My first ever non-fantasy novel! Please read and review, and if you have any questions regarding your astrological sun sign/birth chart, just PM me.
Chapter One
Ice water sprayed everywhere. My teeth threatened to chatter out of their sockets. I forced a brave smile and gave Avery thumbs-up.
He sat on a beam of driftwood, looking somehow dejected despite his holy-white hoodie. There was an unopened newspaper on his lap and an uneaten muffin by his side. Of course, he had been waiting for me the whole time.
“It’s a good thing you’re a redhead,” he called. “Otherwise I might lose you.”
That’s not his first joke about nature giving me a built-in rocket flare.
Goosebumps erupting on my skin, I plowed out of the frigid surf. A piece of seaweed clung to my ankle. I felt wild, a sea creature evolving and moving onto the land. It was hard to believe I lived in a world of iPods and American Idol…not a world of sea shells and angelfish.
As I stumbled up the beach, Avery spread out a towel on the driftwood. He tossed another one over my shoulders. Then another. And another. Pretty soon I was a toasty terrycloth burrito. “Sure you don’t want to go in?” I asked.
“And wind up looking like you?” He gave a dry, humorless bark.
I looked down to see that all my limbs had a delicate blue blush.
“Polar Bear Plunge in a bikini…you could start a new Olympic sport.”
“Quiet,” I growled.
He shook his head and unfolded the newspaper. The cover story was laughable, really. Pirate Activity in Astoria!
I let my eyes wander, and they eventually alighted on Avery’s cell phone. The screen said 911, but he had yet to press send. I grabbed it and pressed delete. “What is this?” He tossed the newspaper down and reached for the phone, but I held it tauntingly above my head. “Why do you worry like this?”
“Well, someone has to! If I’m not babysitting, who’s going to save you?”
I thought about the Pennsylvanian tourist that had “rescued” me when I tried to swan dive off the Bridge.
“But you don’t—“
He held up a hand, like, shut up, I’m the babysitter. “Yes, I do. Don’t argue. You’re completely helpless. It’s like you’ve got targets all over your body. I can see it now.” He spread his hands dramatically. “World War Three, and all bombers aim for Chessie DeLinko! Girl labeled threat to humanity, locked in biohazard safe under Oregon!”
“I get it,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But I can promise you this much; I’m not dying any time soon.”
“Want to make a bet?” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a familiar box.
Wow, he was certainly…peppy. I swear, the only thing that brings Avery to life is talking about our own mortality.
He slid the Tarot cards neatly from the box. Their gilded edges shimmered in the light. I felt an electric thrill, like the magic was already coursing through my veins. Avery handed me the deck. I started shuffling, mentally reciting what he had taught me: what energies are coming into my life today? What should I be aware of?
This was a simple reading, the basic one-card. We had done this every day for the past five years. It was our ritual, just like my gotta-swim-no-matter-how-cold ritual.
The cards were smooth and satiny in my hands. I cut the deck into three, gathered the piles with my left hand, and shoved it towards Avery. “Read away, magic man.”
The magic man (a.k.a. Mr. Morbid) wasn’t expecting that card. Neither was I. Actually, in all five years of card-pulling, this little demon hadn’t once graced my spreads. Mostly I got happy cards, cards with dancing, riding horses, and getting drunk on the wine of life. So it was kind of a shocker when Avery pulled The Tower.
We stared at it, unblinking, until the salty air dried our eyeballs.
Black sky, blood-red at the horizon. Column of bricks shattered by lightning. Little people tumbling out the windows, cloaks on fire. More people, broken like toothpicks, on the ground. A total picnic! For the carrion crows.
“Well,” Avery said.
He talked louder than usual, as if he had something important to say. Of course, his voice fizzled out.
I shivered and pulled my mountain of towels tighter. I must have shuffled wrong. People like me didn’t get cards like this. Then I laughed, realizing the sheer stupidity. How pagan could I get, trusting my fate to a piece of paper? Even the box said, produced by AmeriGames inc., Pensacola, Florida. Last I heard, Florida didn’t hold my thread of life.
I slapped the card face-down on the deck and gave a broad, cheery smile. “Let’s forget about it and go get coffee.”
He hesitantly put the deck away. “I’m not sure if coffee can help.”
My heart slid juicily down my ribs. “Y-you don’t actually think it’s…”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been wrong before.”
We both winced at his lie.
A thick, fishy breeze buffeted us, coming from the local fish house. Some ominous clouds lumped on the horizon. Behind us, Astoria looked fragile as a city of dollhouses, just cardboard boxes on the wet cliffs. I almost felt fragile, too. Almost, but not quite. And I wasn’t giving up on coffee, no matter what some stupid Tower said.
As we got up to leave, Avery shocked me by taking my hand. “Be careful,” he said.
I swallowed hard.
ha ha
But other than that, great description, I loved the last two sentences but i think it would work better like: "A total picnic... for the carrion crows." or "A total picnic! For the carrion crows, anyway"... but that's just my personal opinion. 
