Celestra Series Books 1-3

by Moore, Addison

  He takes a hold of the back of my neck.

  White noise! White noise!

  I try to focus on my breathing, the stars—his eyes.

  I need to be with Michelle tonight. I’m getting very close.

  My heart sinks like granite.

  “I guess I’ll see you around,” I say maneuvering myself into the throngs of bodies.

  32

  Jealous

  I can’t stand watching him with Michelle. Why does he care so much about a stupid diary when it hurts me?

  Gage follows me around like a puppy—an apologetic puppy who thrives on my attention.

  “You know he’s just using her, right?” I motion over to the two of them sitting by the roaring fire. Michelle has her arms around Logan’s midsection, and he’s caressing her neck. “He’s just listening in,” I say.

  Gage doesn’t appear too amused.

  “I would never do that to you.” There’s something sincere in his tone, and I wholeheartedly believe him.

  “Why does he want this diary so bad anyway?” I whisper.

  “He thinks it has some vital piece of information.”

  “To what? Get her killers?”

  He shakes his head.

  “You know what they say about a fool?” He whispers.

  “What?” I don’t like how he’s comparing Logan to a fool. He looks noble, like a king sitting over there. He has a glow about him that outshines the fire.

  “Give him enough rope—he’ll hang himself.” Gage seems rather proud of his euphemism.

  We watch as Michelle pulls his face down and kisses him full on the lips. He doesn’t thrash around or toss her in the fire, instead he pulls back with nothing more than a blink—it makes me want to go over and knock both of them into the fire myself.

  “He’s gone too far.” Hot angry tears burn the insides of my lids. I look around for signs of Drake or Brielle, but don’t see any. They’re probably rolling around in Lexy’s bedroom. Brielle’s not too shy when it comes to things like that. “Take me home.”

  “Sure.”

  The air outside has condensed a thin layer over everything. It leaves a fine mist over my skin and hair as we make our way over to Gage’s truck. A black one to Logan’s white, and easier to get into.

  I’m so pissed I’m seething. I can’t see straight, partially due to the tears I refuse to let fall. I push them away with the back of my hands.

  “I don’t really feel like going home.” I haven’t even been gone a full hour. If I get into trouble now I don’t think any of this has been worth it. Tears shoot out the corner of my eyes, rapid fire. I can’t seem to get a hold of myself. I start in on a full-blown sob into the palms of my hands, shaking like a freaking baby.

  Gage pulls over and kills the ignition. He snaps off his seatbelt, then mine.

  “Come here.” He pulls me toward him and hands me a tissue from out of small box sitting on his console. “Look!” He marvels tracing the tail of a shooting star with his finger.

  I wish I felt for Gage what I feel for Logan. I thought Logan and I had some stronger than steel impenetrable bond. I was already insanely attracted to him before I knew we were both Celestra.

  I snuggle into Gage a little deeper.

  One great thing about Gage is that he doesn’t have the ability to know what I’m thinking. I don’t have to infiltrate my brain with whitewash to get through a tough moment with him. It’s a huge relief on many fronts.

  He picks up my hand and inspects it.

  “Are you sizing my finger?” I tease.

  “No that’s your other hand. I’m looking for trail marks.”

  “I don’t think I got any scratches today.”

  His chest rises with restrained laughter. He holds my hand up to the moonlight streaming through the window. It looks pale, far too thin and fragile to be mine.

  “Trail marks have to do with time travel. They’re white dots that bleach into your skin. No one knows why they appear, they just do.”

  “Sort of like a passport.” I muse joining him in examining my hands. “Is that one?”

  Gage turns on the overhead light. “Son of a gun. It is.” He hardly breaks out the enthusiasm when he says it. “Where’d you go?”

  “I don’t have a clue. I don’t remember anything.”

  “You must have went somewhere. Think.” He gives a gentle shake.

  “Look there’s another one.” I say perfectly surprised by this revelation.

  “You really get around don’t you?” His dimples ignite on either side.

