first star i see tonight ||one||

A part of her had already made the tough decision. She'd go back there tomorrow. And, if the creepy old woman was there, she'd speak to her in more depth. Because, she had to know. This woman could validate everything she was doubting.

chapter 2

emily

When Teagan woke the next morning, she already knew what the weather would be like. As she rolled over to turn off her blaring alarm, the cold air of her room sent shivers up her spine. The light filtering in was softer than usual, and Teagan knew that the morning would be cold and foggy. Of course, it would warm up by lunch, so she still wasn't happy about the blazer she pulled off her floor. She was never happy about the blazer, though. Its shoulder pads, even after being worn and stretched for four years, prohibited proper arm movement.

Teagan washed her face and grabbed her toothbrush, groggily setting into the motions of another day as she made her way to her bed. Instinctively, in reaction to the cold, she curled her legs up under her comforter as she began brushing her teeth. Michael was right there, waiting for her mind to finally start working. He gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders, watching her inner contemplations play out across her face. She couldn't feel any of this, of course. She couldn't see it. But it was as clear to her as if she could.

He began to hum a lullaby, fuzzy through the muddle of her own mind, as she focused on the motions of her toothbrush. They had fought again last night over her inability to commit. She was angry with him for thinking it would be remotely easy to decide. How could one just choose to believe that they weren't crazy when they were hearing voices in their head?

"Do you remember when we first met?" he suddenly asked, voice gentle. "Well, when you first realized I existed, anyway?"

"Of course," she murmured inside her mind, making sure to get the backs of her molars properly scrubbed.

"Can you recount it for me?"

"Again?" she asked. He seemed to very much like this story.

"Again," he affirmed, resting his chin on her shoulder. The static that buzzed momentarily against her cheek, leaving a lingering but seemingly unreal warmth, told her that his face was rested against her own.

"It was right after we got into that accident on the one-oh-one," she began, remembering too clearly. For the longest time afterward, not a day went by when she didn't remember the deep and ringing crunch of the metal or the blare of the sirens when the ambulance finally arrived. She remembered, even now, the spinning and the panic and the shock. "Marie was taking me to that party up in Malibu. It was going to be my first high school party," Teagan remembered, the memories of her anxiety over the social event pulling up at a corner of her lips.

"It was raining, too. The other car was making a turn in the pass. They were going too fast, and the cars collided," she shuddered, and Michael gripped her more tightly to his chest.

"You can skip the accident part," he said soothingly.

"Right. Well, I was sitting on the pavement, practically in tears. No one was seriously hurt, at least. I kept reminding myself of that. But, it wasn't helping. I was cold and wet and tired. And the guy who hit us was a complete asshole," she said, rolling her eyes. He had cussed them out. "I just wanted to go home. And then I felt this warmth around my shoulders," Teagan remembered, leaning back a little in an attempt to feel him so strongly again. But, the feeling wasn't there. "And I heard your voice, clear as the sirens themselves. 'It'll be okay,' you said.

"And then you sang your lullaby. I couldn't really understand most of it, but I knew someone was singing to me. And I didn't think about how strange it was. It just felt so – so right. Afterwards, of course, I questioned the hell out of you," she said, laughing in her throat. "And you kept saying you couldn't tell me. That there were rules. Looking back, I think you were as panicked as I was."

"Yes," Michael affirmed, as Teagan jumped from – well, really, moved through – his grasp and headed toward the sink of her bathroom. "I couldn't understand how you could hear me and feel me so clearly. It's not supposed to be like this."

"But I'm glad it is," Teagan said, before she could stop the embarrassing output of emotion. He was beaming; she could feel it.

"So am I," he whispered as she spat some water into the sink, face flushed. "I never thought life could be this-"

She looked in the mirror, trying to examine his expression in some strange attempt at being human. He saw this, but Michael still didn't continue.

"Yes?"

"Perfect," he responded finally, kissing her on the cheek. She blushed fervently and threw off her oversized t-shirt. Long gone were the days when she was anywhere near shy about such things with Michael. He had seen her do everything her entire life, after all.

Uniform on and hair brushed neatly into a twist at the nape of her neck, Teagan headed into the kitchen as the digital clock on her desk read exactly 7:30. The garage door roared to life as she pulled open the refrigerator door, searching for an orange or apple for her lunch. Mary Mackenzie entered through the door which led from the garage as her daughter put together a peanut butter sandwich. She looked, after her graveyard shift at the hospital, as tired as always.

"Morning, sweetheart," she called, shutting the door behind her with her foot.

"Morning, mom," Teagan greeted, looking up with a smile. "How was work?"

