CHAPTER 1

SAME OLD, SAME OLD

"Susannah Simon! Head for the detention room NOW!" yelled sister Ernestine. I chuckled and stood up, leaving my stepbrother Brad Ackerman lying on the floor and whimpering like a baby – and this guy is supposed to be champion in boxing? Yeah right! – I walked lightly to the detention room, a small box like room near the Principles office with a glass door and lots of crude paintings of Christ and Mary. A smug smile on my face, I stood obediently in front of the desk where a bunch of slips were scattered all over the place. Huh, and they accuse US of being untidy! It's not as if my room is what you call the cleanest in the house, still . . .

I fingered loosely through the green slips, and a particular name caught my eye. Paul Slater. Paul, my long term over possessive boyfriend who was a goody-two-shoe – or so he stated – had been in detention . . . Monday the 4. Oh, for disobeying orders! I chuckled and lifted the slip, fitting it in my pocket. If he got heavy with me, I could always black mail him into doing what I want. His rich we-are-the-best-parents-in-the-history-of-parents-and-our-son-can-prove-it won't be too happy about it.

I jumped as the door slammed shut behind me and Sister Somethingorother walked in, hands behind her back and big wooden rosary hanging between her over-sized jugs . . . I pulled away from the desk and took a step back. Sister Somethingorother stood in front of me, shaking her head in disappointment.

"Susannah, when you mother said you would not be any trouble, I believed her. But I now see that believing strongly in someone is not helping. Father Dominic does say you are a girl with . . . problems. I believe him not. I believe we have to get rid of the evil inside you, to rid you of your sins." I sucked in a sharp breath. Man, this wasn't going to be easy.

Sister Somethingorother produced a sheet of A4 paper and placed it somewhat significantly on the desk. I glanced at it and then back at her, uncomprehending.

"And . . .?" I muttered making a small circling motion with my hands and nodding my head in encouragement.

"I am sorry to say that . . . you will be the first student here to attend our counselling sessions. The doctor is a very kind man who understands teenagers and their, er, problems."

"You.Are.Joking." I hissed, narrowing my eyes and bunching my fists "you want me to see a shrink?" I screeched.

"Well, yes. We believe that your behaviour is abnormal for your age. After all, you are nearly eighteen! Punching and acting silly in the grounds is not what a 17-18 year old would do. You can go now. I will send the letter off to the doctor as soon as possible and you will receive a note in homeroom saying when your first session will be."

I hissed and left the room, slamming the door had behind me.

I walked to the parking lot and sat in my car, drumming my fingers to beautiful lie by 30 Seconds to Mars.

So I was to see a shrink. God, this was crap! I only acted that way because people provoked me for crying out loud! It's not as if I go round and sucker punch random people in the stomach everyday! Well, not since I lost my 'powers' or 'Gods gift' as Father D insists it is. I had been able to see – and speak – to the dead on a daily basis. It was crazy, bizarre and mind shatteringly exhausting. These spirits forgot about sleep once they had kicked the bucket, croaked; give up the ghost – literally – die. Ghosts usually hung about only when they didn't understand – or didn't want to – why they were still there.

Craig Jankow had been hanging about because his brother was supposed to die.

Jorge somethingorother had been hanging about because of a rosary he had to give back to someone, and on and on and on. It was always like that, "You the Mediator? Yeah, tell this and that to him and them." Oh, and did I mention you didn't get paid for this job?? It's not like I had signed up for this thing! I was born with it! And every minute of every day I had possessed this . . . thing, I had wanted to get rid of it, and now that I have . . . I miss is.

No more sneaking out in the middle of the night.

No more breaking and entering.

No more stealing.

No more police cars.

No more stealing cars to get away from a mad ghost . . .

Ah, the good life.

I had lost these 'powers' when I had a real bad accident and banged my head. I had been unconscious for three whole weeks and my powers left as soon as I opened my eyes.

I understand if they wanted to me to see a shrink for this! But for punching my brother? Nah, I don't think so.

The classes were let out for lunch – we don't have a bell – and I scanned the crowds for my best friends Cee Cee and Adam. I saw them standing by our Geometry class and I locked the car, jogging quietly toward them. This was the last time of day I wanted to see Paul.

OK, so he was the perfect boyfriend. At first.

After a while he got too . . . I dunno. Depressing was the word. It got too depressing hanging around him, with his super hot figure and glinting smile, but a crazy possessive mind . . . I admit, I did love it when we walked into a restaurant or café together and you could see the waitresses dribbling after him, and he was with ME but that passes after a while, too.

"What did the Sister say?" Cee Cee asked, linking arms with me and dragging me to a shaded part of the grounds.

"Um, she's sending a letter to the school counsellor." I muttered, looking away. It was the most embarrassing thing that happened to me.

"No!" she hissed.

"Yes. She thinks I'm too. .. Something or other. She thinks I need to see a counsellor so they can get rid of my sins and the devils spirit living inside me." raising an eyebrow, Adam laughed. Cee Cee and Adam were going out. Adam had finally given up hope that I would go out with him so he settled for the fact that Cee Cee was head over heels for him. They are the cutest couple EVER.

"She thinks you are in need of a shrink? What about that Slater dude? He's a right possessive git!" he linked arms with me on the other side and leaned casually against the wall, tilting his head toward the sun. Adam is the class clown, and Cee Cee is the class albino and 'reporter'. She doesn't believe in anything that isn't scientifically proven.

"Huh. I wouldn't put it past Paul to have paid the school a thousand bucks to rid himself of any mental related people. He has one in his own house." This was true. His grandpa had burned brain cells, but only I knew that.

"Were you talking about me?" a husky voice hissed from the shadows. I jumped away from my friends and tucked my shaking hands in my pockets. Paul Slater walked slowly toward me, one arm swinging at his side, the other hand rested on his waist. He wore an olive green polo shirt and a pair of white jeans, uselessly bringing out his tan and the shape of his biceps.

This was going to be trouble.