Elemental Series Omnibus Edition Books 1-4

by Shauna Granger

“Your nerves, is it because we’re so close to the shore? I know that’s a huge source of power for you,” he explained.

  “Oh!” I genuinely laughed this time, grateful for an out to this awkward situation and to hear the pitch of his voice come back to normal. “Yeah, maybe,” I said. “I didn’t think about it, but maybe.”

  “I’m just happy we’re not going anywhere near the water,” he said with a weak laugh.

  “I know, right?” I replied.

  Steven nodded, squeezing my arm as we went. He was satisfied with that and even Jodi’s jumping awareness faded to the back of my mind with Steven’s, where both comfortably lived when nothing was wrong.

  Now that Jodi was out of my head and Steven was warming back up, I was suddenly very aware of how close we were to the ocean. I’m an Earth Elemental by design, but the ocean covered and surrounded the Earth and shaped it and therefore affected me deeply on a primal level. I could hear the thunder of the waves on the shore. I could feel the tiny earthquakes rumbling under the sand, slipping up and down with the water. A breeze gusted over the top of the last dune as we climbed to the top and paused to get our bearings. Salt and sea were in that breeze, lifting hair and tickling the nose as we shivered. I could smell the fire already roaring on the beach. If Steven hadn’t been standing right next to me, touching me, I would’ve been looking for him. Steven was a campfire to me, warm and welcoming, smoldering and tempting.

  “I see my sister,” Jodi said as we hit the flat of the beach, leaving the dunes behind us. “I’m gonna go tell her we’re here.”

  “Old habits die hard,” Steven muttered as Jodi jogged in the direction of her sister and her group of friends.

  “Yeah, she even called her mother this morning to check in even though her mom knew she was at my house,” I said, making Steven laugh as he steered us in the direction of the main fire. Now that we were here, I could see it wasn’t really a bonfire; a few small fires were spaced out in cooking pits and one large one was in a metal pit above the ground. People brought coolers full of drinks, blankets and towels all spread out in various places, and long sticks and skewers for roasting marshmallows and hotdogs.

  Three or four radios competed against each other, though all were playing similar music, so it was less than the cacophony I expected. Steven claimed us a spot on a blanket close to the large fire and when no one objected to him sitting there, I let him pull me down next to him, inching close to sandwich myself between his heat and the fire’s. I could see my breath in small bursts of white and realized that a light shimmer of that same heat came off of Steven. I chalked it up to the moisture in the air adding to the chill and hoped no one would notice.

  I glanced around until I caught sight of Jodi again and saw that she was still in the cluster of people around her sister, but she wasn’t talking to her anymore. Jodi was smiling and talking animatedly with a boy I didn’t recognize and figured he had already graduated with Jodi’s sister’s class. Jodi glanced over his shoulder and saw me watching her; she lifted a hand in the air to wave at me. The boy turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw me just as I waved back. I recognized him as a football player from last year, but beyond that, I didn’t know who he was.

  “Brady Thompson,” Steven said from my other side, clearly picking up on my surface thoughts.

  “Right,” I said absentmindedly. I looked away from Jodi and to the fire, deciding she wasn’t in any hurry to get back to us.

  “You still cold?”

  “No,” I said, tossing my hair behind my shoulders. “But warn me if you decide to ditch me too.”

  “Jodi didn’t ditch you,” Steven said, coming to her defense automatically, just like he would’ve done for me if it were Jodi sitting next to him.

  “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just saying.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed, reaching with his far hand to draw a design in the sand that was warm from the fire pit.

  “Hey, Steven,” I started, realizing I felt a little nervous all of a sudden.

  “Yes?”

  “You feeling okay?” I finally managed, though I still wasn’t looking at him.

  “I’m fine,” he responded automatically. No teenager was ever fine.

