“Good morning.”

Hanna Skye stepped off the creaky wooden steps and into the kitchen of the historic home she and her sister shared, then stretched and gave a loud yawn. She’d pulled her long, purple-streaked blond hair into a ponytail and donned her old athletic wear—clothes she’d used for cheer practice just last year.

“Morning,” Becca, her older sister and legal guardian, grunted in reply. She nursed a cup of coffee at the kitchen table, her raven hair in a messy bun and her five-year-old scrubs wrinkled and faded. She raised a dark eyebrow at Hanna. “What are you doing with those workout clothes? Thought you were done with cheer.”

Hanna sighed. “You mean you haven’t seen me practicing with YouTube all summer? I’m auditioning for guard, Becks. They’re holding practice sessions this week in the gym at school.”

Becca shook her head. “I’m telling you, Han. You’re making a mistake. Cheer was gonna take you places, but now you’re lumping yourself in with some of the weirdest kids on the planet. You even look like them now.” She gestured with her whole hand at Hanna. “Purple hair, earrings out the wazoo, black athletic wear…geez. What happened to your pretty pink workout clothes?”

Hanna rolled her eyes. “You know I’ve always hated pink.” She came to the peeling kitchen table and picked at the instant oatmeal Becca had prepared for her. “I know you liked me being in cheer, but I like me being in band. If I get in, of course.”

“And if you get in?” Becca studied her with concern. “You’ll have to make all new friends. That’s not gonna come easy.”

Hanna sighed. “It’ll be fine. I know it’ll take time, but being somewhere new will help me feel new, too.” She rested her cheek in her hand and thought back to the day she’d watched the guard girls practicing after school. They’d seemed so comfortable with each other, always laughing and joking between sets, helping each other with their technique, and walking off the field with their arms thrown around each other’s shoulders.

Hanna craved that kind of friendship more than she could express. With the cheer squad, it had been constant drama and stress. Who was dating whom? Did so and so steal someone’s boyfriend? Was Hanna popular or only semi-popular? Was she pretty enough to be in the top five? Who did the basketball and football players wink at the most? Who called the shots? Who was the undeniable queen?

Hanna frowned at her oatmeal. Obviously, it was Liz, with her quick wit, supermodel body and gorgeous auburn waves, and Isabela was the princess, the sweet, soft-spoken, raven-haired beauty with a heart of ice.

Hanna, with her unfeminine, gangly height and flat, athletic dancer build, had been second rate on the best of days and trampled underfoot on the worst. Not that she really cared about being the best, but among the cheer girls, you were either the best or you were nothing.

And Hanna was tired of being nothing.

Now that she was embarking on a new endeavor, though, there didn’t have to be any more competition. She’d be true to herself. She’d do the things she wanted, wear what she wanted, and create her own style.

She’d finally belong to herself, and that was something.

Hanna still wanted to contribute her talents and enthusiasm to a group that would appreciate her and incorporate her as one of their own. She hoped with all her strength that color guard would be the place she’d find that missing piece.

Becca finished her coffee and headed out for her long shift at the hospital, and Hanna followed suit. She finished her oatmeal before grabbing her color guard flag and rifle from the foyer and stepping out into the summer humidity.

Schrödinger High was just a brief walk from hers and Becca’s inherited home in downtown Shady View, a tiny town in central Kentucky. Still, with the late June heat soaking through the moist air, Hanna was sweating by the time she stepped inside the school’s gleaming blue-and black lobby. Cool air soothed her skin as the receptionist signed her in and gave her a badge.

Hanna headed down the long corridor towards the gym, her footsteps echoing against the polished tile. The noise was loud against the relative silence of the building, but soon she began to hear voices and laughter from the gym up ahead.

She took in and released a deep breath. She’d gotten in the soothing habit long before her high school days, when she’d been surrounded with people and noise at the three foster homes she and Becca had stayed at after her parents’ disappearance. The breaths steadied her racing heart as she massaged her chilly hands.

“Now’s not the time to freeze up on me,” she whispered as she tucked her equipment into the crook of her arm and flexed her fingers.