  I reach up and turn off the overhead light. I don’t want to think about how gorgeous Gage is, when the one I really want to be with is doing who knows what with Michelle, so he can get his hands on paper—paper.

  “How’d you like the kiss?” He asks.

  “It was all right.” I give him a playful shove. Before I can say, don’t do that again, his lips are covering mine. I don’t back away or split his tongue in half with my teeth. I just let it happen. I don’t feel half as guilty as before. A part of me wants to indulge. This might be the very last time I kiss him, ever.

  It goes on for long stretches of time. We don’t tire—just keep roaming around exploring, running our tongues back and forth, making lazy circles, figure eights.

  Deep in my heart it doesn’t feel right, like I’m cheating on Logan with no diary to gain from the whole experience. But I know it really doesn’t matter. Relationships are fickle. I’m just fooling myself into thinking someone like Logan was going to stay with me exclusively. So what if he called himself my boyfriend? So what if I thought he really was? What do I know about love anyway?

  A thunderous knock on the glass startles the two of us to attention.

  Logan.

  Gage opens the door. I’m not sure whether he gets out or Logan yanks him into the street, but a fight erupts. Full throttle kicks to the balls—punching. I see blood, and I don’t know where it’s coming from.

  A pair of headlights stream over the two of them before slowing down. It’s the minivan. I grab my purse and get out. I walk by their brawling bodies without once urging them to stop. I want Gage to beat the shit out of Logan. I hope that kiss hurt him as much as it did when I saw him with Michelle.

  I get into the minivan and slam the slider door shut.

  “Go around them,” I tell Drake.

  And he does.

  33

  Insurrection

  I can feel my cell vibrate in my jeans as soon as I get back into my bedroom. It’s Logan. If he thinks I’m going to engage in some lovelorn conversation until the wee hours of the morning—I glance up at the clock. It is the wee hours of the morning. I pick it up on the third ring.

  “Make it quick.”

  “I’m sorry. Will you accept my apology?” He sounds hurt and sincere and incredibly sexy, but none of that rectifies the fact I can’t get the visual of his lip-lock with Michelle out of my mind.

  “No.” I flick my heels off with a thump. “I’m just being honest.”

  “I wouldn’t ask anything else.”

  I listen to the sound of his breathing until I feel hypnotized by the rhythm. I turn off the lamp next to my bed and lie under the covers with Logan tucked next to my ear in the dark.

  “I wish I was with you. There’s so much more I want to say,” he whispers.

  I hold the phone away while I sniff back tears.

  “I made you cry.” The anger in his voice resonates across the line. “You don’t have to forgive me. I don’t think I can forgive myself.”

  It crushes me to hear him say that. I heave a ragged breath into the pillow.

  “Did you get the diary?”

  “No.”

  “Are you done with trying?”

  Nothing but silence.

  “I guess I have my answer. Listen, I gotta go. Tell Gage I said hi, would you?”

  I hope it hurt.

  ***

  My mother has decided as a just punishment for l
osing track of my sisters I’m to play the part of the family scullery maid, forever.

  I wash the stone floors in the kitchen and dining room with a mop and boiling hot water—literally boiling. She has me don a pair of black Wellies she dug out of the garage and has me heat the teakettle. Once it begins to scream from the pain, she instructs me to drizzle the scalding liquid all over the floor and scrub the crap out of it with a mop that’s missing more than a few dozen threads. I’m beginning to think my mom is missing more than a few dozen brain cells because I don’t see a darn of a difference on the blotchy brown floor.

  “Mom?” I make sure the girls are outside before I continue the conversation.

  “Mmm, hmm?” She doesn’t look up from her crossword puzzle.

  “Did you know that something terrible happened to a girl that used to live here?”

  Her head shoots up. She folds over her crossword and leans in.

  “Yeah, Hon, I do. It’s part of the reason we were able to afford this house to begin with.”

