Loves routine, Hates lack of order, Can be organized, Persistent, Critical, Complaining
Libra: Sept 23-24 to Oct 23-24
Loves social interaction, Hates being alone, Can be diplomatic, Harmonious, Jealous, Manipulative
Scorpio: Oct 24-25 to Nov 21-22
Loves passion, Hates disloyalty, Can be loyal, Protective, Suspicious, Obsessive
Sagittarius: Nov 22-23 to Dec 21-22
Loves freedom, Hates routine, Can be spontaneous, Cheerful, fickle, unpredictable
Capricorn: Dec 22-23 to Jan 19-20
Loves being needed, Hates not having a plan, Can be witty, hilarious, power-hungry, emotionally cold
Aquarius: Jan 20-21 to Feb 18-19
Loves analyzing everything, Hates getting emotional, Can be independent, Curious, Detached, Eccentric
Pisces: Feb 19-20 to March 20-21
Loves daydreaming, Hates dealing with reality, Can be intuitive, Empathetic, Reclusive, Spacey
HERE’S A SNEAK PEEK AT THE NEXT BOOK IN THE STAR CROSSED SERIES
GEMINI NIGHT
1
THE TAURUS-AQUARIUS RELATIONSHIP IS FULL OF
BUMPS AND BRUISES. NOT THAT EITHER OF YOU
MOVES ALL THAT FAST. TAURUS IS EARTH, AND
AQUARIUS IS AIR. BECAUSE YOU ARE BOTH FIXED
SIGNS, YOU ARE EACH CONVINCED YOU ARE RIGHT,
WITH A CAPITAL R. WHEN TAURUS PUSHES, AQUARIUS
STEPS BACK. IF YOU WANT THIS RELATIONSHIP TO
WORK, THE BULL MUST STEP SOFTLY, AND THE WATER
BEARER MUST REACH OUT.
—Fearless Astrology
Terra Bella Beach had never seemed so lonely. If I, Logan McRae, had paid more attention to Fearless Astrology, maybe I wouldn’t be so miserable right now. Maybe I wouldn’t have fallen for a Taurus. Jeremy had pushed. I had stepped back. And then I had stepped forward in a big way, a way that would and did change his life. Even though I was back home, and he was in Ireland, in my mind, I could still see the plane that carried him disappearing like a silver streak into the sky.
That had been almost three months ago. In spite of his e-mails from Ireland, I wasn’t sure when or if this boy I couldn’t stop thinking about would return. “I still love you,” he told me each time we spoke. “Everything is the same.” Only nothing was.
To make my life even more unsettled, my mother had arrived home from her golf tour the day I returned from my summer workshop. Then she and Dad had sat me down at the kitchen counter, no less, for the we-love-you-very-much talk. Translation: divorce.
Mom had assured me that she’d do her best to spend time at home when her schedule permitted. Dad had said that Gram Janie would move in after Christmas. Everything would be the same, they told me. Except nothing would be.
I had been sitting there, on a stool at the kitchen counter, staring at them and trying not to cry, when the phone rang.
“Logan? Hello. It’s Henry Jaffa.”
As if I hadn’t recognized the voice.
“Hi,” I squawked.
“Logan,” he said. “I have what could be an amazing opportunity for you.”
onday morning in Terra Bella Beach. I had put on my black T-shirt with Writers Camp stenciled across it in purple. It would be nice to have a chest to go with it. Then I pulled on my yellow hoodie from the summer, remembering how I’d felt when Jeremy had held me.
I rode to school with my two best friends in Chili’s Spyder. She and I sat in front. Paige leaned over from the backseat to catch our conversation above the music.
When I told them about the phone call from Jaffa and the possibility of working as an intern for CRUSH magazine, they both screamed.
“I knew it,” Paige said.
Chili gave me a one-armed hug. “Oh Logan. You may have lost Jeremy, but you have a famous writer as a mentor.”
“Thanks.” My eyes stung.
“She hasn’t lost Jeremy,” Paige said in a soft Pisces voice. “Not necessarily.”
“Right.” Chili, like many born in her Gemini Sun sign, lied about as well as a five-year-old. “I just meant that having a famous author for a mentor is the best.”
The music on the radio drilled into my head.
“Can we ditch Arianna Woods?” I asked.
“This song’s better than her last.” Chili pulled into the Terra High parking lot and shut off the music. Then she drew back, and the look of concern on her face reminded me of Stella, her very hands-on Armenian mom.
“You’re not moving to New York or anything, are you?”
“The magazine is published in San Francisco,” I said. “I can commute.”
They screamed again. Then, we got out of the car. For a moment, we just looked at each other. Chili in her cropped white sweater over a black tank and jeans, the sunlight glinting off her streaked hair. Paige in a shirt she’d designed herself, pale blue, to match her eyes, but something was different. Makeup. Was Paige really wearing makeup?
As we walked to class, Chili asked, “If CRUSH is in San Francisco, how will you be able to intern there? That’s ninety minutes each way.”
“I’m hoping the school, namely Ms. Snider, will go along with the plan. It’s only one day a week.”
Our hardworking Capricorn journalism teacher had cut me some slack last year when I was a sophomore, and I needed her support again.