Her hands had a bad habit of going numb and turning blue any time her emotions were crazy. Her doctor had told her it was likely a form of Raynaud’s Syndrome and shouldn’t affect her daily life, but she still found it embarrassing and inconvenient to have her fingers lock up anytime her emotions got a little out of hand. Yet another reason she’d decided to leave cheer for something more low key.

She stepped into the gym, her eyes wide to take in everything. She’d come here plenty of times for cheer practice, but she’d never seen it prepared for color guard. A long tarp had been laid across the delicate wood, presumably to protect it from dropped equipment. A couple dozen girls stood chatting, spinning their flags aimlessly, or tossing rifles and sabres in the air. Hanna marveled at the skill of the older girls, watching them perform graceful dance moves with their flags or spinning under a tossed rifle, then catching it just in time with a loud slap that echoed throughout the gym.

Then she noticed the differences and the imperfections of each girl. A bigger built girl, looking shyly down at a video as she tried to get the hang of a new skill. A much shorter girl with fishnet gloves and pierced eyebrows, eyeing a rifle with interest. A mousy-haired girl with glasses and freckles, chatting animatedly with a girl who wore neon eyeshadow and a lip piercing, both holding flags.

Hanna caught herself frowning and quickly corrected her facial features. This was a new place, open to everyone. Even them and even her. She had no right to judge them just because they didn’t all look like Barbies.

In fact…she let her gaze sweep the room again. It was kind of nice to have so many different kinds of girls all together in one place. She was one among many with her own style and talents to bring.

It would be amazing.

“Well, hello!” A curvy woman with curly brown hair hurried to greet Hanna. She wore a baby blue shirt with the words “Guardie for Life” emblazoned on the front in glittering letters. “I’m Veronica, the guard mom. Also known as Guard Instructor, but that sounds so boring. Everyone calls me Mama Ronnie.”

Hanna chuckled. “I like Mama Ronnie.”

Veronica grinned. “I’m glad. We’re so excited you’re here. Are you registered yet?”

“No, ma’am.” Hanna smiled politely and let the woman lead her to the sign-in table. As she signed her name on the list of potential auditioners, her hand shook a bit. She was committing to this. She was all in. She’d learn the audition routine, and she’d try out, and then she’d succeed or fail. There was no place to go but forward.

“Hanna Skye,” mused Veronica. “11th grader. I feel like I know you from somewhere.” She studied Hanna.

“I used to cheer,” Hanna offered reluctantly.

“That’s it!” Veronica clapped her shoulder. “You were the tall one in the back at all the games last year.”

Hanna gave half a smile. “Ha. Yeah.” She rubbed her arm self-consciously. She’d always been relegated to the back.

“Well, what brings you to guard?” Veronica led her to the tarp, where the other girls were practicing. “Not that I’m complaining. I’m just always curious what draws people in.”

“I just thought it looked really neat,” Hanna replied. She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell Veronica the real reason she’d left cheer behind. “I wanted to try something different.”

“I think you’ll find there are a lot of similarities between cheer and guard. Coming from that background, you should pick up on everything fast.”

Hanna winced as the girls they were walking past began to stare, and she wished Veronica wouldn’t talk so loud.

Veronica settled her in a spot with plenty of clearance between her and the next girl. “Go ahead and get comfortable with your equipment or go socialize and get to know your fellow potential guardies!” Veronica patted her shoulder, then bustled off to greet the next girl.

Hanna took a deep breath, then set her flag and rifle down on the floor and launched into a familiar stretch routine she used to do for cheer. It would help her regain her breath and find an anchor.

“I like your stretches,” remarked the girl she’d been placed beside.

Hanna glanced up to see a short, freckled girl with stunning red curls and blue eyes a few feet away, leaning on her flag as she watched Hanna.

“Oh. Thanks.” Hanna smiled at her, hoping she looked friendly.

“Where’d you learn them?”

“Um. I used to cheer,” Hanna admitted sheepishly.

“Oh, really?” The red-head arched her eyebrows, then smiled. “That’s neat. Would have never thought I’d meet a former cheerleader here. You don’t look like one, either. I mean, you’re real pretty, don’t get me wrong, but you look much different than I’d expect.”

