Second Thoughts

Copyright © 2014 Cara Bertrand

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

www.carabertrand.com

www.thesententia.com

Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-935462-07-1

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-935462-12-5

Cover Design by Brit Godish

Images courtesy PhotoXpress.com

L
UMINIS
B
OOKS

Meaningful Books That Entertain

This one is for Kristine, who's always an inspiration.

Praise for
Lost
In Thought
Amazon/Penguin Breakthrough Novel Award Finalist

“…my pick for the winner, a fantastic novel trying to break free…The boarding school setting is a lot of fun, and the chemistry with Carter snaps…Lainey and Carter begin exploring the provenance of Lainey's Legacy, the true extent of her powers, and just how those powers might be manipulated, the book starts to pick up momentum, leading to an action-packed ending with a twist that will leave readers clamoring for the next installment.” – Gayle Forman,
New York Times
Bestselling Author of
If I Stay

“…the novel is full of characters teen readers will enjoy spending time with, especially Lainey's vivacious roommate, Amy, and Carter, the mysterious and swoon-worthy love interest…a nice dose of romance, mystery, and supernatural thrills keeps the pages turning.” – Jennifer Besser, Vice President and Publisher of G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers

“The tale of Lainey Young's journey from being a seemingly normal girl with a secret to an extraordinary girl with many secrets will draw readers in and leave them wanting more! Cara Bertrand's sharp writing makes the unbelievable utterly believable, and the well-drawn characters likeable and equally despicable and, in Carter's case, irresistible. Tinged with mystery from page one,
Lost in Thought
keeps readers guessing from beginning to end, and will appeal to paranormal romance fans of all ages.” – Amy Ackley, author of
Sign Language

“Compelling and solid, this paranormal thriller has it all: love, murder, intrigue, mind games, and a bit of mystery.” –
Publishers Weekly

“X-Men meets teen romance…Fans of paranormal romance will find a lot to like in
Lost in Thought,
this vividly written tale sets the stage for an exciting series to come.” —Jill Baguchinsky, author of
Spookygirl

“…a quietly compelling supernatural romance. A promising start to a series that will find a fan base.” – Danielle Serra,
School Library Journal

“Vampire Academy
meets
Spellbound…
Simply put,
Lost in Thought
is an absolute must. You'll fall in love with the shocking story and amazing ending.” – Samantha Pomier,
Girls' Life Magazine

“Fans of paranormal romance, as well as readers who enjoy stories that delve into ‘what-if,' will certainly enjoy this first installment from Bertrand.” – Beth Green,
VOYA

“I very much enjoyed this book. I love weird goings-on at boarding schools, but this book is not as Lois Duncan as I was expecting…even though it's definitely paranormal, it feels very contemporary, too. Recommended. –
kellyvision

“Cara Bertrand has created a world I intend to visit again…with the next book.” –
booksandwhatnot.com

M
y boyfriend is going to kill me.

It was the same thought I woke to every single morning, bolting upright in bed before reminding myself sternly that he only might kill me. The future was never definite.

I would change this.

If I could.

L
egs a little wider, Lainey,” Carter's voice sounded in my ear. “Good.” He reached around me and pushed my arms up a little higher.
“Perfect.”

“I'm really getting better at this, aren't I?” Probably I shouted, but I couldn't help it.

“You're a natural,” he replied. It sounded like a whisper. He caressed my arm once more. “Okay, shoot.”

I sighted the target down the barrel of my Smith and Wesson and fired.

After ten rounds, I clicked the safety into position and lowered my gun, pulling off my earmuffs and safety glasses as the target came whirring up the motorized track.

“Very nice, Lainey,” Jeff Revell, Carter's uncle, said from a short distance away. “All ten hits. I'm impressed.”

I smiled over my shoulder at him. “Thanks! It might be my best round yet.”

Carter stepped up behind me again, pulling the target out of the clip while scanning it over. “Definitely. I'm impressed too.” He leaned in and kissed me lightly on the cheek, his lips lingering close to my ear, where he really did whisper this time, “And I didn't even help.”

I elbowed him in the ribs. “You're right,” I agreed. “You
didn't
help. Sometimes I think you
try
to mess me up.” He just laughed and squeezed my arm before putting on his own ear protection and glasses and stepping up to his booth. I knew what he'd really meant though. With his Thought Mover abilities, Carter could “help” with my shooting in a way no one else could. I considered it cheating and had expressly forbidden him from doing it.

