by Kristie Cook
It’s a really beautiful house. Too bad it always feels so cold inside.
I find my mother in the kitchen chopping vegetables she’s grown in her garden. “Big game tonight, huh?” she asks. Idle chit-chat is not my mother’s forte. We rarely engage in full conversations anymore, so it’s interesting to watch her attempt to ease into what she really wants to know.
I shrug noncommittally.
When she reminisces about her high-school glory days, I fade out quickly. It’s frustrating how she’ll open up about irrelevant things like high school, but mostly refuse to talk to me about anything to do with being a Magical. I don’t care about her being Homecoming Queen. I’d rather know what the Ascension will be like, if she knows any Elves, if the University I’m set to go to is fun, or if she’s ever had to do something the Council ordered that she personally didn’t approve of.
These are all questions I’ve asked in the past. I’ve never gotten an answer to any of them, and for the life of me, I’m not sure if it’s because answering my questions takes too much time and effort on her behalf, or if it’s because I’m not supposed to know. I’ve learned to just stop asking.
I wish we were close. I really do. But my mom just isn’t warm with anyone—not my dad, not her friends, and certainly not me. As a Nymph, she loves her plants the way my Intellectual father loves his books.
My mother shoves a head of lettuce my way to chop. “Tell me about the shifts today. I’ve already gotten a number of phone calls from up and down the coast from Magicals wondering if they stemmed from you.”
Fabulous. Everyone is in on my business now. It’s bad enough that the Magicals in town seem to know the shifts were mine, but the entire West Coast? I am even more resentful now.
I give my mother the bare bones of the situation, referring to the first shift only, since I don’t really have any concrete answers to share. She’s no dummy, though. She calls me out on the other shifts right away.
I can’t evade her as easily as I can Alex. I have to live with her, after all. So I vaguely describe the second shift.
She sets her knife down and stares at me, hard. “Who is this boy?”
“You won’t believe me.”
“Try.”
It surprises me that she doesn’t try to surge, even without permission. “I’m your mother,” she’s told me in the past. “I’m allowed to surge when I like.” “Fine,” I say. “I met him in my dreams as a little kid.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, but before she can respond, my father strolls into the kitchen. “How are my girls doing?”
Like he cares. Like he ever thinks of me when I’m outside of his eyesight.
As is the case with most Intellectuals, my father is hopelessly myopic in his vision towards life. Pursuit of knowledge is key, and while he’s considered one of the finest Intellectuals in all the worlds, and a distinguished Council member to boot, he’s been an absentee father, both physically and emotionally.
He proves this point by saying, “The Seer has agreed to meet with you,” while awkwardly patting me on the shoulder. “What a treat for you. Astrid Lotus is the lead Seer on the Council. You’ll be going to Annar to talk to her.”
The victorious grin my mother’s wearing makes me want to scream. Even still, a sliver of excitement runs through me.
Annar—the plane of existence reserved solely for Magicals. I’ve never been there, and it’s not for want of trying.
“Now,” he continues, “did your mother ask about the shifts we felt today?”
The urge to scream intensifies.
It takes a good five minutes of grilling before I can escape. In the quiet of my bedroom, I finally get a chance to get my bearings. Someone I’d always believed to be simply a creation of my imagination stepped out of my head and into my math class.
The first time I discovered Jonah in my dreams, I’d been four. Up until that point, my dreams were like, well, dreams: unicorns, flying, stuff like that. But then, one night, I saw him and my dreams changed. They became very lucid, so much so that I remember them more like true memories rather than dreams.
He’d been little then, too. He was sitting near a riverbank, reading a book. There was a break in the tree canopy, and the sun shone off of his glossy hair, nearly blinding me.
I was a goner right from the start.
We didn’t talk for several nights, although I faithfully watched him from a distance. He’d catch me and reward me with a dimpled smile that caused my heart, even back then, to do back flips. But after awhile, my curiosity grew so much that I had no choice but to join him on the river’s edge.
When we spoke, it was like I already knew him.
There was a deep connection between us, stronger than any I had with anyone else. Stronger than the bonds I had with the Cousins. Stronger than what I had with my parents. It seemed crazy, since he was someone from my dreams. But I didn’t care. Real or imaginary, he became the most important person I knew.
Our secret rendezvous were something I impatiently looked forward to every night. No topic was off limits. I often caught myself storing information in the back of my mind just to share with him.
There was no other person who could make me so happy. And then, sometime around the age of eleven, he kissed me. We were sitting in a tree, high above the river, laughing so hard my sides hurt. That dimple of his had appeared, and I just loved it so much I touched it. The laughter faded away and he looked at me intently before he brushed his lips against mine.
I fell irrevocably in love with him. No—I’d always loved him. The kiss just permanently cemented this fact. Our feelings for one another only intensified with every year that passed—we began to see each other by more than simple words and emotions. I coveted my time with him, even though when I woke up I’d remind myself that what I believed to be memories were only dreams, made up in my head.
In the end, it didn’t really matter what the reasons were for his existence—as long as I had him, life was good. And then it became harder and harder to find each other.