Hanna chuckled nervously, unsure how to respond. Then she glanced up as the other girls nearby paused and watched her. Some of them whispered to each other. The girl with fishnet gloves stifled a laugh as someone muttered in her ear, then saw Hanna watching and turned away to fiddle with her flag.

Hanna’s stomach tightened and her hands tingled. She got up and grabbed her flag. “Um. Thanks. I’m just gonna practice a bit now.”

“Sure thing.” The red-head backed up, sheepish, then paused before she turned away. “My name is Sheena, by the way. I’m a junior. I did guard the last two years.”

“I’m Hanna,” Hanna responded. “I’m a junior, too. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Hanna.” Sheena gave her a genuine, apologetic smile. “If you ever need anything, just let me know.” Then she stepped back to her spot and began to spin.

Hanna gazed after Sheena for just a moment, then picked up her own flag and launched into her practiced spins to ignore the stares of the girls around her.

A moment later, Veronica bustled to the front and cupped her hands over her mouth. “Alright, ladies! Are you ready to learn?”

Scattered whoops and cheers went up. Sheena lifted her flag in the air with a jubilant cry.

Hanna gave a half-hearted holler with the other girls.

“Wow, that was pretty enthusiastic!” Veronica noted. “I like it. You girls are pumped today.”

As the morning wore on, Hanna improved on the basics she’d taught herself the week prior and learned a few more fundamental moves, including figure-eights, rowboats, and a variation on the basic spin called double-time. Every once in a while, Sheena or Veronica would correct her grip or adjust her technique.

Then came the routine, a mash-up of everything they’d learned so far that morning. Hanna caught on quickly, just like Veronica had said. It turned out there were some similarities between guard and cheer after all, the main one being the fact that she had to be in synchrony with the other girls and with Veronica’s counting and claps.

“Good, Shelby!” Veronica called as they performed the final time that morning for their official audition.

Hanna wholeheartedly approved the song Veronica had chosen for their routine—“Unstoppable” by Sia—and found herself locking into the routine readily and smoothly. Her confidence soared.

“Great catch on that mistake, Amy,” Veronica noted. “Hanna, you’re rocking it!” She flashed Hanna a thumbs-up.

Hanna nearly forgot the next step in her surprise, and Veronica chuckled.

At the end of the morning, Hanna felt much more hopeful about her place, though her stomach was in a jumble as the girls piled into the lobby next to the gym and proceeded to munch on pizza and wait for their audition results to come out. To her pleasant surprise, no one else seemed as tense as she was. Excited giggles and squeals went up from the girls who’d made friends that morning, and everyone watched a professional marching band performance on a TV rolled in from the AV room.

Hanna took a deep breath as she bit into her pizza and tried to relax. She’d been right about one thing, at least. Color guard was a whole lot less pressure so far than cheer had been, even though she didn’t technically have any friends to speak of yet.

“Hey.” Hanna glanced up as Sheena headed over with a plate full of pizza. “Mind if I sit here?” She nodded at the spot next to Hanna.

“No, go ahead,” Hanna obliged. She gave Sheena half a smile. “Thanks for helping me this morning.”

“No problem, girl.” Sheena beamed at her, then fixed her eyes on the TV. “Oh, the Cavvies. Gosh, I love them.”

Hanna turned to look as the camera zoomed in on the marchers. All of them were young men, all looking dashing in their feathered hats. Hanna stared against her own better judgement.

“Eh?” Sheena elbowed her with a sly grin.

Hanna shook her head and tore her eyes away. “They’re just good at marching. That’s all.”

“Ooh, girl, don’t even tell me they ain’t cute,” Sheena gushed.

Hanna bit into her pizza and rolled her eyes.

“I know they ain’t basketball or football players, but you’re a guard girl now,” Sheena went on. “You’ll eventually find the band uniform attractive.”

Hanna’s smile faded a bit. “Yeah.” Another stark reminder that she didn’t quite belong yet.

“Hey.” Sheena touched her arm. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you earlier. I think everyone was just so surprised to see, you know.” She leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper. “A cheerleader here. It’s like seeing a celebrity at a tractor pull.”