We were in the private range at the local rifle club, a place I never thought I'd visit let alone become a member. But it was a popular destination around Northbrook Academy, in the northwest corner of Massachusetts, and over the summer, it had become one of my favorites. When Carter first told me about his surprising hobby, I'd freaked out and refused to ride in his car if there was a gun in it. Of course, he'd laughed and explained he never
carried
a gun. He kept them at the range, and now I did too.

Shooting with the two of them came with definite benefits. First, they were both crack shots and excellent instructors. Second, because of Jeff's retired military status and their long-time membership, they got all sorts of privileges, including regular use of the private range. The general club range was larger, louder, and constantly bustling with distractions. I always shot better in the private room, where there were only three stalls, soundproofed walls, and never any outside observers. A private gallery kept anyone watching hidden and silent behind a dark pane of mirrored, one-way glass.

“Another round?” Carter asked, after he and Jeff looked over their nearly perfect targets. They'd stay all afternoon given the chance.

But after getting up early for a final shift at one of my summer jobs—as the counter waitress at Dad's Diner, where Carter and I had gone on our first “date”—I was exhausted. “Can't,” I told him. “My arms are shaking, and I need a nap all the way until tomorrow.”

“Back to reality,” Carter said as he walked me to the parking lot. He grinned, but it was forced, more a sigh than a smile. Neither of us reached for our keys as we stood together. When we left, it would mean the end of our weeks of summer fun, filled with trips to the beach, trips to the shooting range, and zero hours of homework.

“Back to work,” I said, leaning on my car and pulling Carter closer.

“Back to studying.”

“Back to you
distracting me
from studying.”

He rested his hands on my hips with a
real
smile this time and kissed the end of my nose. “I am an
excellent
study partner.”

“If I don't want to study.” I pushed on his chest with my palm but it didn't move him. I left my hand there, where I could feel his heartbeat, and he leaned in to kiss me again.

“How about, back to friends and fires in the fireplace? It's not all bad.”

“Back to sweaters and boots and no-more-tan,” I countered. “Goodbye, beach weather.”

“Hello good running weather.”

“You'll miss the beach, too.”

He shook his head, leaning in even further. “No, I'll miss
you
on the beach. I like fall.”

“Well, I like summer, and
you,
so I'll miss the beach
and
all the extra time with you.”

“Then I'll have to make the most of the time we've got.”

He kissed me goodbye with an enthusiasm that made his words into a promise and I didn't want to let go. I didn't
ever
want to let go. If I could have folded myself into Carter's kisses and lived in them, I would have. Finally, I pulled back, leaning my head against his broad chest and closing my eyes.

If only I knew how
much
time we had,
I thought to myself, before lightly tracing my fingers up Carter's arm. He hugged me tighter then, and I
melted into his embrace, wishing it was the whole reason for my touch.

But it wasn't.

As soon as I brushed his bare skin, I opened my Grim Diviner senses—the ones that told me how people died or were
going to die
—to try again to see my future more clearly. A few months ago, when I foresaw that
I
was going to die, and that somehow Carter would be the cause, there were no details to tell me how or when.

But despite checking once, twice, twelve times a day since, there was still nothing new.

I'
D MEANT WHAT
I told Carter before we left the range—I couldn't wait to get back to my room and sleep all the way until the students arrived tomorrow.

When I finally walked up to Marquise House, my dorm, I discovered a pale blue chair outside the building. I stared at it, admiring how the soft fabric matched the sky. It looked comfortable, like I could curl up in it and read a book or fall asleep right there on the front porch. I contemplated doing either of those things, but I already knew exactly how comfortable the chair would be. When I'd left that morning, it had been located in my room.

I looked around and considered the possibilities. One, I'd been robbed. If that was the case, they weren't very good at it and had left behind a huge and expensive piece of evidence. Or two, Amy Moretti, my roommate and absolutely best friend in the world, had come back to campus a day early. I hurried up the stairs to find out why our furniture was leaving the building.

The second I opened the door to my room, I slammed it shut in front of me. Maybe I
had
been robbed. Either that, or I was at the wrong room—the place was a mess, furniture pushed around haphazardly and half-covered in sheets, and the wrong
color.
It used to be
blue, like the chair. The walls behind this door bore a mix of soft and darker, gem-toned green.