A/N: Okay, I wrote some version of this a long time ago, and since that version is kind of on my dead laptop, I have to retype it from scratch and try to remember what I wrote. So, here it goes.
Summary: Fifteen-year-old Anna Foster was a perfectly normal teenager until two years ago when she moved to Nebraska (totally random place, sorry) and met Alex—who just happened to be very hot, but very dead. He taught her about being a mediator and now she spends most of her time helping ghosts and has almost no time for anything else.
Okay, that's kind of just the background information. For the moment, we have no plot. But never fear! I will find a plot! (Dang, that sounds dumb, doesn't it?)
Disclaimer: Umm... Dude, what do I need a disclaimer for? I own everything. I don't own the basic idea for the Mediator, but really, who's going to sue me for a minute detail? So, HAH, I don't need a disclaimer, thank you.
Chapter 1
The key to dating, I think, is get as much information about the person you're going on a date with beforehand, especially if it's a blind date, in order to avoid a very, very dull time.
That's exactly what I should have done before I let my brother talk me into going out with his new girlfriend's cousin. You know, when they say "I can only go if I find a date for my cousin/friend/brother/next door neighbor/total stranger," that generally means one of two things: Either the guy is ugly as a troll, or he's dull as dirt.
Well, I have to give my brother this much: Steve Phillips was as far from looking like a troll as a person could get. And he wasn't dull as dirt either. Nope, he was much duller.
We were sitting in what was probably the only decent hangout for teenagers in our town, waiting for a waitress to come by to take our order, and Steve was already droning on and on about what was apparently his favorite subject: sports. Is it possible for someone to be in every single sport that is offered at our school? Apparently so, since Steve was talking about every single one.
I barely managed to escape to the bathroom during his long description of the nuances of golf before I fell asleep.
I leaned my head against the wall outside the ladies room, groaning. "Note to self: Never, ever, go on another date with a jock."
"Huh. Then I guess this would be a good moment to mention that I played baseball for a year in high school, wouldn't it?"
I groaned again. "Alex."
Alex Johnson was decidedly the last person I wanted to see at the moment. Alex's only goal in life—or rather, his afterlife, since he'd been dead for twenty years—was to turn me into the best damn mediator ever. That, and annoy the hell out of me. So, either way, no matter what he was here for, it couldn't be very good for me.
That, and the fact that Alex was entirely too good looking for his—or my—own good.
I'd met Alex two years ago when I'd moved into the house where he used to live. Back then he seemed big and dark and forbidding. I don't know why, I guess maybe it just took me a long time to get used to his moods. Alex was perfectly fine until he got very angry—furious—and then he was a very scary person. Not that he ever hurt anyone when he got that way. It just took me a very long time to realize that he wasn't going to haul off and hit me if I did something to tick him off. I never got why he was like that. It could be that he had a certain drug problem when he was alive, but I never thought that'd have an effect on how he acted now that he was dead.
It was one of the many things I never understood about him.
But at the moment, my mind wasn't on that particular subject. What I didn't understand about Alex, I mean.
"What do you want, Alex?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. "I'm kind of busy."
He grinned that stupid—okay, kind of sexy, not that I noticed—cocky grin of his. He always did that. "Yes, I can see that."
I was about to say something, but a woman appeared in the hallway to the bathrooms, and I had to wait until she'd passed before I could do anything. When she was gone, I hissed, "Alex."
"Right. You had a visitor earlier."
I groaned. Great. Whenever Alex said that, it always meant a ghost had shown up in my bedroom. God, I can't even go on a stupid date—okay, a really boring date, but still a date—without something happening. "What'd they want?"
"I didn't ask."
I glared at him. "That's not very helpful, you know."
"No, but I never ask. That's your job." He just stood there and kept on grinning. I never got what Alex found so amusing about my annoyance. Well, actually, he only found it amusing when I was annoyed at him. The rest of the time, apparently, it wasn't as amusing.
"But she did say she'd be back to talk to you later," he finished.
"Oh. Fine." I pushed off the wall where I was leaning and started back down the hallway out of the bathrooms area. "I'll see you later, Alex," I called over my shoulder.
"Oh, and Foster." When I turned around, he was still grinning. Damn, I hated what that smile did to me sometimes. "Enjoy the rest of your date."
Yeah, right.
!!