  “Steven,” I pressed, and I felt him tense next to me. I pulled his signature to the front of my mind and, sitting this close to so many fires while the edge of earth and sea amplified my powers, it was easier than ever. Our channel burst open like a raging inferno, engulfing each other’s consciousness. Jodi was still in there somewhere, but right now we were in a universe of our own.

  His walls built up against me came crashing down like matchsticks; anxiety, doubt, and anger swirled in his mind. It was a heady cocktail that had me gasping for a clean breath of air. I concentrated on the feel of his body next to mine; the best way to get out of your mind is to focus on the physical. I opened my eyes before anyone seemed to notice anything was wrong and I got my breathing under control as quickly as possible.

  “Dude,” I finally said, seeing the pain etched clearly on his face, which, while usually so smooth, was now pinched and creased. “Why have you been blocking me?”

  “Sometimes people need a little privacy, Shay.” The words bit at me, making me flinch. Steven saw it and I felt the rush of guilt wash through him. “Sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head.

  “No, no.” I shook my head and patted his arm. “I know it sucks to always have me in there or out here knowing what you’re going through. It should be comforting, but it’s not. Just like it should be comforting for me to never wonder what is wrong with my friends, but it’s just not.”

  “It’s not?” He picked his head up and looked at me with glassy eyes, unshed tears glittering in the firelight.

  “No, of course not. I wouldn’t want someone to always know what I felt; it’s so intrusive.” I looked away from him then and watched the fire, flames leaping and dancing in the breeze. “Now that you and Jodi are so closely tied to me, I know better how it feels. I mean, I always felt bad for prying into people’s thoughts and emotions, but in this last year, it’s really hit home what that feels like.

  “I mean, people like their pain, you know? Sometimes you have to just live in the anguish of whatever and experience it.” I sighed. “You don’t always need someone there ready to pull you out of the riptide and save you. That’s what it’s like for me; I’m watching people drown and I want to dive in and save them. What if I don’t and they do something to themselves?”

  “That doesn’t make it your fault,” Steven said quietly.

  “I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  “Intellectually I do,” I said with a nod, “but does that make me feel any better if I don’t move to help someone who may not want it? No, it doesn’t.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” Steven said, watching the fire like I was.

  “But you’re my brother,” I said, still unable to turn and look at him, his tears now in my eyes. “You and Jodi are my soul mates. Something’s wrong with you, and it’s killing me to see you ride this without my help.”

  “Maybe I don’t want help,” he whispered, and part of me knew if our connection wasn’t ripped open like this, he would’ve kept that comment to himself.

  “Okay, that’s fair, maybe I should ask before I help.” I looked at him then and waited until he blinked back his tears and looked at me. I held his gaze, the amber of his eyes gone to liquid honey in the night. “Steven, is there something wrong? Do you want help?”

  “I don’t know,” he said after a few quiet moments.

  “You don’t know if something’s wrong or if you want help?”

  “Both.”

  “Okay, then I’m going to assume something happened that’s got you feeling all twisted,” I said, watching his face for any hints as I tried to stay out of his mind. But instead of seeing a look pass over his face, I felt a surge of heat as the flames in the pit roared higher.

  “My parents tried to set me
up on a date the other day,” he said, and the scene filled my field of vision, blocking out the dancing teenagers and orange glow of the fires. “With a girl,” he continued. “I’d been out with Anthony for lunch, and when I got back, they were sitting in my living room with my dad’s best friend and his wife and their daughter.”

  “So what did you do?” I knew it was a stupid question, but I didn’t know what else to say. Somehow I knew jumping to his defense and insulting his parents wasn’t what he wanted to hear right then.

  “I mean, what the hell was I supposed to say?” he snorted and shook his head, and the wood in the pit popped under another surge of flame. “I thought they were there for my little brother at first because she’s, like, sixteen.”

  “Sixteen?” I almost yelled, unable to stop myself.