"Oh, not too bad. Nothing exciting," Mary answered, as, inwardly, Teagan scoffed. She had a very hard time believing that being an EMT was, night after night, "nothing exciting". "When'd your father leave?" she questioned, alluding to the absence of his car.

"Beats me," Teagan responded, placing the peanut butter masterpiece carefully in a Tupperware container. "I didn't hear him leave this morning."

"Figures. He has some important meetings this morning," she informed her daughter. Teagan wasn't really listening, though. Frederick Mackenzie was a minor – very minor – executive for a food company based in the area. He always had meetings about this or that. "Well, I'm off to bed, then. I'll see you when you get home. Have a good day at school, darling." Mary walked the length of the kitchen, gave Tey a quick peck on the cheek, and walked out toward the hall which led to the rest of the house.

Ten minutes later, after being absolutely sure she had everything, Tey headed out for school. The fog of the morning was more oppressive than usual, and Teagan couldn't see more than a block or two in front of her. The feeling was welcome, though. Odd as it was, Teagan had always enjoyed a sense of confinement. Besides, the cool breezes and the light amount of moisture in the air were a pleasant break from the constant sun of Southern California.

They took a little longer to get to school than usual – Teagan was adamant about taking an alternate route in order to avoid the homeless woman from the previous day – but Tey and Michael still made it to PHA before the first bell rang. Lizzie and Abby hopped down from Elizabeth's beamer at the sight of their friend.

"Did you get that film finally developed?" Abby questioned immediately. She was as avid a photographer as Teagan.

"Yep," Tey responded instantly, undoing the clasp on her bag and handing the envelope to her friends.

"What was the project this time?" Lizzie asked, craning her neck to get a good look at Teagan's work.

"Just playing around with reflections," Teagan responded in an off-hand way as they entered the school building.

"Just playing around! These are great!" Abby exclaimed, thumbing thoughtfully through the prints. Lizzie took the pictures from her and examined them more closely as they walked up the stairs.

"Yeah, not bad, Tey," she remarked, handing them back.

Teagan blushed furiously at their complements and quickly distracted the two, "I just wish we had a darkroom here. Or anywhere nearby, really. I hate handing over my film to someone else."

"I know what you mean," Abby said. "But, welcome to the digital age."

"God, you guys are so serious," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. "It's like someone died here."

"We are serious artists," Abby said dramatically, waving away Elizabeth with a flourish of her hand. The three girls laughed and proceeded to collect their belongings from their lockers.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur, and nothing else exciting happened with the exception of a small conversation at lunch. Teagan was sitting with her circle of friends on the springy, slightly damp grass of the lawn. As predicted, the fog had vanished between second and third period, and the hot California sun was beating down relentlessly upon all three-hundred-and-twelve students. Marie and Abby were sprawled out on their stomachs, not paying attention to anyone else as they whispered to each other.

As she wasn't involved in any conversations, Teagan eyed them suspiciously with raised brows. Marie noticed first, and she flashed a brilliant smile in Tey's direction as she pulled her torso up from the grass.

"Teagan," she started, drawing out the word in a very sing-song way.

"What the hell are you two scheming?" Tey responded. She knew her friends too well.

"We've decided something," Marie began, carefully gauging her friend's reaction as she still used her overly cheery tone. "We think you should try out for the spring musical."

"Absolutely not!" Teagan exclaimed, reeling backwards in surprise. The musical? Were they even remotely serious? Or had the both of them lost their little minds?

"You have a good voice," Abby argued pleadingly, knowing this was going to be an uphill battle.

"I can't dance to save my life!" Teagan exclaimed, looking at them incredulously.

"Sure you can! You were top of our dance class last year," Marie assured her, moving to sit up and be at eye level with her friend. Teagan's flashing silvery eyes bore into her friend's beautiful azure orbs, completely unrelenting in their attempt at stopping the conversation.

"They're right, you know," a silky voice answered within Teagan's mind. She scowled and rolled her eyes, not at all wanting to make the argument three-on-one. "You've got a beautiful voice. And you can dance."

"I can't dance," Teagan grumbled, addressing all three of them. "And I certainly can't sing, either."

"Bullshit," Elizabeth chimed in, turning from her own conversation about the pros and cons of all girls schools (a very exhausted subject at the Academy) to argue against Tey. "You're fifty times better than me, anyhow."

"Yes, but no one's asking you to try out for a musical," Teagan mumbled, stuffing a slice of her orange into her mouth as her eyes darted between her three friends.

"We'll try out if you do," Abby said, gesturing to herself, Marie, and Lizzie.

