was that a couple of years ago my parents had agreed with the Sanders that in case anything was to happen to the both of them, my brother and I would live with them.
I found all of this out through the letter that was handed to me at the will reading. I was thinking my aunts and uncles would've been shocked to learn that we wouldn't be living with them, but I saw their guilt-ridden faces; they had all known. I felt betrayed, but that feeling didn't exactly linger since I had moved over the weekend back to my home state.
Let me tell you: that was one productive weekend. And awkward seeing as the Sanders had helped us pack up our belongings. No time for mourning. No. Just thrust into a new life with added responsibilities. The house had been placed for rent—which the Sanders would manage until I turned 18, our boxes packed and placed in the U-Haul, and my friendships pretty much severed.
As a seventeen year old, moving is one thing but combined with everything else my world was a whirlwind. Luckily, Dawson my boyfriend helped keep me grounded.
Huh. Never thought I'd be able to say that out loud.
See, my parents, didn't exactly know about Dawson. They didn't want me dating just yet. And they really would have preferred it if he was a Muslim like us (and no I didn't wear a headdress or anything). Except, you don't pick who you love. I had planned on just waiting till I turned 18 and coming clean. We had been together for over 2 years already so it was bound to last, right?
Anyways, we were going to try this whole long-distance thing especially seeing as he was my mentor in all of my supernatural responsibilities and whatnot.
Oh, right, you don't know about that. Well, let me explain.
I'm pretty sure I'm a tad bit psychic. Kind of like That's So Raven but I do NOT get that stupid look on my face, when I have a premonition. And before you give me this whole "why didn't you see your parents' death," it doesn't work like that. Some things the universe just wants you to experience normally, I guess.
Anyways, the Sanders had finally become financially stable—more than stable I would say—and so they had enrolled us in the Junipero Serra Catholic Academy. Problem? Not exactly, but an inconvenience I guess. My brother and I would manage with the different belief system. I was just hesitant about how the school was going to be. But seeing as the Sanders, who were Catholic, were pretty chill and the fact that the school didn't require uniforms, I'm thinking it wouldn't be that bad. I was thinking maybe life would get better.
But boy was I wrong.
Monday morning, I drove my brother and I to the academy since both the Sanders couldn't get out of work that morning. It was no big deal. Being a big sister was all about the responsibilities.
Once we arrived, ee were to meet with the principal, a Father Dominic, he had all of our schedules for us and had wanted to "properly" welcome us to the Academy.
Once we got there, the secretary told us to go on in to Father Dominic's office.
"He's waiting for you two," she smiled.
I should've knocked the second I heard voices. But I was a little dazed, it was 8 in the morning after all!
I opened the door and saw a strange man—some sort of Hispanic from what I could tell—talking to him.
"Padre, I do not think that Su—"
"Oh, sorry, Father Dominic, my brother and I can wait outside if you're busy," I said.
But my brother looked up and gave me this weird look and said, "Appi, he's not busy. He's just on his computer."
(A/N: Appi is an endeared way of saying older sister in Hindi.)
I was able to point out to him so obviously the guy sitting on Father Dominic's couch, when I realized that the guy was definitely not from around here. Or this time it seemed.
Thankfully, Father Dominic ushered us in saying "Ah, Ali and Zohra, is it?"
I nodded dumbfounded, still casting my eyes to Father Dominic's couch and its visitor.
"Come, have a seat children," Father Dominic signaled to the 2 chairs in front of his desk as he went to his own chair.
" First of all, let me say to the both of you that I am deeply sorry for your loss. I understand that this is a very difficult time for both of you with the loss of your parents. I know it must be difficult adjusting to your new family what with the rather interesting situation you two have been placed in. But the Lord has his way of consoling us, and for you two he has given you a new family," Father Dominic said offering his condolences.
All I could slip out was an "uh huh" since not only was I was already numb to the shit ton of condolences I had heard these past couple of days, but because out of the corner of my eyes, I had been studying this person on the couch. He had the same faint glow around him as I had seen on some ghosts way back when I actually gave attention to that part of my life. But since I couldn't deal with both the psychic abilities and the tons of ghosts, I'd put up an astral block when I was still in Texas. I hadn't cared to maintain it once I realized I was moving. I had figured I was off the radar by now, I guess not.
But this guy, was sitting there in these extremely old clothes from I don't know what century. But from what I could tell he was definitely post-1700s and Spanish in some way. The billowy top definitely gave away his heritage and a peek at a nice bod. Look, I maybe taken, but I can appreciate a nice body when I see one.
The guy was sitting there respectfully with some impatience it seemed, but the second Father Dominic mentioned my parents his eyes had softened with from what I could only assume was sympathy.
As Father Dominic, continued talking about the school and how this was a wonderful new beginning for my brother and I, I had began to stare at the fellow on the couch. Not because of the abs, but because I had this strong déjà vu going on. It was like I had known this guy before. And all I could do was think where I could have possibly seen this man. I definitely couldn't have known him.
The moment my migraine began, I knew where I'd seen him. He was in the weird dreams I'd been having all of my life. I could finally figure out who this person was and possibly stop the random and the debilitating dreams.
"And here are both of you schedules," Father Dominic said handing the papers to my brother and I.
I had to get out of here, leaving my staring unnoticed. I had to do this on my own time. I was NOT going to be a freak. And I was NOT going to make this entire ordeal rougher for my brother having the weirdo for a sister. No way.
"If you two ever need any help, I trust that you two will stop by. My door is always open," Father Dominic finished.
"Thanks so much, Father Dominic. I'm sure we will. Come on, Ali, I think we should get to our classes," I said hurriedly as I reached for my bag and my brother.
We were almost out the door, when Father Dominic called us back. Well, more me.
"Uh huh," I said quickly turning to face him. Damn! Crap. Shit! was all that was running through my head along with various other expletives.
"Zohra, why don't you stay back? I left out some of the stuff you need to know as a senior here at the academy. Ali, you are free to go. Please ask my secretary on the way out for directions to your homeroom," Father Dominic declared with this gleam in his eye.
"OK," my brother shrugged as he left me to my doom.
I knew I shouldn't have stared. I am so stupid. Maybe, just maybe, he really had something to tell me?
Please. That gleam in his eyes just screamed ulterior motive.
A silent prayer went out as I closed the door to return to my chair.
