Talisman 01 - The Emerald Talisman

to get through this class without flunking. Frankly, I didn’t know what I would do without her.
    I was the first to get up when the bell rang.
    As always, sixth period Spanish flew by and I became anxious to get home. I had a few things to do before leaving for work.
    “Do you want me to come over tonight and help you with your Algebra?” Sam asked as we walked to our lockers.
    I’d completely forgotten about Algebra and at her mention of it, I groaned. I imagined myself sitting at my desk tempted to snap my pencil in half from the frustration. What do we need Algebra for anyway?
    “I think I’ll manage. I’m working, but I’ll call if I get stuck.”
    Of course the managing part of my comment was an exaggeration. I’d probably just put it off until lunch the next day so she could help me then.
    My pocket vibrated with a text message and I took out my phone. It was from Luke.
    - Jo is coming for dinner. John is out of town. You working?
    Dang it!
    I didn’t want to miss dinner with Aunt Josephine, or Auntie Jo as we affectionately called her.
    - Yeah. What time is she coming over?
    Aunt Jo was the closest thing I had to a mother. After our mother’s mysterious disappearance, our father moved us from Los Angeles to Scotts Valley. Josephine was his only sister and took care of us while he traveled during our younger years.
    - She’s coming at five.
    I sighed. My shift started at four-thirty.
    - I have to work. Why don’t you come to the deli for dinner so I can see her?
    Even though Aunt Jo lived right around the corner from us, I never wanted to miss an opportunity to spend time with her—without John, her new husband. I tried not to be jealous of him, after all she’d sacrificed everything while we were growing up; she deserved a life of her own. But things didn’t feel the same anymore and I didn’t feel like I could just drop by now that she was married. And thinking about it reopened a wound I’d tried to forget.
    - I’ll ask and see. We were planning on having Mexican.
    Disappointment flooded me. Not only was I missing out being around the people I loved, I was missing out on my favorite food too.
    I worked at Erik's, the best sandwich deli in town. For an emotion reader, it was a job I felt comfortable doing. Something about people being hungry didn’t bother me. In all reality though, I didn’t need to work. My dad, Russell Parker, made pretty good money as a computer consultant. Since he traveled on business frequently, he wanted everyone available to do things together when he was in town. My job encroached on that time, so he asked me multiple times to quit. It was tempting, but when he was gone, I would get so bored alone at the house since Luke was rarely there. Plus, I liked having my own money to spend as I wanted. But, today I wished I’d taken him up on his offer.
    The crowded hallway was already buzzing with weekend plans, even though it was only Tuesday. I had plans. I was scheduled to work.
    I shoved my books into my locker and slammed it shut.
    “Where’d you park?” I asked Sam as she did the same; her locker just a few down from mine.
    “I got a spot in the front today,” she said in a teasing tone.
    “Oh? Well, I’m in the back today, so I guess I’ll see ya tomorrow?”
    I was a tad jealous because she’d be home by the time I left the back parking lot, but that’s my fault for getting to school at the last minute.
    “Yeah. See ya,” she called from behind me and we headed in separate directions.
    * * *
    We lived close to my school in a quaint three bedroom, two-story, Cape Cod home, the cutest house on the block. It had a lot of character with navy blue shutters, a large front porch and white picket fence covered in fuchsia-colored climbing roses.
    I parked at my usual spot on the street and walked up the cobble stone path to the front door. Luke and Dad were already home, hanging out in the kitchen catching up after Dad’s weeklong business trip.
    “Welcome home, Dad,” I said giving him a big hug.
    My dad, a very handsome man in his early fifties, was tall and trim and slightly balding with salt and pepper hair. At the moment, he was still wearing his ‘monkey suit’, as he liked to call it and appeared tired.
    “Thanks. Good to be home, Jules,” he said affectionately while he flipped through a huge stack of mail.
    “You guys still going to Mexican food for dinner?” I asked, slumping down at the kitchen table already knowing the answer.
    “We