Hanna snorted, then burst into laughter. “That’s the weirdest metaphor I’ve ever heard.”

Sheena laughed with her. “I mean, if the shoe fits!”

Hanna studied Sheena, and Sheena looked back at her with a friendly gleam in her eye.

“It’s okay, Sheena. I was embarrassed before, but honestly, I’m glad I met you today,” Hanna admitted.

Sheena curled her lip into a pout. “Aw, girl. Did we just become friends?”

Hanna laughed. “I hope so.”

“Ladies!” Mama Ronnie stepped into the lobby and clapped to get their attention. “Quick announcement here, won’t take too much of your time.” She winked. “Ready to here placements?”

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A chorus of affirmative shouts rose from the girls gathered in the lobby. Hanna exchanged an excited glance with Sheena, who patted her back.

“You sure?” Mama Ronnie teased. An amused twinkle lit up her eyes.

Again, the girls shouted and whistled.

“Alright.” She swept her gaze over the room, glanced at her clipboard, then let it drop to the floor. “You’re all in.”

Hanna’s mouth dropped open in pleasant surprise as Sheena and the others cheered. All sixteen of the new auditioners had made it?

Sheena noted her shock. “A lot of people come and go throughout the season, so we try to start as full as possible,” she explained. “Plus, all y’all seriously killed it this morning! Talk about learning quick!”

“I see,” Hanna replied. She smiled. Her heart buoyed with hope and gratitude. She’d made it. She was officially a guard girl, and she’d already made her first friend. Things were already going much better than she’d dreamed.

“Oh, will you walk with to the band room?” Sheena pulled her up. “I brought something we can share to celebrate. It might involve chocolate.” She winked.

“Chocolate sounds nice,” Hanna laughed. She walked with Sheena down the hall to the band room and stepped inside. Blue walls bordered in white stretched in a hexagon around the huge room, and music stands and chairs were stacked in neat piles and arranged in lines on special carts near the edge walls.

A small office to the side of the band room doors was standing open, and as she followed Sheena to the back wall which was lined with lockers, she noticed a lanky, salt-and-pepper haired man examining a tall guy in a marching uniform. She assumed Mr. J, the band director, was the older man from the plaque above the office door proclaiming his name.

“Give it a turn, Klaus,” Mr. J instructed the young man.

Klaus turned in a circle, and Hanna noted his square-framed glasses under the visor of the hat he was wearing. The all-black uniform made his shoulders broad and his silhouette sharp.

“Give a salute.”

Klaus launched into a salute reminiscent of the one she’d seen the Cavaliers’ field commander give on the TV. With the firm set of his jaw and his confident posture, he looked strong and dashing.

Hanna wrinkled her chin in appreciation. Maybe Sheena was right. Maybe the uniform would grow on her.

“I like it. I think this will do nicely,” Mr. J noted with a nod.

“I think so, too.” Klaus grinned, then took the hat off.

Hanna’s eyes widened as he shook long, dark-brown waves over his shoulders. Her heart fluttered, and she bit her lip. Long hair was a thing for her, as all her punk band and Pirates of the Caribbean posters could attest. Without the visor to obscure his features, she saw stunning green eyes behind his glasses and a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, combined with a strong, square jaw.

“Write down your measurements,” Mr. J instructed, and Klaus turned away from the door to obey.

“Okay, girl, I got the chocolate,” Sheena announced.

“Uh-huh.” Hanna nodded, unable to look away from Klaus even as Sheena carted her out to the hall.

Once they were safely outside the band room, Sheena elbowed Hanna with a sly smile.

“That uniform getting to you already, huh, girl?”

“What? What are you talking about?” Hanna laughed, hoping her red cheeks didn’t give her away.

“Don’t even act like I didn’t see you staring,” Sheena teased.

Hanna rolled her eyes. “He looked good in the uniform, okay? Plus…I kind of like long hair.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Sheena chuckled. “Though he’s not really the dating type.”

“Do you know him?” Hanna asked.

“Sure do,” Sheena replied. “His name is Klaus Tempest. He’s field commander this year, but he usually plays saxophone.”

“Field commander?” Hanna tilted her head curiously.

