Spiritdell Book 1 Read Free

carpet.
    Someone's legs whip up from out of nowhere and slam me backward into the ground. My head hits the carpet hard, and for an instant I see those honest-to-goodness stars that swirl around cartoon characters' heads. Maybe a good wallop could knock this curse right out of me , I think, which is odd, because I've never called it a curse before.
    The lanterns and streamers swim above me as my eyes fill with water.
    “You okay, man?” James asks. He's smiling and a bit of drool is coming out of his mouth, toward me. Intentional or not, the thread of spit gives me an intense wave of panic to get away, but I blink and hold steady, not flinching.
    “You're surprisingly strong for a vegan,” I say to James. “Aw, gross, I can feel your body warmth seeping into me. Too intimate!”
    “I got you good,” he says, still pinning me down, his heat still radiating into me through our clothes, which only makes me more sad that I'll probably never get this close to a girl.
    “No fair,” I say, trying to not faint. “I was distracted by the overpowering aroma of hummus down here. Did you guys get any normal food?”
    He makes the disgusted face again and releases me. “Julie made a cheese and salami tray.” He pronounces salami as though it's made from medical waste.
    “Sounds awesome.” 
    James wanders off to help with the decorating for all of thirty seconds before he moves on to setting up the music while peppering Julie with questions about which girls from school are coming to the party.
    “Munch will be here,” Julie says, counting off guests on her fingers. “And Hopscotch, Sadmachine, and her cousin, Tumor Girl.”
    “Are any of them hot?” James asks. “No, scratch that. Are any of them desperate?”
    “We can dim the lanterns even more,” she says, ruffling his hair and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “If we turn them right off, you could let your personality shine.”
    “I do not like what you're implying,” he says. “And I do not appreciate you saying it with mom's voice.”
    As they banter away, I finish setting up my photo booth. This starry theme seemed like such a great idea last night when I was putting the foil on the stars, but now it looks stupid, like something off the set of a kids' show.
    I put away all my cameras except for two—one digital and one film. I've been rolling my own film reels recently, and developing at home. Gran doesn't like the smell of the chemicals in the bathroom, but she's away now.
    Gran . I feel a pang of loneliness for her. I hope she's getting her money's worth out of the cruise ship's buffet—she's been getting a little too thin lately. I don't like the idea of big, cowboy-looking Rudy (her gentleman-friend) on top of her. I was willing to overlook Rudy's bad breath, but recently he's started cracking a few too many Viagra jokes. Too far, Rudy. Too far.
    I set up my light stands with some sandbags, as close to the wall as I can get them. They'll probably get knocked over, considering the way things have been going for me lately. I've got the house to myself for weeks, and the only one who's going to be jumping on my bed with me is Mibs, the mildly neurotic, diabetic cat.
    I do love Mibs, but I'd really like to have a girlfriend.
    * * *
    Julie has turned off the ceiling lights and the basement is lit only by candles, a string of white Christmas lights, and star-shaped, colored-glass lanterns. By night, with music and the scent of hummus, a guy can feel transported to a faraway land. That guy might even be moved to yearning by the romantic setting—so moved, in fact, that he might be reconsidering a brief dalliance with Raye-Anne Donovan, despite knowing better.
    People have been arriving for the past hour, mostly congregating around the snack table. The kids in retro hats have commandeered the stereo. I scan the room for Raye-Anne, and I'm both disappointed and relieved she isn't here.
    Woah. Who's that?
    The prettiest girl I've ever seen has just come down