  “Yep,” he replied, shaking his head. “But yeah, so I tried to be polite and I sat with them and let them talk and the girl starts to smile at me and the next thing you know, they’re trying to shove us out the door to go on a date!” Just then a cloud of glowing embers burst through the air, swirling above the flames in a vortex, some dying away and winking out of sight, others catching the breeze and flitting off.

  “Easy,” I warned.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, letting the fire calm back down.

  “Go on, what then?”

  “Ugh, well, then I tell them that I already have a date for dinner, with Anthony,” he paused, taking a breath, “and my dad just blows up and my mom starts crying just like the day I came out.”

  “I didn’t think you ever actually came out.” I wrinkled my brow trying to remember if he ever had. Steven had always just been Steven; you knew he was gay because he never hid it. There was never a day where he pulled us aside and said, “Hey, in case you didn’t know, I’m gay.”

  “Yeah, well, I mean, I was really young,” he struggled to explain. “It was like fifth grade. My mom was punishing me for something and I told her I didn’t think it was fair and she said when my wife and I had kids, I could decide what was fair. I said I wasn’t going to have a wife, but maybe my husband and I could adopt.”

  I couldn’t help myself. Picturing an eleven year-old Steven considering adopting a child with Mr. Right someday and his mother standing there with her mouth hanging open made me laugh.

  “I know,” he laughed a little, “not exactly the most gentle way to break it to them, but I was a kid, I didn’t know it was wrong yet.”

  “It’s not wrong to be gay, Steven.”

  “I know, but to my parents it is.”

  “So that’s what’s been wrong.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry I’ve been so bitchy lately.” He leaned his weight into me and I braced myself with my left hand to hold it.

  “You’ve not been bitchy, at least not any more than normal,” I said, making him laugh.

  “Thanks for not prying.”

  “It was hard, but you know I don’t mean to.”

  “I know.”

  “So it’s been tough at home then?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I was so ridiculous when we got to your house,” he said, and I wrapped my right arm around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze.

  “You weren’t ridiculous,” I said. “We’ve been bitches not realizing how much it bugged you not being let over.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “Yeah, it was.” I could feel his relief easing his tension and a little bit of his anger was slipping away while we talked. I didn’t feel wholly better, but it was a start. I wanted to say more, but I felt him repairing his shields and pulling back from my consciousness so we weren’t filling each other like we had been, so I let the moment pass. I bent my left elbow and lowered us back on the ground so the tips of the flames were just in view, but we were able to stare up at the black sky and the innumerable stars.

  ***

  Jodi found us a little while later; she was so hyped up on an ego boost that her energy was snapping around her like a live wire. She was smiling from ear to ear, and when she fell to the ground on Steven’s other side, she didn’t even seem to register she’d missed out on anything between us. Usually she was very jealous of either of us over our friendship with the other; years of being beaten down by her older sisters left her with a strange sense of worldly injustice. It made me happy I was an only child.

  “Brady Thompson, huh?” Steven prompted, looking up at her since we were still lying back on the sand.

  “I know, right?” she said, a little louder than she meant to, ducking her head, afraid he’d look around and see her, but when he didn’t, she just giggled.

  “Dude, did you just giggle?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbow to look at her. Jodi blushed, but lifted her chin in defiance, still smiling. “He must be cuter than I remember.”

  “Oh, he is,” Jodi and Steven said in chorus.

  “Going out with him?” I asked.

  “Maybe,” she breathed, finally looking away from Brady’s distant back. “He asked for my number and I put it in his cell for him.”

  “Smart,” Steven said, closing his eyes and enjoying the heat of the fire.

  “What is?” I asked.

  “Her putting her number in his phone.”

  “Why is that smart?” I glanced between the two of them.

  “That way she knows he actually has her number,” Steven explained.

  “But he asked for it?”

  “Right, but maybe he was just being nice since she obviously likes him.”

  “Oh, my god,” Jodi gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. “You don’t think I was that obvious, do you?” Her blue eyes went round as she waited for Steven to answer her. He peeked open one eye and looked at me. As a girl, I would’ve said no, of course not, but Steven – although gay – was still a guy, so he said, “That’s why I said obviously.”

