1. Gemma

1 GEMMA

I’m floating in a sea of stars with my hand outstretched toward one in particular. It’s the smallest of the sparkling lights and illuminates with a violet glow that matches my eyes. I feel drawn to it, as if it’s whispering my name, begging me to connect with it.

I fly over to it. I’m not even sure how I’m flying; I just know that I am. I peer over at my back to see if I have wings. There is nothing there but streaks of silver that whisk into the darkness that funnels around the starlight.

I think I might be in the Afterlife …

No, that can’t be right. I think I’ve been there before, and it doesn’t look like this …

But how have I been there? I’ve never died before. And I’ve lived a typical keeper life where I go to school to be trained, spend time with my friends, get annoyed by my best friend’s brother, Alex, who is quite literally the most annoying person I’ve ever met. I don’t even know why I’m thinking about him right now. I need to stop.

But the more I try, the more thoughts of Alex and his stupid green eyes flood my brain. I mean, his eyes aren’t stupid. They’re super pretty, and every girl who attends Keeper Academy thinks so. So does Alex.

Again, with the Alex thoughts. I want to smack myself in the head. Instead, I reach for the star, which for some weird reason has begun to shine brighter.

What the heck ? —

Bright light pierces the darkness and images illuminate through it.

Me sitting beside a lake with someone. Me walking through a field of flowers, again with the same person. Me dancing at the school dance with, once again, the same person. None of this makes sense since these things haven’t occurred. I also can’t see who the person is. They’re tall with short dark hair and broad shoulders, but their back is turned toward me …

But then one of the images shifts, and their face comes into focus.

I crinkle my nose at the green eyes staring at me through the image.

Alex? What kind of freak dream is this ? —

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The screech of my alarm clock yanks me out of dreamland. I’d be relieved, considering I was having a dream with Alex in it, but I’m so tired from staying up all night, studying information about stars.

It’s something I’ve been obsessed with for a while, mostly because I have always dreamed about them. The first one happened when I was like five, and it’s continued on over the years, always similar, with me floating in empty space amongst them, the smallest drawing me to it. I took a dream interpretation class, but that was no help. I don’t think the professor was an expert, despite what they said.

I sigh heavily as I blink the tiredness from my eyes.

“Gemma, are you up?” my mom shouts from downstairs.

I resist a sigh again. I love her to death, but I’m eighteen years old, and she thinks I still need to be woken up by her. Sometimes I wonder if she still sees me as a kid when, in reality, I’ll be graduating in a handful of months. After that, I’ll start working as a keeper, fighting off paranormal creatures that want to take over the world and all that stuff.

If I’m being honest, a part of me is unsure what I want to do. Sometimes I dream of simply floating away to the stars?—

“Gemma!” my mother shouts again. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah!” I yell back then throw off the covers as I sit up and lower my feet to the floor. I stretch and yawn before standing up and heading over to my closet.

My room is fairly spacious, with nice furniture and decorated in purple, which is my favorite color. My eyes are a bit lighter than the shade of purple that I prefer, but I like my eye color. Although, it’s a totally uncommon and alarming color, and I’ve never seen anyone with eyes like mine, except my dad, but his are a bit more grayish-purple. I kind of like the uniqueness of mine. Well, for the most part. There have been times when I’ve been teased about them, but it’s usually easy to shrug off. One time being an exception to this.

Alex.

Stop thinking about him! What is wrong with you?

Shaking my head at my thoughts, I grab a gray crop top, high-waisted baggy jeans, and my favorite pair of Converse sneakers. Once I’m dressed, I pull my long brown hair into a ponytail, dab on some lip gloss, frame my eyes with a hint of liner, then grab my bag and head out.

The house my family lives in is old but fixed up. It’s a quaint, two-story brick home that is located in the center of the town where the Keeper Academy is located. Almost everyone who lives in the area is a keeper, and the population is on the lower side. There are other towns that have other academies, but my parents have lived here all their lives, just as their parents had, and so on and so on. I’ve heard them mention a few times that they want me to follow in their footsteps. The problem is, I’m not so sure I want to. I feel this itching desire to go see other places. I’m not positive what those places are, but I feel like I belong somewhere else.

It’s an odd feeling, for sure; one I can’t shake, and one I have no clue what to do with.

“Good morning, my beautiful daughter,” my mother greets me as I wander into the kitchen. She’s sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. She has the same color hair as mine, but hers is shorter, and she’s wearing a pantsuit, which means she probably has a council meeting to attend this morning.

My father is cooking breakfast and is in the middle of flipping over pancakes. He’s wearing comfy pants and a T-shirt, an indicator that he’s staying home today. Not that he won’t be busy. My father takes care of a lot of the house and family stuff, and he’s also a foreseer, so he spends time mediating; otherwise, the visions can become too much and he risks going crazy. It’s happened a few times over the course of history, especially when someone possesses the foreseer power along with another one.

