I bounced up and down, freezing and nervous as I waited in line to get on. I didn’t see a single sign of anything yellow and glowing, except for the bus’s lights. I wasn’t going to let my guard down, though. I was going to be very careful and stay close to someone at all times.
A first for me, but hey, this was my life we were talking about here.
By the time I got on the bus, every single seat had someone in it. Great. Where was I supposed to sit?
The little orange lights on the ceiling spotlighted down on me, and I felt like such a loser, standing there searching for someone to sit by. I’d never talked to anyone besides Aislin and Alex. And Aislin was already sitting by some guy wearing a black beanie. My only other option was to sit by Alex because, of course, he was sitting alone.
As I deliberated whether or not sitting by him was an option, I walked by Kelsey Merritt. She was sharing a seat with Anna Miller and Sarah Monroe, all of them donning white coats and pink scarves like they were eight-year-old triplets or something.
Kelsey smirked up at me. “Lost?” she asked vindictively.
I should have known what was coming next, but I was too distracted with the whole where-should-I-sit dilemma, and didn’t notice when she stuck her leg out into the aisle right in front of me. I had very little time to react. I stumbled clumsily over her boot, but fortunately, for the sake of face planting it onto the ground right in front of everyone, I managed to brace myself on the back of a seat.
“You’re such a Loser.” She snickered.
The urge to slap the smirk right off of her face welled up in me like a bubbling volcano about to erupt. I felt the prickle poke at the back of my neck like it was giving me the go head. At least that’s how I chose to take it. I lifted my hand, preparing to strike. But before I could swing it down, a set of warm fingers caught me by the arm. Electricity glittered my skin as Alex dragged me to his seat.
I glowered at him, but deep down—and I mean way deep down—I felt grateful. I mean, what would hitting her have solved? Nothing, except for me probably getting suspended from school.
Still, I felt the need to protest. “I didn’t need your help.” I jerked my arm away from him.
“Now we both know that’s not true.” He smiled arrogantly. “What were you planning on doing exactly? Hitting her?”
“No,” I lied.
He stared at me, unconvinced.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Well, so what if I was? She would have deserved it.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You and your temper.
“I don’t have a temper,” I argued, which yes, I know, was a lie. I did have a temper. A big one. And it seemed to be getting bigger by the minute. But I couldn’t help it. My emotions only got unleashed a couple of months ago. Of course they were going to be a little intense.
“I beg to differ,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
Then we just stared at each other. Through the sounds of people talking, I thought I could make out Aislin’s laugh.
“You know,” he said, leaning back in the seat, “we were getting along pretty well the other day. It seems like such a shame for us to start fighting again.”
I turned to face him. “The only way that’s not going to happen is if you tell me what the heck you were talking to Sophia about.”
“I can’t,” he said simply.
“Why not?”
“Because I just can’t.”
“That’s it? That’s your answer?”
He nodded. “It’s the only answer I can give you.”
I threw my hands in the air exasperatedly. “But you’ve told me absolutely nothing.”
He actually looked a little sad. “I know.”
The bus jerked forward and the lights went out. It got dark. Really, really dark.
And then, we were off.
I turned away from Alex, tried not to think about the fact that I was about to break the promise I’d made to myself to never go back to the mountains, and let the gentle buzz of sparks lull me into a semi-relaxing state until the bus was pulling into Star Grove, a small park that resided at the bottom of the foothills. It was surrounded by tons of trees, and I suddenly wished I’d gone home. After what had happened in the parking lot, I should have jumped in my car, drove back to my house, locked the doors, and never left the house again.
But instead, here I was, sitting in a bus that had taken me up to the forest. All because I'd let myself get distracted. If I hadn’t been so caught up with attempting to get the truth out of Alex, maybe I’d have thought things through better and jumped off the bus before it pulled away.
But I didn’t. And now I was stuck on a bus next to Alex. I wished he’d just tell me what was going on. I wished I could trust him. It would have been nice to have someone I could trust and be able to confide in about the yellow-eyed monsters. Yeah, it was a nice thought. But it was only wishful thinking. And whether wishes were made by blowing out birthday candles, or on a shooting star, they never came true.
In a large, plowed-out area, in the center of Star Grove, telescopes were scattered about. As soon as we stepped off the bus, Alex darted off to the closest one. But Aislin protested, insisting that if we went up front then we’d have a “better view.” I’m not sure if I understood her logic, but I didn’t argue because the closer to the front we were meant the farther we were from the trees.
Aislin placed her glove covered hand on top of a telescope. “What about this one? Does it work for everyone?”
Alex shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re the one who is being picky Aislin, so just choose one already. Gemma and I were fine with the first one.”