“Yeah, you know, like the leader of the band.” Sheena explained. “The one who stands on the podium and conducts everyone.”

“Oh.” Hanna blinked, wide-eyed. “He’s kind of a big deal then, huh?”

Sheena snorted. “You could say that, but he ain’t gonna lord it over you or anything. He’s one of the most chill guys I know. Loyal to a fault. He’ll do anything for his band and his friends.”

Hanna smiled. “Well, that’s refreshing.” The last student leader she’d dealt with had done nothing but lord it over everyone on the squad.It seemed already that band was just the welcoming, accepting place she’d dreamed it would be--and she’d already found herself a friend and a possible crush, all on the same day.

She frowned, though, remembering what Sheena had said about Klaus’ love life. “You told me he doesn’t date, right?”

“Yeah.” Sheena’s eyes took on a bit of pity. “Hasn’t dated anyone the last two years. Ain’t never been the same since…well, it ain’t my place to talk about it.”

“Huh.” Hanna rubbed her arm. “That’s too bad.”

Sheena elbowed her. “Never say never, girl. Maybe you’ll change his mind.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Hanna giggled, then blushed when Sheena cackled at her expense.

“Maybe I will,” Hanna teased back.

Sheena patted her back. “That’s the spirit.”

*

Klaus Sturm sat in disguise with his arms crossed, watching his eldest brother Kristoff train with a young man named George.

“Keep your eyes on the target,” Kris directed his trainee. He stood tall and commanding, his trainer’s mask painted with gorgeous red flames.

George focused on the floating target of ice. Then his eyes flashed as he dug deep for his power of creating fire. Flames erupted in his hands, and he let out a battle cry as he sent the fire hurtling toward the target.

The ice hissed, then fizzled and broke under his attack, crashing to the concrete floor below.

“Good,” Kris encouraged. He stepped forward and clapped the young man’s shoulder. “Now bring it back in.”

George took several deep breaths. The flames in his hands slowly retreated, then vanished.

“Your control is getting much better. Good work today.”

“Thanks, FS.” FS, short for Fire Starter. Kris’ code name with all his trainees. George grinned at his trainer, then headed towards the door. He paused, noticed Klaus in the chair by the door, and arched a questioning eyebrow. “Hello. I’ve never seen you before.”

Klaus cleared his throat, remembering the smooth, controlled voice he’d practiced for his disguised persona. Then he ran his fingers back over his slicked dark hair. “Forgive the intrusion. I was asked to observe. You see, I’m going to receive my first trainee soon.”

“Ah. Joining the party, I see,” George quipped. He smiled kindly at Klaus. “I’m sure you’ll do great, bro, if you’re anything like FS.”

Klaus returned the smile, his heart warming just a bit. It never failed to make him swell with pride to be compared to Kris, the eldest of his three older brothers. “Thanks.”

George went on his way, and Kris stepped in front of Klaus, running his fingers back through his dark brown hair.

“Learn anything, birthday boy?”

Klaus laughed. He’d nearly forgotten it was his 17th birthday. Not much was different around HQ today, though his father—and now his eldest brother—had wished him a happy birthday, along with promising he’d get his first official trainee very soon. He was of age now, after all, to take on the family tradition, and he wanted to more than anything.

He stood up and scratched at his long, gelled-back hair, feeling the ponytail he’d been forced to pull it back into. “I’ve learned a thing or two. Wish I didn’t have to wear this awful disguise, though.”

“You know the rules. The trainees can’t know—"

“Who we are in real life.” Klaus sighed. “I know, Kris.”

“George is right.” Kris squeezed his shoulder. “You’ll make a great trainer.” He gave Klaus an encouraging smile, then stepped out of the room.

Klaus headed to his room, which was up a winding set of ornate mahogany stairs and down a long, dark hallway with golden doorways. Once he’d slipped inside, he pulled off his plain white mask, pulled his long, dark hair loose, then changed into jean shorts and a winter guard t-shirt. He had somewhere to be as his real self, the authentic part of himself that he enjoyed sharing with his non-magical friends—Klaus Tempest, a junior student at Schrodinger High and field commander of the school marching band.

