Celestra: Books 1-2

by Addison Moore

  I’m dying already.

  4

  Party

  Friday night comes cloaked in fog, the silent impression of a Cheshire cat moon smiles lazily in and out of the ethereal veil.

  The only contact I managed to have with Logan this week was a handful of texts and phone calls. Our entire relationship, reduced to symbols and midnight murmurings.

  Brielle drives Drake and me over to Ellis’, located in the gated community of Paragon Estates. He’s a neighbor of Gage and Logan. I’ve already made Logan promise he’d come to my house later—the butterfly room—the secret room in my attic that belonged to Chloe before me.

  I told Logan we could meet at his house, but he said it would discredit the events that would precede it. He hasn’t even hinted at an argument, and I didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that I know it’s coming.

  Gage probably apprised him of the fact that he let me in on their secret mission to publically obliterate our relationship. I’m sure Logan is expecting me to act accordingly like a good little girlfriend, but I’m not going to. I think we’re going about this all wrong. We should fight the Counts on their own turf and get our lives back on track instead of running in the other direction like a bunch of cowards. Logan seems to think we need a detailed plan of how that might work, but I say we should balls out fight and figure out the details as we go along.

  The party is outside in Ellis’ ranch-like backyard, under a canopy of overblown paper lanterns that illuminate a dull glow. The pool is lit up a stunning glacial blue. There are more bodies wandering around the property than I’ve seen on campus all week.

  “Where’d all these people come from?” I ask Brielle.

  “East,” she says, waving wildly at someone buried deep in the crowd. With only two high schools on the Island, it surprises me I haven’t seen this mass mingling session before. “Most everybody just got back from vacation,” she continues. “The ones that are like sick rich never stay on Paragon,” she says, answering the question I didn’t bother to ask.

  I scan the crowd for Logan; instead, I see Ellis and his stoner friends laughing with a group of girls I’ve never seen before. It’s freaky how many of these girls look drop-dead beautiful. It’s like some superior race of goddesses accidentally dropped off their spawn on the island, and now they’re infiltrating the ranks.

  “Boo,” Gage whispers hot in my ear from behind.

  “Where’s Logan?” I don’t pretend to play it cool. I haven’t been apart from him this long since I moved here. I’ve seen more of his dead girlfriend than I have of him this entire week.

  “What do you care?” There’s a twinge of jealousy in his voice, and it pinches my insides.

  “Irritated much?” I blink a smile. I don’t like the thought of inadvertently leading Gage on. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.

  Then I see him. Logan looks like a god. The gold highlights in his hair are set off by the incandescence of the lanterns strung up on fishing line crisscrossing the pool. His arms look huge bulging out of his t-shirt. He wears a devilish grin from ear to ear looking down at someone and nodding. He shifts slightly, then I see her.

  “Who’s that?” I ask no one in particular.

  “Carly!” Brielle squeals and trots over, nearly falling in the pool on the way.

  I want to say, who the hell’s Carly, but don’t. Already I don’t like her and her long caramel hair, her simple t-shirt and jeans. She looks like someone I used to go to school with back in L.A., some spoiled stuck-up slut I couldn’t stand. I wonder if that’s reason enough not to like this Carly person. Really I just hate her for talking to Logan, for making him smile the way I do, or used to.

  Gage pushes his hand into the small of my back and leads me over.

  “She just got back from New York. You’ll like her. She’s totally nice.”

  My stomach bottoms out. I don’t like the way Gage just referred to her as totally nice. Gage hardly pays attention to girls other than me, which causes a twinge of jealousy to spiral through my stomach. Maybe this is a good thing—a Godsend even. If Gage falls hard for Carly, he’ll cease and desist my faux boyfriend status. We can be friends, the highest form of appreciation I ever want to give to him. And, of course, Logan will be out of his mind once he sees I’m back on the free market, out from beneath the safety of his well thought-out plan. I don’t get why we need to flat out ignore each other. His words come back to me from a couple weeks ago, two Celestra dating are too stupid to live. So what about two Celestra who are just friends? What’s the deal with that?