"Um, I won't try out," Lizzie hastily corrected. "I'll burst eardrums."

"Fine," Marie amended, "just the two of us will try out with you, then. It's not like you have to go for a solo, or anything. Just be in the chorus."

"Please?" Abby chimed in, her chocolate eyes hopeful. "I swear, in the name of all things good and even remotely okay, that you'll have fun."

"I'll think about it," Teagan grudgingly responded, as Michael snickered quietly in the background of her thoughts. He had been trying to get her to go out for the school plays since she was a freshman. "I'm not doing this for you," she hissed inside her own mind, silencing him. "Besides, I only said I'd think about it."

But, by the time seventh period was over, Lizzie was bounding out of their psychology class with one question on her lips: "So, you have to sign up for that musical today. You gonna do it?"

"Only if you sign up with me," she smartly responded, hoping this would be enough to get her out of the ridiculous idea.

"No, that wasn't the agreement."

"Tough shit."

"No."

"Then that's a no on my part, as well."

"But, it's your senior year!" Lizzie whined. "You've gotta do it!"

"I don't have to do anything," Teagan snapped quietly. "Besides, I could use that same argument on you."

"No, because I don't sing," Elizabeth retorted, shaking her head of bouncy copper curls. After a tense pause, she added, "What if I join the crew?"

"Come on," said a small male voice, causing Teagan to grind her teeth together.

"Fine," she said exasperatedly. "Go sign me up. I'm in a hurry to get home today."

"What, you got a hot date tonight?" Lizzie teased. Teagan looked up with a glare, and Liz just flashed a smile and began to walk toward the gym. "I'll sign you up. Oh, Marie and Abby are going to be so excited!" she squealed, running out the reach of Teagan's shoving right hand.

"What have I gotten myself into?" she asked Michael.

"You're going to love it," was his only response, and she stormed out of the building, frustrated with everyone, before most of the seniors and juniors had made their way to their cars.

Making it down the drive, though, Teagan instantly grew nervous. She remembered the resolution she had made the day before, and she wasn't exactly excited about carrying it out. Michael tried to calm her nerves, assuring her that they both needed to get to the bottom of the situation, as they walked down the hill and along the street which fed into one of the busiest in the entire valley. As the cars whooshed by to her right, Teagan realized her heart was fluttering erratically in her throat.

"I can't do this," she whined. "It's too – creepy."

"You'll be fine. She isn't going to hurt you," Michael said soothingly. When his words didn't seem to help, he hopefully added, "I promise."

"Your promises don't seem to be good for much," Teagan snapped.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're inside my own damn head," she growled. "You know what I'm talking about."

"I'm trying."

"Try harder," Teagan insisted, weaving her way through the foot traffic. "You keep saying you're trying to change things. But, here we are. And I can't hear you. Not really. And I can't feel you. And I can't see you. And I-"

"I know. Trust me, I know," he said, sounding a bit more acidic than usual. "Don't you think it pains me to know that you can't feel the touch of me on your skin?"

Teagan looked down and bit her lip, feeling guilty against her will. He was right. The whole human-dating-angel thing was hurting the both of them. Teagan was about to apologize when a familiar, deep voice woke her out of the conversation.

"Our gifts always have their consequences," the homeless woman remarked, calmly looking to Teagan as she turned around and faced the bench at the bus stop. "It's not easy to be what we are."

"And what are we?" Teagan questioned uncertainly, not daring to walk closer as she tried to steady her resolve.

"We are the ones who see and hear and feel what others are not aware of," she replied. "We are the ones with the burden and the light. The curse and the gift. We are" – she beckoned Teagan forward and, against her better judgment, the girl took a few steps and leaned in – "the psychics they don't want to believe in."

Teagan stood up straight again, eyeing her new companion wearily. "Who are you?" she asked quickly, glancing around the sunny street. It seemed impossible, in the midst of casual everyday life at the busy intersection, that she could be having a conversation about being psychic.

"My name is Emily," she responded, smiling warmly at the mild acceptance Teagan was granting her. "Emily Mitchell. And I've been listening to you, Teagan, for some time as you and Michael have strolled down these streets."

Teagan's voice caught in her throat and cracked at the fact that this woman knew both her and Michael's names. Knowing her own was odd enough. But, Teagan had never, ever spoken of Michael to anyone. This Emily had to be what she claimed. There was no other explanation.

As Teagan's mind worked in overdrive, Emily suggested in a voice that was, though raspy, filled with grandmotherly affection, "Come, dear. Let's take a walk. I'm sure you have more questions."

