Fallen by Laury Falter

Author:Laury Falter [Falter, Laury]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Young Adult
ISBN: 9780615294988
Publisher: Laury Falter
Published: 2013-11-30T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT: PAST LIVES

It felt like time stopped, teasing me each time I looked at my watch…which was often. For the first time in my life, I could relate to all those infatuated girls fawning over their love interests. Every minute was too long to wait before I could see Eran again. I sat in The Square all day, hoping to wear myself out so I would fall asleep quickly when I got back to the house.

Eran was such a strong distraction that I actually had to record people’s messages on a piece of paper I’d torn from Rufus’s sketch book. I just didn’t trust that I would remember them correctly when half of my attention was focused on my feelings for Eran. It was driving me crazy; I could barely concentrate. It wasn’t until a girl I recognized from school approached me that I was able to focus a little more.

It was Saturday and I’d set up my chairs in their usual spot, beneath one of the dappled oak trees dotting The Square. Today was a busy one with throngs of tourists buying trinkets and their caricatures from local artists. Still, despite the swarm of people, I saw her coming. She had a self-assured air that was hard to miss.

She was from my English Interpretive Literature class, and she sat several rows in front of me. I’d caught her staring at me recently when I entered or left the classroom. As she took a seat in my customer chair, I knew why.

“You’re Miranda, right?” I asked.

“Yes, how did you know?” She seemed surprised.

“I pay attention.”

“Ah…Did you also know I was on the school paper?” She asked, grinning broadly at me. There was a hint hidden in the tone of her voice which instantly concerned me. It meant I had guessed her reason for being here correctly.

“Yes,” I said, hesitantly.

“Good. I’d like to do an article on you.”

I laughed, awkwardly. “Oh, I’m sure there are more interesting topics you can write about…”

“No…there really isn’t,” she said decisively, making it clear she wasn’t going to concede. She sensed my apprehension and quickly added, “Look, you are by far the most interesting person in school – from your bike…“

“Harley Davidson 883 Sportster,” I clarified. If she was going to do a story about me, then she was going to do it accurately.

“Thank you,” she replied, confirming she understood my point. “You weren’t born and raised here in New Orleans. You don’t work at a souvenir shop, like everyone else, or have a wealthy family paying your tuition. No…you come from the unknown…working in Jackson Square for your money doing psychic readings.” She enunciated this last part for emphasis. I stopped her there.

“I don’t do psychic readings, and I’m not psychic. I deliver messages to those who have passed on. At least get that right.”

She didn’t appear offended at my verbal jab and that made me feel a little more comfortable with her. Instead, she smiled confidently and said, “Let me interview you.

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