  I stare over at her speechless. If it weren’t for Chloe ending up at the bottom of Devil’s Peak I wouldn’t be standing here today. Fire sale.

  “I also heard it was haunted.” She sounds a little too exuberant over the subject.

  I’d hate to burst her bubble by letting her know it was probably just a bunch of Fems running around trying to kill people.

  “I wouldn’t go sharing any of that with your sisters.” Her lips make a perfect O as they run in through the backdoor.

  “I’m trying to boil the floors here,” I shout after them.

  “You were always the funny one.” Mom scrunches her nose over at me.

  “I thought you were the funny one,” I say. She married Tad, didn’t she?

  “Tell me about this boy you keep sneaking off to be with.”

  I freeze mid swipe. Does she mean sneaking off as in last night?

  “His name is Logan.” I swab the floors with long, clean strokes. “His parents died when he was young, and he lives with his aunt and uncle, one cousin the same age.” I leave out the part about me kissing the both of them, and how I think I might have accidentally fallen in love so quickly—absentmindedly.

  “You really like him don’t you.” It comes out a fact.

  I shrug. The last thing I want to do is cry on my mother’s shoulder over what happened last night.

  “You’re so young, Skyla. And beautiful!” She rises in her seat when she says it as though it were an epiphany. “There are so many fish in the sea. Don’t settle for the first one that catches your eye. Play hard to get. You should be.”

  I don’t really know what playing hard to get does for you, other than make you hard to get. Maybe if I were hard to get, Logan would be drooling all over me instead of Michelle.

  The diary. That’s exactly what Michelle’s doing, playing hard to get. Unfortunately for me, it seems to be working.

  “That girl that died, she and Logan used to go out,” I add.

  My mother drops her pen. “That’s…” she searches the air for words. “Creepy.” Her fingers strum across the granite. “That reminds me. Your father dated a girl who died unexpectedly.”

  My eyes bug out as I continue to swipe the floor—so much death and carnage. What’s the purpose?

  “Oh yeah? You know her name?” I ask.

  “Candy something. Oh, it was probably something like Candace. They were seniors together.”

  I bet I could look her up in Dad’s old yearbook. I bet if I dug around real good, I’d discover she was a Celestra.

  34

  Covetous

  It’s registration day at West Paragon, so Drake drives us down to campus to get our classes settled. Brielle is like a racehorse dying to get out of the gate to show us around.

  I’m used to the practice field so I’m familiar with that much, but this time Brielle has us park in the main lot and we enter campus from an entirely different direction.

  Stone cobbled pavers fan out in circular patterns that extend the entire length and breadth of the walkways. Two tall, brick buildings soften in a cloud of fog so thick you can hardly see the landscape beyond them. If I hadn’t been here for cheer practice, I would never have known the buildings are encased in trees that stretch hundreds of feet into the air like javelins.

  Brielle leads us into the shorter of the two buildings. Inside it’s filled with all of the familiar faces from the parties I’ve been going to. I see Gage and Logan finishing up toward the front of the line. I try to pretend not to notice when I see them making their way over.

  Ellis Harrison steps into my line of vision. He’s sporting wireless glasses and a plaid shirt. I hardly recognize him with the clear eyes and the stony expression.

  “I got you in two classes,” he boasts.

  “How do you know?” I try to ignore both Logan and Gage standing off to the side.

  “It’s posted up on the wall.”

  “Oh. I thought we were registering.”

  “Nope, just copying a list they were too lazy to email. Plus this way they get you to sign up for the after school stuff without infringing on their precious time.”

  Gage and Logan continue to wait patiently.

  “So, what classes do we have together?” I widen my smile. Maybe if they think I’m suddenly interested in Ellis they’ll leave me alone for good. Mama said there were more fish in the sea, right? Ellis is looking mighty fishy right about now.

  Logan steps in between us.

  “Ellis, will you excuse us a minute?”

  Ellis looks from me to Logan.

  “You want me to leave you two alone?” He directs the question over to me.