A/N: Eh, not sure if I like the chapter, but it's a start. Didn't deviate too much from the original one I wrote, I think. So, yeah. Review and please don't tell me it's awful. :-)
Summary: Fifteen-year-old Anna Foster was a perfectly normal teenager until two years ago when she moved to Nebraska (totally random place, sorry) and met Alex—who just happened to be very hot, but very dead. He taught her about being a mediator and now she spends most of her time helping ghosts and has almost no time for anything else.
Okay, that's kind of just the background information. For the moment, we have no plot. But never fear! I will find a plot! (Dang, that sounds dumb, doesn't it?)
Disclaimer: Umm... Dude, what do I need a disclaimer for? I own everything. I don't own the basic idea for the Mediator, but really, who's going to sue me for a minute detail? So, HAH, I don't need a disclaimer, thank you.
Chapter 1
The key to dating, I think, is get as much information about the person you're going on a date with beforehand, especially if it's a blind date, in order to avoid a very, very dull time.
That's exactly what I should have done before I let my brother talk me into going out with his new girlfriend's cousin. You know, when they say "I can only go if I find a date for my cousin/friend/brother/next door neighbor/total stranger," that generally means one of two things: Either the guy is ugly as a troll, or he's dull as dirt.
Well, I have to give my brother this much: Steve Phillips was as far from looking like a troll as a person could get. And he wasn't dull as dirt either. Nope, he was much duller.
We were sitting in what was probably the only decent hangout for teenagers in our town, waiting for a waitress to come by to take our order, and Steve was already droning on and on about what was apparently his favorite subject: sports. Is it possible for someone to be in every single sport that is offered at our school? Apparently so, since Steve was talking about every single one.
I barely managed to escape to the bathroom during his long description of the nuances of golf before I fell asleep.
I leaned my head against the wall outside the ladies room, groaning. "Note to self: Never, ever, go on another date with a jock."
"Huh. Then I guess this would be a good moment to mention that I played baseball for a year in high school, wouldn't it?"
I groaned again. "Alex."
Alex Johnson was decidedly the last person I wanted to see at the moment. Alex's only goal in life—or rather, his afterlife, since he'd been dead for twenty years—was to turn me into the best damn mediator ever. That, and annoy the hell out of me. So, either way, no matter what he was here for, it couldn't be very good for me.
That, and the fact that Alex was entirely too good looking for his—or my—own good.
I'd met Alex two years ago when I'd moved into the house where he used to live. Back then he seemed big and dark and forbidding. I don't know why, I guess maybe it just took me a long time to get used to his moods. Alex was perfectly fine until he got very angry—furious—and then he was a very scary person. Not that he ever hurt anyone when he got that way. It just took me a very long time to realize that he wasn't going to haul off and hit me if I did something to tick him off. I never got why he was like that. It could be that he had a certain drug problem when he was alive, but I never thought that'd have an effect on how he acted now that he was dead.
It was one of the many things I never understood about him.
But at the moment, my mind wasn't on that particular subject. What I didn't understand about Alex, I mean.
"What do you want, Alex?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. "I'm kind of busy."
He grinned that stupid—okay, kind of sexy, not that I noticed—cocky grin of his. He always did that. "Yes, I can see that."
I was about to say something, but a woman appeared in the hallway to the bathrooms, and I had to wait until she'd passed before I could do anything. When she was gone, I hissed, "Alex."
"Right. You had a visitor earlier."
I groaned. Great. Whenever Alex said that, it always meant a ghost had shown up in my bedroom. God, I can't even go on a stupid date—okay, a really boring date, but still a date—without something happening. "What'd they want?"
"I didn't ask."
I glared at him. "That's not very helpful, you know."
"No, but I never ask. That's your job." He just stood there and kept on grinning. I never got what Alex found so amusing about my annoyance. Well, actually, he only found it amusing when I was annoyed at him. The rest of the time, apparently, it wasn't as amusing.
"But she did say she'd be back to talk to you later," he finished.
"Oh. Fine." I pushed off the wall where I was leaning and started back down the hallway out of the bathrooms area. "I'll see you later, Alex," I called over my shoulder.
"Oh, and Foster." When I turned around, he was still grinning. Damn, I hated what that smile did to me sometimes. "Enjoy the rest of your date."
Yeah, right.
!!
A/N: Eh, not sure if I like the chapter, but it's a start. Didn't deviate too much from the original one I wrote, I think. So, yeah. Review and please don't tell me it's awful. :-)