Since my dad is both a keeper and a foreseer, he has to work to keep his mind and inner eye center. I’ve often wondered what it’s like to have the ability to see the future. He rarely uses the gift, however, because, according to him and many other foreseers, “looking into the future is a dangerous game that could lead to a disastrous butterfly effect,” so they only peer into crystal balls when absolutely necessary.

I wish I could do it, mostly for selfish reasons, like, to see what my future actually holds. Since I don’t possess the inner eye, though, I have to settle for a magic 8 ball, and mine’s a freaking asshole, always giving me the answer: ask again later.

I think it might be broken. Or maybe I am …

“Gemma, did you hear anything I just said?” My mom’s voice tugs me from my thoughts.

“Hmm …?” I stare at her stupidly.

She sighs in that way that reveals I’m tiring her—story of my life, let me tell you. “I asked if you have classes all day today.”

I head over to grab a pancake from the plate on the counter. “No, but I’m doing stuff with Aislin after morning classes.” And by stuff, I mean witch stuff.

On top of my best friend being a keeper, she’s also a witch and has all sorts of cool powers. My mother is wary about me helping Aislin mess around with spells and stuff, so I don’t tell her what we’re actually doing, and that’s attempting to cast a love spell. Not that I believe it will succeed—Aislin’s spells usually only work fifty percent of the time—but it’s fun trying because we get to travel to a supply store that’s out of town.

“Doing what?” She starts to interrogate me.

I internally sigh. Here she goes again, treating me like a kid instead of an eighteen-year-old about to graduate and go out on her own.

“Just stuff,” I reply vaguely, then add, “Cute guy stuff.” See? I can be truthful. I’m just leaving out some details.

“What?” Dad snaps his head in my direction. “What does that mean?”

I smile sweetly at him then stuff half the pancake into my mouth without putting syrup on it. “I’m late for school. Gotta go.” I hurry toward the front door.

“Gemma,” my mom calls out as I pull the door open. “Remember we have that dinner thing later tonight. You’re expected to be there.”

I grimace, but call out, “Okay.” Then I rush out the door and step outside before they can bombard me with more questions.

Shaking my head, I start down the stairs. This dinner thing tonight is going to suck big time. It’s at the council building with the council members and their families. Aislin will be there, so at least there’s that.

Speaking of which … Aislin’s cherry red Jeep Wrangler is parked in the driveway. Since the weather is warm and the sun is shining in the crystal-clear blue sky, she has the windows down, and the music playing from the stereo is kind of loud. She doesn’t even notice me until I open the passenger door.

“Dude, you scared the ever-living pixies out of me,” she says as she turns the volume down a smidgeon. Her short, dark hair is curled, her makeup flawless, and she’s wearing a blue dress and matching heels.

Aislin and I are the opposite, and yet that works for us. We just clicked from the moment we met and have been best friends ever since. I’m grateful for her because I sometimes have a hard time making friends.

“Maybe that’s because you couldn’t hear anything over the music,” I reply as I climb in and shut the door.

“Okay, Grandma,” she teases as she shifts the car into reverse.

I roll my eyes but smile. “Hey, you know I love music. Just not the crap you listen to.”

She narrows her eyes at me, but it’s a playful move. “It’s better than that rock crap you’re always listening to.”

I reach for the seat belt. “It’s called music. I don’t even know what the heck to call this stuff you’re listening to now.”

“It’s called taste,” she quips with a cheeky grin as she steers onto the road that leads out of the subdivision. The houses that border the street are all different, giving the area a unique look. “Speaking of music, have you heard about that concert that’s happening nearby in a few days?”

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “No, what band is it?”

“It’s actually a festival that has a ton of bands from various different music genres,” she explains. “Alex was telling me about it this morning. It sounds fun. We should go.”

I waver at the mention of her brother.

When she glances at me, she heaves a sigh as she slows down at a stop sign. “Oh, come on, bestie. We don’t actually have to hang out with my brother. I just heard about the festival from him.”

Logically, I know she’s right, but my aversion to Alex runs deep, like the scar on my arm from when I broke it.

She makes a turn, heading for the drive-thru coffee shop we frequently stop at before school. “I seriously don’t get what’s up with you two. I mean, I know Alex can be a cocky jerk, and I know he used to tease you, but I feel like he’s been better the last few years.”

Her point is valid—I’m aware of this—and yet, my lips twitch at the mention of his name. “He just drives me crazy. And I know he feels the same way about me.”

She presses her lips together as she drums her painted fingernails against the top of the steering wheel.

I feel bad. She’s stuck in the middle.

“I’ll go to the music festival.” I decide to let go of my issues with Alex, at least for that particular night.

She perks up. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know what bands will be there, but it’ll be fun just to go.”

“Awesome.” She smiles as she turns into the coffee shop parking lot. “You want a medium or a large today?”

With how restless my sleep was last night, I reply, “Make it an extra-large.”

About fifteen minutes later, Aislin and I are heading across the parking lot and toward the entrance to the academy. It’s a godly-like structure with pointed towers and wide columns that stretch toward the sky. An iron gate encompasses the acres of forested land that surround the academy, and mountains tower in the distance.