Being here at the Sons of Thunder HQ, the secret magical watchdog organization his family owned and where his brothers trained Weather Manipulators, was all well and good, and he was excited to become their newest trainer.

But he couldn’t be known as his true self here. He always had to be in disguise if he showed his face around the trainees, and most of his family didn’t understand his deep obsession with music and band life.

They still allowed him to do it, though, and he was grateful for that, at least. He felt much more at home roaming the band room and practice fields at school than he did among his own family.

Hopefully, now that he was about to become one of them, he’d finally feel like he belonged.

He ran down the corridor towards the stairs, then slid to a stop as a door opened up ahead and someone stepped out. He didn’t stop quite fast enough and plowed into a blond figure.

“Geez, watch where you’re going!” Kurt, Klaus’ fraternal twin and pre-destined heir to the Sons of Thunder, threw him an incredulous glare.

“Sorry, bro. Happy birthday, by the way.” He offered Kurt half a smile and a hand up, but Kurt smacked his hand away and pulled himself up, glaring at Klaus with piercing green eyes, the only trait the twins seemed to share. A crackling sensation peppered the air between them as Kurt’s eyes flashed with a silvery-blue electricity.

“Calm down, Zeus,” Klaus teased. “No lightning in the house, remember? Even if you’re the chosen one, you have to follow the rules.”

Kurt scoffed. “It’s just static electricity, and if I’m sparking, it’s your fault.” He glanced at Klaus’ shirt and smirked. “In a hurry to go march with the weirdos, Four-Eyes? It’s that time of year again, isn’t it?”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha.” He moved past Kurt and continued towards the stairwell.

“Don’t forget to take your contacts out,” Kurt hollered after him.

Klaus ignored Kurt and made it to the grand foyer, then stopped to pull his contacts out and put them back in their case. They were both cosmetic and corrective, to allow him to put aside his glasses and hide the green hue of his eyes behind a blue facade. He wiped at his eyes and put his glasses back on, blinking away the irritation the contacts had left behind.

Then he stood in the center of the foyer, where gilded patterns etched in marble demarcated the Pathway, the magical means of travel between the Sons of Thunder HQ and the towns that the organization watched over.

Klaus called up his magic, feeling for the deep, warm sands of power within him. His hands began to burn, and glowing golden sand surrounded him in spirals and warmed his skin.

“Schrödinger High,” Klaus muttered.

Lightning struck from the crystal hanging high above him and scattered around Klaus and his sandy magic. He held his breath as warmth overtook him.

When he opened his eyes, he was amid a small forest just outside the perimeter of the high school. A large, lone cedar among the maples marked the only indicator that this was a stop along the Pathway. The school was a short walk from here, and the forest let out conveniently near a bus stop. He’d never have to explain to anyone where he disappeared to when he went home at night.

Not like anyone ever asked. He always stayed over at Tex’s or Colby’s house when social opportunities arose, and band kept him plenty busy otherwise. His social life was band and winter guard, come to think of it.

He didn’t mind. It was worlds better than hanging out with Kurt’s choice of friends. Kurt was the epitome of popularity as a star basketball player. With his shaggy blond hair and trademark Sturm green eyes, he could have any girl he wanted—and his favorite pastime was taking advantage of that fact.

Klaus wrinkled his nose in disgust. He’d much sooner run from a girl than make the promiscuous moves his twin seemed to relish. After all, Klaus was the weird, pure-hearted, long-haired band kid who’d dared to have a crush on Isabela, the cheer captain’s second in command, in eighth grade, and had turned down her seductive offer in favor of what his own vision of love looked like.

He’d learned very quickly what the so-called “real world” was like when she’d belittled him and butchered his hair in retaliation, like another Samson and Delilah.

“What a sweet little virgin!” Isabela’s mocking words echoed in his mind as he walked. “What century do you think we’re living in? No real man would turn me down. Only goody-two-shoes wait until marriage anymore. Don’t you know that?”

Klaus found himself glowering at the sidewalk and tried to smooth his features and clear his mind of the shameful memories. There was no use thinking of that now. He’d be late for camp registration if he didn’t hurry it along.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out as he picked up the pace.