Aislin tapped her finger on her chin as she looked down at the telescope, then up at the sky, then at Alex. “Well…if this one’s okay with you guys, then I’d like to use it. It’s got a great view.”
“Yes, it’s fine.” He stomped up to the telescope and twisted the knob, adjusting the lens.
Aislin sighed and retrieved the instructions from her pocket. “Who wants to go first?” she asked, unfolding them.
Alex looked at me, that all too familiar teasing smile creeping across his face. “I bet Gemma would love to go first.”
I rolled my eyes, but stepped up to the telescope anyway. As I rested my hand on top of it, excitement bubbled up inside me. I couldn’t believe it was going to be my first time looking through an actual telescope.
“Which constellation am I supposed to find first?” I asked Aislin.
“Ursa Major,” she told me.
I put my eye to the cold lens and twisted the knob to focus it. Even though Mr. Sterling had given a brief demonstration on how to use a telescope, I could only get the sky to look like a dark, splotchy blur with streaks of sliver.
“Haven’t you ever used a telescope before?” Alex asked me. He hadn’t taken more than a step back when I’d come up to the telescope, and was still standing close to me, invading my personal space.
“Nope,” I said flatly.
He moved even closer, reached an arm around each side of me, and placed his hands on the telescope. Sparks twinkled against my skin like stars. It made my heart melt.
I thought about jabbing him in the side with my elbow so he’d move back.
My elbow wasn’t having any part of it, though.
“Let me know when they come into view,” he whispered, his breath feathering across my neck.
A warm shiver tickled down my spine. The good kind of shiver—the kind that steals your breath away.
Moments later, the sky shifted into focus. “I can see them,” I whispered, awestruck by how beautiful the stars were.
He dropped his arms, but didn’t step away. I didn’t care, though. The view was too amazingly perfect and surreal to care. The way the stars sparkled, and the patterns they created. There was something serene in how all of them seemed to fit together, like pieces of a puzzle. A puzzle that, strangely, I felt like I was a piece of.
As I stood there, gazing up at stars, getting swept away, my head started to hum. At first it was only a low hum, nothing too horrible or concerning. But as the low hum swelled into a full-on shrilling ring, I thought my head was going to explode. I dropped my hand and jumped back, suddenly feeling as if I was falling.
Then everything went black.
The next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of a snowless field. I had no idea how I’d gotten there. Maybe I’d somehow passed out and was dreaming? It didn’t feel like a dream, though.
I felt very awake.
A gust of wind blew up from behind me, and I suddenly felt like I wasn’t alone. I turned around, pieces of tall grass hissing at my legs. In the distance, I saw two figures surfacing; one tall and the other very small.
I couldn’t make out their faces, but it wasn’t because of the dark. A blurry haze blocked them out like bad reception on a TV screen. But the haze only rested over the faces. Everything else was as clear as day.
“We’re almost there.” It was a lovely voice that spoke. Not too high, or too low, and there was no denying it belonged to a woman. It sounded almost familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time.
The smaller figure, I was almost certain, was a little girl. She walked with a bounce, excitement springing in her voice when she said, “I’m so excited.”
“I know,” replied the woman. “And you should be. There is a lot to be excited about.”
They were only a few footsteps away from me now, and I waited for them to notice me standing there. But as they continued by me as if I were nonexistent, I wondered if they could see me at all.
“Hello,” I called out.
Nothing.
I followed after them.
They came to a stop beside a tall oak tree. The silver glow of the moon glimmered across their blurry faces. The only details I could make out about them were that they both had long, dark hair and fair complexions. I was getting a mother and daughter vibe from them. But I wasn’t an expert on the subject, so I couldn’t say for sure.
“Here we are.” The woman raised her hand to the sky. “See that one right there?”
The little girls head tilted up toward the sky. “Yeah, I see it mama.”
So they were mother and daughter.
“That one’s yours,” the mother told her. “That’s the spot from where you fell.”
Where she fell? Who fell? The little girl? What was going on? What was this place?”
I called out again, “Hello.”
“Almost five years ago,” the mother continued, my hello going unheard.
“And that was a very special day, right?” The girl asked, eagerness beaming in her voice.
“Right,” the mother answered. “My very special Gemma day.”
My mouth fell agape. Did she just say Gemma? What was this? “Hey,” I shouted, getting closer to them. “Who are you? And where am I?”
Nothing. It was like I’d gone invisible.
I started to freak out. I needed to know what was going on. But before I had a chance to do anything else, I was suddenly yanked backward. I gasped as the outline of the mother and daughter faded farther and farther away, until they were nothing more than a speck of light.