Approximately one year ago, a day when we were standing knee deep in a purple ocean, Jonah told me in the most heartbreaking way, “Know that I love you. That I always will.”
It was like he was saying goodbye.
And the weird thing was I had known that same night that I’d needed to say the same thing, too. Because there was this inherent knowledge, just like I knew my hair was light brown or that I was a girl, that I was going to lose Jonah and had absolutely no control over it.
When I woke the next morning, I could smell him on my clothes and in my hair. I sat in bed for hours, hugging my knees to my chest, breathing in his smell, replaying our farewell over and over until I shattered.
He was gone. I knew he was gone. I felt his absence plain as day. Something crucial to my existence was missing, and it hollowed me.
I cried a lot that day and many days after, refusing to explain to anyone where my outbursts were coming from. I fell into a deep depression, one I didn’t really care to get out of. The misery became a companion of sorts, something that told me, dreams or no, he’d been mine. That my heart hadn’t lied.
Things went downhill fast. It was then that the resentment toward my destiny and my surroundings intensified, and I lashed out at everyone and everything.
That was at the end of last summer, and while I continued to search for him in my dreams, I didn’t see him again until today.
I have no idea what to do. And since I’d never told anyone about him, I don’t really have anyone to go to for concrete advice.
I dreamed about Jonah. For years. And dreams aren’t real. They’d felt real, and I’d prayed for so long that they could be real, but they weren’t. They couldn’t be. No one ever told me that their dreams came true. That’s movie stuff, not Magic.
How do you explain him then? the little voice asks. Cora and Lizzie both saw him, so he isn’t a delusion. You need to figure this out. Go and talk to him. Get answers. No matter what.
No matter what …
But what if Jonah disappears again?
A year after I lost him, I’m still bitter, miserable, and unsettled. If we were to reconnect, and he left me again …
I have no doubt. Being hollow would be the least of my problems.
chapter 6
Later that night during our football game’s halftime, I spot Jonah and Kellan. They’re standing near the exit closest to the parking lot, directly in my line of sight. I surreptitiously stare to my heart’s content instead of listening to the Cousins talk, until a couple of girls descend upon the two boys. To my relief, Jonah takes a cell phone from his brother and heads out into the parking lot just before the girls reach them.
Kellan looks, for the briefest moment, like an annoyed deer caught in the headlights of these girls. As I study him, a slew of questions hit me: Where did Jonah go? Why did he leave? Is he really the Jonah I know? Did he dream about me, too? Does he remember me? Had he seen me on the field? Does he want to talk to me? Should I ignore Kellan? Should I talk to him? Speaking of, why didn’t I ever know Jonah had a twin? I should’ve known, right?
I swear, the little voice sighs, sometimes you give me a headache.
I decide to live in the moment. I lurch forward, one foot in front of another. I block out the questioning looks on Cora’s and Lizzie’s faces, as well as Alex’s suggestion to find him ice cream. I just keep walking until I reach Kellan.
Have you thought this through?
But I’m tired of overanalyzing everything. This feels like the right thing to do. Still, my insides are quaking, forcing me to take a deep breath to steady myself. I’m not sure if it’s because Kellan looks so much like Jonah. Maybe it’s because of the way my hand tingled long after we ceased touching this afternoon.
Then again, maybe it’s because I’m acting like a crazy person. I stop directly in front of him. “Hi there!”
He grins, somewhat surprised but definitely amused. The pretty girl standing closest to him is annoyed, though. I know why, but she can flirt with Kellan later. I need answers.
“So.” He focuses on me. “Nice cheering tonight.”
And then, I can smell him. It’s a warm smell, a little spicy, and definitely not what I remember Jonah smelling like. It’s rather intoxicating, which is …
NOT A GOOD THING.
Focus! “Yes, well, that’s what we cheerleaders do best! Go, team, go!” I pump my fist up lamely.
Kellan doesn’t seem to notice when the girls leave. “Can I be honest, Chloe?”
He remembers my name! An almost uncontrollable desire to touch his hair rushes through me. Does it feel anything like his brother’s? Because if it does—
Do NOT go there! the little voice demands.
I Velcro my hands to my sides. What was he saying? I can’t remember, so I merely smile wider and do a multi-purpose head bobble.
“You don’t really seem like the cheerleader type. What’s up with you being on the team?”
Wait. What? “Excuse me?”
“The perky voice, either. Can you really tell me that you enjoy sounding like that?”
So not what I thought he’d say. My cheeks burn, but then he smiles this insanely alluring half-grin and my heart jolts unexpectedly.
What the hell is going on?
I desperately attempt to bring the focus back on the information I’ve come over for. “So, uh, I noticed Jonah left. He’s not enjoying the game?”
Apparently, it’s my turn to surprise him. “You know my brother?”
And … this tells me that, while I never knew about Kellan, he never knew about me either. This throws me even more off balance.
“Um …”
“To answer your question, though,” Kellan says, “no.”
I’m lightheaded when his smile returns. “And … what about you?” I ask.
He leans against the fence, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “The same.”
“Why didn’t you leave with him?”