I’m here with Tex, Colby, one of his best friends, had texted him. Where are you, birthday boy?

On my way, sorry. Had some family stuff I was doing. Klaus hit send, then grinned as the reply ellipses popped up.

You’re such a family man, Colby replied. Celebrating your birthday, huh? Can’t be too mad at that. Hope you had lots of cake.

Klaus rolled his eyes and hit the like emoji. He wished Colby was right, but the only two people in his family to ever notice him had already wished him a happy birthday—no cake included.

It was just a normal day at HQ in his family’s mind. Not even his 17th birthday could change that. After all, he wasn’t the chosen successor to the Sons of Thunder. He didn’t have the lightning powers that kept the whole organization running smoothly. His sand magic—as rare as lightning but much less powerful—simply marked him an outcast and a weirdo.

He was just the last-born Sturm kid with his band obsession and nerdy interests, and no one cared.

He hurried into the lobby a few moments later and found Tex, his best friend, waving him down. Tex’s brown waves glistened in the fluorescent lights, and his gray eyes twinkled in fond recognition.

“Hey, bud.” They fist bumped and pulled each other into a short hug. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, man. Where’s Colby?” Klaus asked.

“Talking to Sheena,” Tex replied.

“Ah.” The sweet, red-headed guard girl had been Colby’s best friend since practically birth, and she and Klaus had been in winter guard together for the past three years.

Klaus and Tex walked together towards the registration table in the gym-side lobby, where Klaus recognized many of his band mates from last year. He nodded and waved to many of them, and they waved back in fond recognition.

He sighed deeply and smiled. He was home.

He stepped up to the table once it was his turn, added his name to the sign-up list, and handed in the check his dad had written for band camp expenses.

“Registered and paid, Mr. Tempest,” announced Mr. Jackson, the band director, as he put a checkmark beside Klaus’ name. “I can always count on you. Hopefully, we won’t have any occasion this year for you to organize another protest.” He winked at Klaus with a fond smile.

“Ha. Yeah.” Klaus laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d gathered his friends at the summer budget meeting of the school’s SBDM when rumor got out that funding for band was on the chopping block. “Glad to have been of help.”

“Keep it up, son. You’re already gonna be a great field commander, but I got a feeling you’d make a superb band leadership council president. Hope you’ll run.” Mr. J winked again.

Klaus glanced down with a humble smile. “Thanks, Mr. J.” He lifted a hand in farewell, then turned and scanned the room for Colby.

A flash of familiar red hair caught his eye, and he found Sheena and Colby standing with a tall girl with long, purple-streaked blonde hair and dozens of earrings. She leaned over on a flag—a new guard girl, apparently.

Klaus blinked, taken aback by the new girl’s punky charm. She was responding to something Colby had said with a friendly smile, her pretty brown eyes twinkling with amusement. She brushed her sideswept bangs out of her eyes and laughed with Sheena as they talked. Black and white plastic bracelets dangled from her wrists, and her double-layered purple tank, black ruffled skirt and distressed leggings accentuated her graceful figure. Dainty black ballet flats added to the impression that she was some sort of fairy come to enchant him.

“Oh, dude.” Tex commented as he bumped Klaus with his elbow. “You are hardcore staring. I ain’t seen that look in a couple years.” He followed Klaus’ line of vision, then wiggled his eyebrows. “Mhm. I see. Happy birthday to you, am I right?”

Klaus snorted and shoved Tex’s arm, even as heat blossomed on his cheeks. “Hey. You know I’m not in the market.” He didn’t date, and hadn’t dated since the night Isabela had raked him across the coals.

“True, but she might change your mind,” Tex teased gently.

“Doubtful.” Klaus shook his head. She’d have to be something really special for him to let his heart out of its iron cage again, and even then, he doubted he’d ever have the courage to approach her. She was out of his league.

He was much more content to admire her from a distance and keep his heart locked safely away from the “real world.”

“Hey, Tex! Klaus!” Colby ran over to meet them, his dark hair falling over his eyes. “You finally made it, huh?” He clapped Klaus’ shoulder, then pulled an oatmeal cream pie from his backpack and handed it to Klaus. “Happy birthday, bro.”