  “Carly girl.” Gage lunges into a hug. I watch as his hands smooth up and down her back as he does it.

  “Gage!” The light voice of a three-year-old escapes from her lips, it’s ultra feminine, phony, and it makes me dislike her even more. “I brought you guys some stuff. You’ll have to come over tomorrow night, we’ll catch up and I can give you your prezies.” Another strike.

  “Cool. I’m there.” Logan knocks back the rest of his soda before launching the can into a trash bin with missile-like precision.

  Cool? He’s there? And what about me? He hasn’t even acknowledged me yet.

  “This is Skyla,” Gage introduces us. “She moved into Chloe’s old house.”

  Her eyes go dead. A blank look washes through her expression that appears and disappears as quick as it came. I wonder if anyone else caught that other than me.

  “Pleased to meet you.” She extends her hand, and I shake it.

  Who the hell says, pleased to meet you? There’s no accent, so I can’t excuse her for being British or something.

  “Hi Logan,” I say. I meant to ask Carly if she knew Chloe, but my tongue took a U-turn.

  He chews on the inside of his cheek and needles me with a brief stare.

  “Let’s see your new car,” he says to Carly, and they take off in the direction of the driveway.

  Deep down I know it’s all an act, but right now it feels pretty real. Is Logan really that great of an actor? A part of me doesn’t believe he is.

  5

  Broken

  Apparently it doesn’t take long to admire her upholstery. Logan and Carly return within five minutes, barely enough time to trek down the driveway and back. He picks her up by waist and places her on a stone pedestal that sits along the edge of the deep end.

  “I’ll be right back.” Gage heads over to a group of guys from East.

  I can’t take my eyes off the craptastrophy unfolding before me. She tosses her hair and laughs as he makes himself comfortable between her knees.

  “Are you freaking kidding, me?” I say out loud. He leans into her like he’s her boyfriend or something.

  Ellis does a double take. “Carly’s back.” His lips curl up on the sides. “Look at that. Didn’t take long, did it?” He says with no affect.

  “You into her or something?” Please say yes. I’d cheer from the sidelines if he wanted to push Logan in the pool for hitting on her so blatantly.

  “Nah. She’s a tough nut to crack. I guess if you’re Logan Oliver you get a free pass. She’s nothing but a big tease.”

  Instantly I feel better.

  “You should go for her. I think you’d make a great couple. You’d be like totally cute puppies.” I ramble in an effort to get him on my team.

  “Nope. You’re on your own with this one. I’ve got a harem of willing participants. I don’t need the ice queen shutting me down at lift off.”

  “Oh, she burned you.” I’m burning now. I can’t lose Ellis. He needs to want her in order to divert her. “You should get her back. You know, go out with her and dump her harshly.”

  He erupts in loud unexpected laughter.

  “Maybe I should. But I have to wait until the well runs dry.” He glides over to a brunette with boobs the size of cantaloupes busting out of her top.

  With Ellis the well will never run dry. I am so very screwed.

  I lean against the wall, partially hidden by miniat
ure palm trees and watch as Carly rests her shoulder on the statue of a lion. I wish it would animate—swallow her, rip her head off, and vomit it back out into the pool. I’d like for this night to end badly for her even if I have to make it happen myself.

  Then, as if in slow motion, she runs her fingers through Logan’s hair, pulls him in close until their noses bump.

  I’m mortified. Everyone at school, two schools are going to think they’re a couple. Whatever happened to his big idea of playing the part of scary loner?

  “What’s the matter? Afraid of a little competition?” Michelle pops up out of the shadows, her face still sporting the three flesh toned scrapes that pillow out unnaturally. They hold the very strong promise of becoming infected.

  “What competition?” How is it possible that I can hate anyone more than Michelle? Michelle, who kissed Logan, who he was playing while trying to snake Chloe’s diary away from her all summer. How is it possible that a small part of me prefers that Logan act like an ass with Michelle rather than Carly who has clearly ignited a nuclear bomb of hatred deep inside me?

