Kiss King - Mickey Miller Page 0,4

fresh greens. I take a hit and feel the relaxation come over me. It’s an interesting high mixed with my coffee.

“I don’t usually smoke in the morning,” I say.

“Me neither. I don’t usually smoke at all, actually. But you’re stressed,” he says, then takes a hit.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s written all over your face. I’m good at reading people. I do it for a living.”

“What do you mean, for a living?”

“I’m a shaman.”

“You’re a man who does ancient rituals?”

He laughs.

“I’m kidding. I’m not a shaman, technically. But I wish I was a shaman. I’d be a good one. But alas, I’m just good at reading people’s energies. It’s sort of a weird application of my psychology major. I try and read people’s psychological profiles.”

My eyes widen. Am I seriously high, or is Grant—a frat boy—talking seriously about energies?

“Well, the psychological stuff I could see, but that energy reading is bull,” I say, and decide to call him out. My mother is a part-time chakra reader, so I’ve got more knowledge than the average person in this field.

“Not bull,” he says. “I can read energies. I can read tarot cards too. I kind of have an instinct for it at this point.”

I finish my hit and stare at him like he’s an alien.

So, the chiseled sculpture model with perfect abs, among other things, is a Renaissance man?

He sees the disbelief on my face, and gets up, walks to his room, then pulls out a set of tarot cards.

“I mean, I’m no expert. But I can give you a general reading if you want.”

He takes another hit and hands the bowl to me.

“Nah, I’m good,” I say.

“Pull one card,” he says. “And I’ll tell you what it means.” He flashes his gray eyes toward me. “And then I want to hear this long story of yours.”

I pull a card, and when I see it, I’m taken aback.

“The hanged man!” I exclaim. It’s an image of a man hanging upside down by one foot.

“What does it mean?”

“When the hanged man appears, you’ve got a decision hanging over your head that you’re not making, and thus not moving one way or the other. To move to the next stage, you’ve got to make a decision, pick a road and get on with it, and suffer the consequences, good or bad.”

Damn. So accurate.

I look up at Grant in disbelief. “What were you thinking about earlier, when you were staring out the window?”

“Uh, that’s random.”

“Not random. Was it something you need to make a decision about?”

He shakes his head. “No. I’ll tell you. I was thinking about the consequences of joining the Alpha Z fraternity.”

“You’re not happy you did?”

“People tend to have certain stereotypes in their head about ‘frat’ guys. I don’t believe I fit those. I look at it as a way to have brothers whom you can grow with during the most stressful years of our lives. Not everyone sees it that way though.”

“The Alpha Z’s aren’t a normal fraternity though. Everyone loves you guys.”

“Aww. You’re too kind. But the baseball team found out, and now I’m not in the starting rotation for the year. The behind-the-scenes gossip is that Coach Johnson hates the baseball players in the fraternity, so he punishes them in silly little ways, like giving us less playing time.”

“Holy crap. Is that…legal?”

“Well, no one can prove it. And I’m not a complainer.” His eyes cloud and he touches my shoulder.

Even that sends a chill through my entire body.

“But…?”

“But I’m better than those guys. I work my ass off, and I deserve a starting spot. He didn’t give a starting spot to anyone in a fraternity, though…except for Luke Rutledge.”

“And Luke Rutledge is like the Michael Jordan of baseball.”

“Right. Even you know. It’s just…frustrating. So that’s what I was thinking about when you saw me staring out the window. I didn’t mean to go off on a long-winded tangent, my bad.”

Almost unconsciously, I lean forward and wrap my hand around his forearm. “Don’t apologize for your tangents. I love them. And I’ll admit it, I enjoy a little Greene State gossip. As long as I’m not the subject.”

Grant slips his hand off my shoulder. I do the same with mine.

“So, here’s a question,” Grant says, leaning back on the couch. “Why did you act like you didn’t know me when I first saw you today?”

“I was fucking with you.”

He shakes his head. “No, you weren’t. Your mind was somewhere far, far away.”

I decide what the hell. I’m a little buzzed