  “Okay, but what’s the point?” I pressed, trying to distract Jodi from her panic of openly showing interest in a guy.

  “Well, if he was just being nice, he might not have written down her number or not punched it into his phone right,” he explained. “Then if he never calls her, but runs into her someday, he can just act dumb saying he must’ve put it in wrong.”

  “Oh,” I said, finally understanding. “Guys do that?”

  “Why are you surprised?” he asked, opening his eyes fully to look up at me. “Girls do it all the time.”

  “Right, but that’s usually because the guy is pressing his number on us, so we just take it to be polite.”

  “Exactly,” he said, closing his eyes again. “Oh god,” Steven looked at Jodi then, “you offered your number, didn’t you?”

  Jodi looked at me, the cracks in her ego showing as she deflated right before my eyes. She nodded sadly and fell back into the sand beside Steven, curling up to his shoulder for warmth.

  “I’m sure he’ll call,” I said, trying to sound matter of fact about it.

  “Totally,” Steven echoed, but Jodi still looked like we had just popped her balloon.

  “Anyway, you were talking for a while,” I went on, sitting up now to reach for one of the bags of marshmallows on a nearby cooler. “If he didn’t want to talk to you, he would’ve found a way to get away from you.”

  “Good point,” Steven said. “He coulda pretended he got a call and walked away from you.”

  “I’d’ve known his phone didn’t go off,” Jodi said, sounding morose.

  “Not if he said it was on vibrate,” he said, shaking his head.

  “You’ve done a lot of this yourself, haven’t you?” I said with a smile as I stuck three skewers with marshmallows, waiting for them to sit up to take one each. Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s why we went for it when we were down. Don’t say I never taught you nothing.

  ***

  The night went on like that for a while, roasting marshmallows until they caught fire and we knew the insides were a gooey mess while the outsides were nice and burnt, just talking and
absorbing the heat of the fire and the power of the shore.

  “Dude, how can you eat that?” Jodi asked as she watched Steven twirl his skewer, now roasting a hotdog on the end.

  “I’m hungry,” he said simply.

  “Gross.”

  I laughed, enjoying the normality of it all. Music still battled for dominance and people swayed to the various songs while others curled up together on blankets and towels, letting the night create a false privacy around them. Usually it would’ve been a sensory overload for me, making me build up my shields against so many people, but tonight with the moon heavy in the sky and the water pulsing against the shore, I felt empowered.

  The energy of so many people exuding so many good emotions made me feel like I had when I let the dancing crowd devour me at the concert: primal, satiated, and alive. It was a new calm I had never understood before, and I loved it. Picking off a sticky blob of marshmallow from my skewer, I stuck my finger in my mouth to lick it off, closing my eyes and enjoying the warm sugar coating my tongue.

  “Nasty,” Jodi complained when Steven bit into the hotdog, now steaming and slightly black from the fire. She sneered as she watched him eat it with too much gusto, her nose crinkling in disgust. But as I watched her, I realized she really wanted to eat one too, but knowing what they were made of, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. I chuckled to myself and finished the last of my third marshmallow.

  “How many of those have you had?” Jodi asked me, making me pause my reach for another.

  “Uh, three,” I said a little uncertainly.

  “How can you eat that many?” Just that quickly, I didn’t want a fourth. “After one or two, they make me sick.” She gave a toss of her head to shake out her blonde hair, but it was a short bob, so there was nowhere for her hair to go but back in place.

  I propped my skewer against the fire pit and fell back down to sit as Steven munched away, pausing to say, “Shay, don’t let her make you feel self-conscious; have another if you want.”

  “Eh, three’s enough.” I shrugged. I didn’t want her comments to affect me, but no matter how enlightened I became, when you got right down to it, I was still a teenage girl and other teenage girls could affect me.