“I was trying to gracefully find a way to escape from the group you found me in. Thanks to you, I don’t have to work so hard now.”
I’m still dazed at that half-smile. Damn, it’s gorgeous.
Why aren’t you scanning the parking lot for Jonah? the little voice demands. Focus! If you’re going to hang out here, at least ask questions that will help!
And then Kellan reaches forward, and I hold my breath as he brushes something off my cheek. His touch is light, but there’s no mistaking how strongly I feel it. My skin tingles furiously. “Was there something on my face?”
When he says, “Just a stray eyelash,” I feel like lightning strikes me.
Which leads me to mumble something lame like, “You should have saved it for me, so I could’ve made a wish.”
More of the grin. “What would you have wished for?”
“Don’t you wish you knew?” I’m flirting, and this is crazy. And wrong. Because I am in love with his brother, and all my wishes have been about him. So, despite still being dazzled by Kellan’s fabulous smile, I finally ask a question about the person I should be focusing on. “So, your brother just left you here?”
He smirks and rubs at his hair in this charming, unassuming way. “That’s sort of how it is with us—one usually takes the fall while the other escapes. It isn’t like I haven’t stuck him in the same situation before.”
“It must be nice to have a brother like that,” I say, and it’s sincere. I’ve always wanted a sibling, but Magical families only produce one pregnancy. “Sadly, I’m an only child.”
He motions towards the concession stands, where the Cousins are still standing. “What about those girls over there? You seem to be tight with them, and one even kind of looks like you.”
It’s surprising that he’s noticed who I hang out with, even more so how he was able to pick up on the distant familial bond between me and Cora when no one else does. So I find myself telling him the truth, or, something close to the truth. “They’re sort of like my … adopted family. I guess you could say that Cora and Lizzie are the closest people I have to sisters, especially Cora.”
“Which one is she?”
I point Cora out, adding, “You met Lizzie today in history, remember?”
He turns his gaze back towards me. “Did I?”
“You cannot tell me you don’t remember her,” I laugh. I mean, it was Lizzie. He shrugs, and I can’t stand it anymore. “Why are you here?”
Kellan looks as if he’s holding back a laugh. “Define ‘here.’”
Oh, to really ask for the truth. I settle for the easiest here. “At the game. You know, since you two hate football and all.”
“We sort of promised our dad that we would come and make an effort to, and I quote, ‘blend in’ at our new school.”
“Do you always do what your father says?”
He shrugs again. “We like to throw him these little bones every so often.”
And then I remember that Jonah’s mother died when he was little, which is probably why Kellan is only talking about his dad. Speaking of Jonah …
I allow myself to scan the parking lot for him. He still hasn’t come back, and it’s making me antsy. Where could he be? But then the buzzer sounds, indicating half-time is over.
“Isn’t that your cue?” Kellan asks.
I’m hesitating, and I don’t know why. I want to say it’s because I’m hoping Jonah will come back, but something in me says, while that’s true, it’s not the entire reason. We stand and stare at each other in silence. A rush of butterflies nearly crash out of my chest, which is weird because Jonah’s been the only guy I’ve ever felt butterflies for. Even though it was irrational, no other guy I’ve dated could live up to him. All the boys I knew at school paled in comparison in every way possible.
So how is it that I’m so attracted to Kellan? Because I think I am, and I definitely know he’s not his brother. And this makes me feel guilty, and confused, and finally forces me to take
an awkward step back.
I tell him I do indeed have to go, but I still don’t leave.
“One would almost assume,” he says lightly, “that you aren’t eager to get back to cheering.”
I nearly jump out of my skin when Lizzie lays a hand on my shoulder. At least she has the grace to look sorry for interrupting.
“Right. Right.” I take another step back. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then. At school, I mean. I mean, in class. In history. You know what I mean.”
OH MY GODS. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
Kellan looks like he’s having a hard time keeping the corners of his mouth from tugging upwards.
Lizzie smiles apologetically. “Sorry to have to steal her away. I should introduce myself. I’m Lizzie.”
“According to Chloe, we’ve already met,” he says, matching her apologetic smile, “so introductions are unnecessary.”
A weird look crosses her face. She turns to me. “You’re talking to Kellan.”
My face warms. “Yes?”
Now she looks pissed off. “Kellan.”
The guy in question tilts his head to the side and studies Lizzie thoughtfully. And yet, she repeats it for a third time through gritted teeth. He must think we’re lunatics.
“So,” Kellan says to me. “I’ll see you later, C. In school. Possibly even in class. Maybe it’ll be in history. Who knows?”
Why does he have to keep smiling at me like that? Does every girl fall prey to … Wait. What did he just call me? “C?”
“Yeah. C. For cheer. You know, your very favorite thing to do.” And with that, I watch him go, nearly burning a hole in his head with my staring.
“Kellan?” Lizzie repeats for a fourth time.
I turn toward her. “Why are you repeating his name so much? You probably freaked him out.”
“I assumed you were talking to his brother,” she snaps. “Cora and I were certain about that. You were flirting, for crying out loud!”
I deny it, but I was. We both know I was. I shouldn’t have been, but I was. And I don’t know why.
chapter 7