We walked out of the parking lot, and as Chili and Paige headed for their first period classes, I started toward the journalism room.
Just then I noticed crazy Kat, the Aries cheerleader as she came around a corner. Her short, black hair was pushed back behind her ears. When she noticed me, she grinned.
“Hey, Logan. Did you hear about Nathan and Geneva?”
“No.” I kept walking.
She ran up along side me. “They’re going to Maui in November.”
“Good for them.” I didn’t turn to look at her, just kept on heading toward the journalism class.
“They’ll be traveling with Nathan’s family. His parents love Geneva.”
Finally, I met her eyes. “And you’re telling me this, because?”
She gave me a superior smirk. “Because I thought you’d want to know.”
“What they do doesn’t concern me, Kat,” I said. “They’re in college. I’m here. Besides, I have a new boyfriend.”
“Oh, really? Who?”
“His name is Jeremy.” Best not to mention that he was in Ireland, and that I had no idea when I would see him again.
“Oh.” I could tell that I’d taken her by surprise and that she was trying to come up with a fiery Aries insult. “How’d you manage that? Did you use astrology on him?”
As if it were a magic trick that would snag me any guy I wanted.
“In a way.” That should give her something to gossip about. I didn’t care.
Ms. Snider stepped out of the classroom. Ever the perfect Capricorn in her crisp little brown tunic and cream-colored turtleneck, she looked hot. The rumor was that she was dating my English teacher, Mr. Franklin, but they hadn’t gone public with it.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Hi, Ms. Snider. Um, could I talk to you for a minute?”
“About Henry Jaffa?” Her expression got a little less friendly. “You know I’m proud of you, Logan, but you shouldn’t have asked Jaffa to pressure me.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t ask him to do anything.”
“Really? Then why did he contact me last night?”
“I swear I don’t know.”
“Well, he called the superintendent.” Color rose along her cheeks. “As you can imagine, I don’t appreciate such manipulation from anyone, not even a well-known writer.”
“Henry Jaffa is not a manipulator,” I said before I remembered that I was talking back to a teacher. “He’s very straightforward, and he’s not the type to pull strings.”
“Well, he’s certainly pulling them, or trying to.”
Kat stared openly, no doubt ta
king mental notes for Geneva.
“Could we go inside?” I asked Snider. “I’d like to talk to you without an audience.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Kat said under her breath, but she didn’t move.
Snider seemed to take it in. “All right. Shall we walk down the hall?”
Good idea. Students would be filling the journalism room any minute.
“I didn’t know that Mr. Jaffa contacted you,” I told her. “All I said to him is that I would need the approval of the school. Maybe that’s why he phoned the superintendent, and since you’re my journalism teacher . . .”
“Whatever the reason, I got called, at home, on a Sunday and hit with considerable pressure from a famous writer.”
“I am sorry if I caused any of that,” I said. “I was just so excited about the internship. If you can help me get it, I’ll make up the time.”
“Are you still involved with that astrology stuff?”
Yes, Capricorn, and don’t be so true-to-your-sign frosty about it. “I am,” I said. “It’s what I used last spring when everything here was in such an uproar.” Not to mention your reputation. I didn’t say it, but I could tell by her expression that she understood.
“What happened last spring was all about your courage and your intelligence,” she said. “And, yes, I know how much you want to believe otherwise.”
“But what does that have to do with my internship?” I asked.
“Only this.” She lowered her voice. “Henry Jaffa.”
“What about him?”
“His beliefs, the subjects he writes about. All of that paranormal stuff.” She paused in the hall. “You’re a good kid, Logan. I want you to learn to rely on yourself and not on magic.”
“Astrology isn’t magic,” I said. “And CRUSH is a teen magazine. I know the superintendent will go along with the internship if you approve.”
“Okay,” she said. “I will do that on two conditions.”
“Anything,” I managed to say.
“First, you can go to the magazine only one day a week.”
“No problem. That’s the way the internship is set up.”
“Second, you have to promise me that you’ll stay away from astrology.”
“Totally away?”
“Away,” she said. “Promise me that you will not use it to run your life.”
That was easy. Astrology didn’t run my life. It enhanced and expanded my life.
“It’s a deal,” I told her.
NOTES TO SELF
It’s happened. It’s going to take a lot of extra work, and I’ll have a lot of make-up assignments, but I now have approval to intern at the magazine every Friday, starting four days from tonight. The moon will be in Gemini, meaning that my Air sign communication skills should be at their best. So, yes, I am thinking about astrology again right now, but not in a magical way. In a hopeful way.
Bonnie Hearn Hill is a Gemini, a full-time writer, and a former editor for a daily newspaper. She is the author of INTERN and five other adult thriller novels, and teaches writing in her hometown of Fresno, California and on Writer’s Digest Online. She also mentors writers and speaks at numerous writing conferences. Read more about Bonnie and your astrological sign at: www.bonniehearnhill.com
Copyright © 2010 by Bonnie Hearn Hill
All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without permission from the publisher.
Digit on the right indicated the number of this printing
Library of Congress Control Number: 2009940139
eISBN : 978-0-762-44043-6
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