  “She can have all the fun she wants tonight. Next week I’ll make sure he understands he’s mine.” Michelle whispers the words like an incantation.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I hiss. “You’re just going to stand there and let her slobber all over him like some rabid dog? You don’t give a crap about Logan if you’re OK seeing him with someone else.”

  “Obviously you don’t either,” she snips before walking away.

  She’s right. Michelle freaking Miller is right. If I stand in the shadows lurking like some candy-ass nitwit, then I don’t deserve him. I’ll just go over and politely pull him aside, tell him that this is really screwing with my brain and to knock this shit off. Then Carly can go find Gage or Ellis or whoever the hell else she wants to shut down at lift off.

  I cut through the cool of the night, the fog gently lifts my hair as I make my way over a little quicker than I had envisioned.

  “Hey.” It comes out curt.

  I position myself next to Carly so Logan can get the full visual of my impending wrath. He’s so immersed in their snuggle fest, I want to strangle him. I’m about to yank him off and do a repeat performance of what I did to Michelle. Maybe I can carve my initials into his face? Both their faces.

  “Hi Skylee,” Carly meows, before going back to rubbing his nose.

  “It’s Skyla.” Not that I care what she calls me, or if she ever says my name again. “Logan,” I push his arm off her shoulder. “Look at me.” My voice raises a notch.

  “Would you relax?” His eyes lock onto mine, just beneath the frustration there’s the slight hint of something else.

  The group of bodies behind us dulls down to a gentle whisper. So much for politely removing ourselves so we don’t cause a scene.

  “Logan, I need to talk to you real quick.” My voice quivers. I can’t stand the thought of losing it in front of both West and East High, not to mention, Carly the great.

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” He dive-bombs a kiss on her forehead, pulls back and smiles at her. She lets out a string of giggles and bounces a soft kiss off his cheek right in front of me.

  “Excuse fucking me!” I shout.

  Deafness falls over the party, and if there were music playing, it’s not playing now.

  “Can you please get the hell away from my boyfriend?” I scream, pushing into her chest until she topples off the pedestal.

  Logan matches my ferocity as he helps her to her feet. “You got some major issues. I’m not anybody’s boyfriend, Skyla.” He offers the sarcastic inflection on the later half of my name.

  My cheeks fill with heat—my entire body ignites like a furnace, and my vision warps with tears.

  “You’re going too far.” I can hardly get the words out. “He’s not being honest with you.” I say to Carly in a more subdued tone. “He’s with me.”

  “What the heck are you talking about?” He roars. “Look, sorry if I made you think this was something more than a hookup, but it’s done. Get over it.” He turns his attention back to Carly, wrapping both his arms around her waist. He picks up her chin gently with his finger and whispers something about being OK.

  “She’s lost it.” Carly laughs as she says it.

  I force my body between the two of them and slip my hand around Logan’s so I can hear his thoughts. I need to know he doesn’t mean any of this. I want to have a private conversation right here with the entire high school population of Paragon lording over us with their judgmental stares.

  He shakes my hand off like it was on fire.

  “Get away from him.” Carly steps in front of him like she’s going to defend him—save him from me.

  With a jolt I shove my hand into her stomach, eject her from the stone-paved pathway, and send her flying clear into the center of the pool.

  A round of gasps circles the crowd.

  “Don’t come to my room tonight,” I hiss as I walk away.

  “Psycho,” he calls after me.

  It rips through my heart like a blade.

  6

  Misery

  I waited for him all the lonely night.

  The dove grey sky outside my window is locked in a motionless fog that obliterates the less important details of the world—blurs it out to where I feel comfortable just knowing I’m still living in it. I love the endless parade of grey days on Paragon. The entire island wears a constant shroud like a ghost from some distant morbid time.

  I head downstairs and find Mom in the kitchen crunching numbers on the calculator. A huge pile of Tad’s work is stacked three bricks high besides her. She’s become his indentured servant and doesn’t even know it.