Teagan nodded and followed beside the woman, away from her house, in silence for some time. Michael was also deathly silent, trying to work out everything within his own mind.

"What can you do, exactly?" Teagan finally broke the tension as the two of them meandered off the road and into a local park which Tey had frequented in both her childhood and her photographic pursuits.

"I can hear the thoughts of those around me," Emily remarked quietly, as if that were as common as being able to bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies. "Humans. Ghosts. Angels. Demons. They seldom realize I'm aware of their presence. I've certainly never had a relationship with any of them," she said, nodding pointedly to Teagan. Her tone seemed slightly impressed but not at all approving.

"But, don't you have an angel?" Teagan asked, the widening of her eyes giving away her surprise even more than her voice.

"I did. But, she died very long ago," Emily said quietly. Teagan recognized her regretful tone. She recognized the guilt. "I suppose I should amend myself, then. I did, once, have a relationship with one of the unseen."

"I'm sorry," Teagan whispered, trying to sort through everything the woman was saying. "I – I didn't know that was even possible."

"Oh yes," Emily responded grimly. "But, hopefully, my dear, you shall never encounter any sort of obstacle that could bring Michael to such a fate."

He gripped Teagan's hand tightly, and she had the distinct feeling that he wanted her to leave.

"But, didn't you get a new guardian?"

"Of course. But, I've made sure we kept things strictly business. I'm too much of a danger," Emily said. The sadness of her voice was unmistakable. Teagan realized she ought to move on to another topic.

"So, ghosts really exist then?"

"Oh, of course. Haven't you noticed?"

"No. The only – thing" – Michael rolled his eyes at the substitute for "supernatural creature" – "I can talk to is him."

"Hmm," Emily hummed, studying Teagan's face carefully as they slowed by a bench under a sycamore tree with yellowing leaves. "How peculiar. I wasn't aware your gift was currently so limited."

"Currently?" Teagan asked, startled.

"Well, of course. If you can talk to one, you could of course talk to all," Emily stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Really? That's incredible," Teagan responded, the excitement in her voice palpable. She had quickly realized that Emily could help her get to the bottom of everything.

"Now, slow down there, dear," the woman said, sitting on a bench. Teagan automatically followed. "I can't just go teaching you how to do this and that. It would be unethical. You've got to understand what's really going on here."

"And what is going on here?" Teagan asked eagerly.

"You've been given a gift. A gift you've already recognized is also a curse." – Emily shook her head sadly – "Of course, you're barely in the water yet. Just wait until you get in over your head.

"You see," she said after a rattling breath, "your gift signals much more than an increased brain capacity or whatever such rubbish some scientists will say. It signals a connection to another world. One to which humans are frequently oblivious. This world, my dear, is dangerous. I would know; I dabbled in it – no, I completely lost myself in it – far too much.

"I wish to teach you about this world. And the consequences your innate connection to it carries. But, I certainly haven't the time to do so, today. And, besides, Michael's getting rather anxious."

Teagan's brow furrowed at the last comment, but Michael wouldn't answer the inquiries of her thoughts.

"I had best let you go," Emily remarked, standing gingerly from the wooden seat. "But I would very much enjoy meeting you again tomorrow, at the same bus stop."

"I'll be an hour late," Teagan automatically remarked.

"Ah, an assembly," Emily caught on. Teagan looked astonished for only a second. She realized how useful being able to read human thoughts could be. "Brings me back to my own high school years." She smiled a smile that lit up her dark eyes and crinkled the skin around them. Teagan couldn't help smiling, too.

"Okay, then," Tey responded, still beaming at the possibility of tomorrow. "Three-forty-ish, then."

"Three-forty-ish," Emily repeated, lightly touching Teagan's shoulder. "Be good until then. And, Michael, don't worry so much about me. I won't let her go down the same path I stupidly wandered. That's the whole point of my interfering."

She smiled at Teagan again and released her shoulder, and Tey turned to walk away. She and Michael walked home in complete silence. His unusual lack of words was from worry. Hers was from rapid and confusing circles of thought. She was trying to analyze every word Emily had said, and she was trying to imagine what could possibly be said tomorrow.

Her mom greeted her as she walked through the door, and Teagan put on a relatively convincing unconcerned face as she went to sit and watch reruns of the mother and daughter team's favorite sitcom.

"She has no idea anything unusual happened," Michael observed. His tone was somehow smug, and Teagan couldn't help wondering why. But, then it came out, "I told you, Tey, you're a good actress. You're suited perfectly for the stage."

If only he had a physical body. She would have smacked him.