The Mediator : Showtime

(A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks to all my reviewers, lolz. KAREN! JAMIE! You didn't review! So sad… lolz.

Side note: I just changed this little chappie's beginning… hope you still understand what it's about! R&R!)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Meg Cabot! Sadly.

Chapter 2

Suze's POV:

No one told me that North Cali, as Dopey called it, was so sunny.

I'm not stupid. I knew that it would be sunny. I mean, their school buses had air conditioning. Almost all year round.

But here. Wow. The sun was the first thing I noticed when I got off the plane. After I retrieved my bags and walked outside those automatic sliding doors, the full burst of Californian heat hit me and I had to shield my eyes from the overwhelming rays of the sun.

Luckily I had put my sunglasses – a real cute pair, actually – in my bag, just in case we would hit the beach on the first day. I pulled them out and put them on before the sun could damage my eyes further. My eyes were smarting after that first few seconds outside those protecting doors.

"Susie, honey? Are you alright?"

I turned and smiled at my mom.

"I'm fine, Mom."

"Oh, alright then," she muttered distractedly before calling out, "Andy! Brad! Jake! David! Come on!"

Jake, whom I named Sleepy, Brad, whom I named Dopey, and David, whom I named Doc, are my new stepbrothers. Andy was my new stepdad. He convinced my mom to move to North California to live with him after he married, and thus, she made me leave my friends – well, friend, I guess, since Gina was my one and only best friend, but anyway – my school, and the place I grew up in. Not that I'm complaining.

Right.

But whatever. They were fighting over who was going to carry which bag when Andy just picked two of my suitcases, shoved them at Sleepy, picked up my other two and shoved them at Dopey before steering a disgruntled Sleepy, an annoyed Dopey and a cheerful Doc out to the Land Rover.

Half an hour later, we pulled up at the house. During the whole trip I had been listening to my iPod mini and singing along. Andy complimented me on my singing ability – much to my mom's delight – and Dopey tried to make me shut up by grabbing my iPod mini away from me.

I taught him not to mess with my baby by sucker punching him right in the stomach, and therefore, I was grounded for a week after my mom and Andy lectured me thoroughly about not punching my new brother.

Stepbrother, you mean, I thought. But of course, I wouldn't say it out loud.

I got out of the car and was about to grab my bags when Andy came up behind me and grabbed them instead.

"Why don't you leave the muscling to us guys?" he laughed. "Just go inside and look around. Jake and I will bring your bags up to your room. I can't wait till you see it!" he said excitedly.

"Of course," I replied.

I walked up the steps and into the house. But before I could head on over to my room, my mother pulled me aside for a moment.

"Why are you wearing that, Susie?" she asked quietly, her gaze fastened on my outfit. "You never wear that out."

"Oh, you mean this?" I asked, fingering my skirt. I'm usually a T-Shirt and jeans kind of girl, but today I was wearing a long green skirt that accented my green eyes and, if I twirled around, would whoosh around me in a circle before settling again. I was also wearing a thin, white, cotton long sleeved shirt (hey, cut me some slack. I didn't know it got THAT hot in California!), and a pair of Jimmy Choo high heels with my brown hair down.

"Yes, that," my mom said. "Why are you wearing it?"

"Well, I guess I was sort of nervous about coming here…"

"Really, sweetie?" she asked, concerned. And she had a right to be. Back home, I wasn't what you called popular, but I wasn't a freak either. At least socially. Because I kind of am a freak.

I can see ghosts. (A/N: a little dramatic, lolz. Sorry for repeating a whole lot of facts that avid mediator fans out there know already, but I want to kind of write like in a novel kind of sense, y'noe? So sorry!)

I won't go into it now, but just ever since I found out that I was a mediator, I've been kicking ghost butt to get them to move on. They're not supposed to be here, you see. But, like I said, I won't go into it.

You can kind of guess what this unusual… talent I have can do to my social life. One moment I might be talking to you, the next I might be fighting thin air. Alas, a mediator's job is never finished.

So when I told my mom that I was nervous, you could tell that she thought I was talking about fitting in. In a way, I was.

"Oh, honey, I'm sure you'll fit in just fine. Why don't you go up to your room right now and start unpacking? Dinner will be ready in an hour."

"Sure, mom," I replied, as I started walking up the stairs. One of my favorite songs was on when I was talking to my mom, and I danced and sang to the beat of "Fell in Love with A Boy" by Joss Stone on my way up.

Since I was six, I took dance lessons with Gina back in New York. Ballet, jazz, hip-hop, lyrical – all types of dances. I have to say, we were pretty cool when we were dancing. We won some contests and stuff last year, but I left all my medals and certificates with my grandma.

I was right outside my bedroom door when my favorite salsa song came on. We had just done a routine to this song for the last dance contest and I was proud to say we had won first place. I started dancing enthusiastically to the song before I flung open the door and salsa-ed my way in.

(A/N: lolz. Sorry for making Suze act like an idiot in front of Jesse. Well, kind of. She was dancing into the bedroom that Jesse was in. but oh, well.

REVIEW, MY PRETTIES. Lolz. If I get 5 reviews, I'll update in the next three days and then you guys will be able to find out Jesse's reaction to the new Suze! Lolz.

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