It’s pretty but secluded, and I often wonder if I’d find a glittery city more appealing. But, since I haven’t traveled to many places, who knows?

“Are we still on for that thing today?” Aislin asks as we make our way up the stairs that stretch toward the domed entrance of the school. Other people are wandering around, heading inside, with class starting in a few minutes.

“Yeah.” I inch closer to her to swing around a couple making out in the middle of the stairway. “Although, you still haven’t explained why you want to practice that specific spell.” I glance at her with my brow arched. “Unless it’s to make you-know-who do you-know-what with you.”

She’s rummaging through her bag but lifts her gaze to aim a pressing look at me. “Shh … Not out in the open,” she warns.

“I didn’t even say anything,” I gripe. “I spoke in code.”

Nervousness remains on her features. “I know. I’m just …” She anxiously glances around.

“I know,” I tell her, knowing full well what the cause of her anxiety is.

Love spells are risky, forbidden and, most of all, the guy I am referring to is our friend, though Aislin wants to be more with him.

She releases a breath before returning to looking in her bag. “I don’t think I brought my …” Her words fade away as a familiar buzzing floods my body.

So, this is something I’ve never told anyone and won’t. It’s also a small part of why I loathe being around Alex—I can feel his presence before seeing him. It’s something that’s happened since the first day I met him when we were just kids.

He’s behind me, I think, coming up the stairs.

I do my best to play calm, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

“You two are running a bit late.” His voice floats over my shoulder and causes the buzzing to increase.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m going crazy because he appears to not feel anything around me. And that would be okay—it’s not like I like him—but it sucks to feel anything for him when he’s a cocky jerk.

I resist an eye roll and quicken my pace without glancing over my shoulder at him.

“We’re fine,” Aislin tells him then says to me, “Bestie, hold my coffee for a second so I can see if my book is in here.”

I pause, summoning a deep breath before turning around, making sure to keep as neutral of an expression as possible.

Aislin has stopped in the middle of the stairs and has her bag in front of her. Just beside her is Alex. His green eyes are on me, and his short, messy brown hair is lightly blowing against the warm, gentle breeze. I’m on the taller side, yet he is, too, and lean muscles cover his body.

“Hi, Gemma,” he greets me with a teasing smile that makes me want to flip him the middle finger.

Instead of answering, I backtrack to where they’re standing and take Aislin’s coffee, holding it in one hand and mine in the other.

“I guess no hello for me this morning, then,” he says while slipping his hands into his pockets. His voice is filled with amusement, but that’s typical for him.

I keep my gaze fixed on Aislin. “What book are you even looking for?”

“My spell book.” Her voice is tinged with frustration. “It’s the one Zoe lent me. Crap, I think I left it at home.” She takes the coffee from me. “I have to go get it. I already forgot it like three times already. I’ll see you at lunch.” She takes off down the stairs while I turn and head upward.

“She’s so scatterbrained sometimes,” Alex remarks while following me for some reason.

“She is not,” I feel the need to defend my best friend, though Aislin is a bit forgetful.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I was just stating a fact.” He moves up to walk beside me. “I think you know that, too.”

I look up at him, coming to a stop at the top of the stairs. “Okay, fine, she’s a bit forgetful, but we all have our faults.”

“I know.” He eyes me over. “Why do you always take offense to everything I say?”

“Because everything you say has an underlying meaning.” I cross my arms. “Maybe if you said something genuinely nice, I wouldn’t.”

He reclines back and rests his arms on the railing. “I’m nice. You just think I’m not, even when I am.”

He could be right, but I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of hearing me say that.

“Prove it then,” I challenge. “Do or say something genuinely nice.”

He rubs his lips together, considering. Then he pushes away from the railing and steps toward me, the bottom of his boots scuffing against the concrete.

I tilt my head up to meet his eyes, confusion webbing through me. “What’re you doing?” The buzzing is increasing inside my veins, making it hard to think clearly.

He wets his lips with his tongue. “You look beautiful today. You always do.”

“W-What?” I stammer.

He starts to reach for me—I think, anyway—but right then, my friend, Henry, walks up to us. His blond hair is swept back, and he’s sporting a gray shirt and slacks.

“Dude, I’m so glad I found you,” he tells me while flicking a puzzled glance at Alex, probably because of his close proximity to me. Henry quickly looks away from him and focuses on me. “I have to talk to you, like, right now. It’s about that thing.” He gives me a pressing look.

“What thing?” Alex asks, his soft tone clipped with irritation.

When I look at him, he’s glaring at Henry.

Henry shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Um …”

“That’s none of your business.” I cringe at how breathless I sound but attempt to convince myself that it has nothing to do with what just happened. Alex was messing with me—I get that. He doesn’t think I’m beautiful. In fact, according to him, my eyes are weird.

With that, I step toward Henry. “Come on; let’s go talk somewhere else.”

He nods, and we start toward the entrance door nestled between a row of columns.

I wish I could say that the farther away I got from Alex, the less he was on my mind. But the lingering buzzing in my veins is a reminder that he affects me more than I want. If only I knew why.