  “Where’s your master?” I ask, opening the fridge.

  “Skyla.” She doesn’t bother hiding her irritation.

  “Sorry. Where’s Taddy dearest.” I fan myself with the refrigerator door, balking inwardly at its meager offerings.

  “That’s better,” she clicks away at the keyboard. “Golfing.”

  I practically choke on my disgust.

  “And you’re stuck doing his homework? Do you see anything at all wrong with this picture?” I walk over and take a seat next to her at the table.

  “I volunteered to do this rather than go with him. I’m not so keen on walking around grass all day. Besides,” she taps her finger dramatically into the keyboard. “I’m done. You’re not still mad at me are you?”

  “What makes you think so?” I lean onto my elbows and gaze ahead. I can’t stop thinking about Logan and the five hundred ways he diced up my heart last night.

  “Well for one, you’re speaking to me for the first time in four days, and for two, you seem rather over it.”

  Mom apologized through the roof when I finally made it home Tuesday. She thought they’d be feeding me pancakes at the all night diner, then give me a makeover or something stupid. I didn’t bother telling her the only thing they put in my stomach was Emily’s foot. She felt bad enough already. To compound her ignorance, she thought Brielle was in on it too, which she wasn’t. Although, it’s not like Brielle did much for me that day either besides lend me her brush and some lip-gloss.

  “I broke up with Logan last night.” I say it in a slow melodic string. It feels real now that I’ve said it out loud to my mother. I wonder if Chloe’s ghost heard.

  “Skyla.” She wraps her arms around me, squeezes me tight. “I’m so sorry. I know how much something like that hurts. It can be so painful, but you have so many other guys who are interested. It isn’t the end of anything, just the beginning. You want to tell me what happened?”

  “He was with some other girl,” I offer.

  A small choking sound gets trapped in her throat.

  “It’s always that way.” Before she gets her last word out properly Drake walks into the room.

  “Is that why you threw that chick in the pool?” He leans hard over the table in an effort to give me his
full attention. His hair is spiked up in the back, and he’s got white patches all over his face in a medicated effort to clear his complexion. Gross.

  “Skyla please tell me you didn’t push a girl into the pool. Was she hurt? You know she could sue us if she wanted.”

  “She didn’t push a girl into the pool,” Drake corrects. “She launched her like a missile. I swear she was airborne for like ten seconds. I’ve never seen anything like it. Remind me to never mess with you.”

  At least some good came from it.

  “Yes, I pushed her,” I confess.

  “Was that the girl…he left you for?” My mother’s words hang in the air.

  Left me for? It wrings my heart out just to hear her say it.

  I nod.

  “Oh, honey, it’s not her fault.” She cradles me. “You have my full permission to throw Logan into the nearest swimming pool should the occasion arise.”

  My cell goes off in my pocket—a text from Brielle.

  Carly’s house tonight. She wants me to invite you. Please come.

  “Is she kidding?” I say out loud. “Carly wants me to go to some get together at her house tonight. I smell a vat full of pig’s blood.”

  “Is that the girl?” My mother’s eyes light up. “See, women are really above fighting over men. You should go and show Logan you’re over all this pettiness. It’ll send a clear message that you’re above this and that he’s simply not worth it.”

  The timer on the dryer buzzes and Mom takes off after it.

  “So you going?” Drake asks.

  “Are you?”

  “Brielle’s going, I’m going. You chicken?”

  “I’m going.” I shrug, texting Brielle back.

  I’m shaking inside at the thought, but I’ve fought my enemies on their own turf before and won.

  7

  Healer

  That afternoon, I try three different times to fall asleep and make my way to Chloe. It’s no use. I pull off the covers and sit up in bed. I’ve never been good at crashing in the middle of the day. Logan says it’s impossible to control where you end up when you time travel, but I managed to land at my desired location three different times last month. I think time travel is one of my stronger gifts, but I don’t dare advertise the fact to Logan. At least I didn’t when we were actually speaking. I can’t believe he hasn’t called me once since our blow out.