  “Not really. What were those classes again?” I step around Logan to get a better view of the ledger in Ellis’ hand.

  “Sociology and Algebra Two.” He points to them as he says it.

  “Algebra Two? You must be really good at math. I’m going to need lots of tutoring,” I say. If Logan isn’t writhing from the daggers I’m churning, I’m pretty sure I’m not the fish for him.

  “Are you done?” Logan pushes into Ellis with his shoulder. It’s like he’s gone animal, which reminds me of that roar. His kisses stream through my mind like a slideshow, causing my stomach to bottom out like I’m on a roller coaster.

  “Enough.” I bite the air with my anger. “I’ll talk to you.” I turn to Ellis. “Thank you. I look forward to your help,” I whisper.

  “For the record,” Logan whispers as Ellis leaves, “I tutored him in math two years in a row.”

  “Like I said, you’re a real superhero. So how long before you get your girlfriend’s diary back? A week? A month? Next two years? I really don’t want your excuses.”

  “I’m not giving excuses.” He shifts from one foot to the other. “I checked the schedule. You know how many classes we have together?”

  “You and me, or you and Michelle?” Honestly, I don’t know anymore.

  “You and me.” He looks like a statue of perfection in this light. He’s so gorgeous it hurts.

  A hot spear of raw attraction bisects my abdomen.

  “How many?” I’m hoping for at least three.

  “None.” A genuine look of disappointment sweeps across his face.

  “None?” I say, trying not to sound too alarmed.

  “What are the odds, right?”

  “I don’t know.” I’m perfectly stunned. “What about lunch?”

  “You have B, I have A.”

  “Lovely.” Then I start to panic about Brielle and what about Michelle? Will she be dining with Logan? I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. “I’d better get up there.” A huge knot lodges in the center of my throat. I pull a pen and paper from my purse, ignoring the ones laid out and head over to the boards until I find my name. As I jot down my classes it occurs to me that both Ellis and Logan had to have checked their classes and compared them to mine. I’m not so surprised Logan did it, but Ellis? Interesting.

&
nbsp; I take my list and look down at the O’s. I find Logan and Gage together like usual. Logan’s right—nothing together. I compare my classes with the ones Gage is registered for. English Lit, Algebra Two, World History, I scan down the list. All the same classes. All the same times.

  I try to find him in the crowd.

  “Boo,” he says, standing square in front of me.

  “Did you do this?” I hold out my schedule accusingly.

  “No, I didn’t do this, technically a computer network did. But it’s pretty cool.” His eyes laser through mine, and for a minute I’m right back in that truck again, melting away like delicious warm chocolate.

  Michelle comes in with Emily and Lexy, and the three of them make a beeline over to Logan. Michelle doesn’t waste any time snatching his schedule from out of his hands and comparing notes. She nods approvingly. Her hand flies up, and he meets it with a high five.

  I’m not sure what Logan doesn’t get about the way I feel when I see the two of them together—how it feels like someone set your clothes on fire and refuses to help put them out.

  I rake my hand through Gage’s hair.

  “Yeah. It’s pretty cool.”

  35

  Burn

  Outside the dark sky boils as it seals in the last hot spell of summer. A light pepper of rain falls, refreshing us in this oppressive heat.

  Drake wants to stop for lunch at the bowling alley in hopes to see Brielle, and since Mom and Tad have put him in charge of my whereabouts today, I don’t really have a say in the matter. Tad assumed Drake wouldn’t lose me. I wanted to inform him Drake was very responsible with me the night before, but I bit my tongue. Besides, Mia and Melissa were sitting right there. I don’t want to give them any ideas about sneaking out in the middle of the night.

  The air conditioning is on full blast in the bowling alley. It feels amazing in contrast to the hot sticky climate percolating outside.

  Gage insists on giving me a tour of the kitchen. Large stainless appliances line the back wall. A long center island cluttered with bowls and utensils is bustling with a pair of busy workers preparing the orders streaming in.