“Thanks, dude.” Klaus laughed and unwrapped the cookie. “You always have the best snacks.”

“Well, duh,” Colby scoffed. “Was just talking to Sheen for a minute. She was saying there’s a lot of new guard people. We got a few new percussionists, too.”

“That’s cool,” Klaus replied past a mouthful of cookie. He eyed Sheena and the new girl. “Anybody interesting?” He kept his tone casual and light.

“Well, we got a really talented freshman from an out of state school for pit,” Colby remarked. He followed Klaus’ gaze and gave a sly grin. “I saw you noticing someone new. Sheena’s new guard friend, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Klaus frowned at the wistfulness in his voice and cleared his throat, ignoring Tex’s snicker. “What’s her name?”

Colby shifted uncomfortably. His voice was quiet and sheepish. “Her name’s Hanna Skye.”

“Huh.” Klaus grinned as he absentmindedly crumpled the cookie wrapper in his hands. “Hanna. I like it.”

As he spoke, Sheena caught his eye, glanced at Hanna, then nudged the tall blonde with her elbow.

Before Klaus could look away, Hanna met his gaze. Her pretty brown eyes widened a bit. Her cheeks took on a pink tint as she gingerly raised a hand to wave at him.

He grinned shyly back and lifted his hand in return.

Then Tiondra, the guard captain, rushed to Hanna’s side and pulled her into a hug, and their eye contact was broken.

Tex burst into laughter and shook Klaus’ shoulders. “Bro. You are pining.”

Klaus shook his head and shrugged Tex’s hands away. “Nah, man. I’m field commander. Gotta greet all the newbies, don’t you know.”

Colby whispered something in Tex’s ear, then exchanged a knowing glance with Tex.

Klaus glanced between the two of them. “What? Are you making fun of me? You know I’m not planning on dating or anything. I just thought she was cute.”

“Of course we’re not making fun of you.” Colby’s brow was furrowed with uncertainty. “It’s just that there’s something you should know.”

Klaus frowned. “Okay. What?”

Tex put a comforting hand on his shoulder, then lowered his voice and leaned in close to his ear. “She’s an ex-cheerleader.”

Klaus’ mouth dropped open, and the embers of attraction that had just kindled in his heart swiftly blew out. His hands began to heat, his fingertips tingling with a hot pins-and-needles sensation. He willed his sandy magic to obey him and stay hidden. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nah, man.” Colby gave him a tentative smile. “She left cheer to come join band, apparently. Sheena told me all about it. Doesn’t want anything to do with the squad anymore. Too much drama.”

Klaus crossed his arms and let his long hair form a curtain in front of one of his eyes so he could study Hanna as she moved around the room with Sheena.

Of course the one girl who’d managed to catch his eye since his trauma would come from the camp of his enemies. Why did he apparently have a taste for cold-hearted beauties?

“Welp. That just solidifies my resolution never to date again,” he growled.

“You mean you’re not gonna go talk to her after that little wave?” Tex teased gently. “Come on, bro. She’s an ex-cheerleader. Meaning, not a cheerleader anymore. She’s a guardie. She’s one of us now.”

“Absolutely not.” Klaus dug his hot fingertips into his palms. “You know how I feel about this.”

“Chill, bro.” Tex gripped his shoulder and pierced him with a knowing gray gaze. “I know, man. I know, but you don’t even know this girl.”

Klaus sighed. “Yeah, I do, Tex. You know one, you know them all.” He crossed his arms tighter and gazed sullenly at Hanna.

“She’s cool, man,” Colby protested. “Sheena likes her, and that’s enough for me.”

“Sheena likes everybody,” Klaus scoffed.

“Yeah, but does she like any jerks that you know of?” Tex pressed.

Klaus glowered. “No.”

“Klaus,” Tex scolded. “You don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to, but you can’t just go around being mad at people you don’t even know. Besides. It’s kind of a slap in the face for the cheerleaders that one of them left for us. That says a lot.”

“I don’t trust it. I don’t trust her,” Klaus growled. “Cheerleaders are pretty little snakes.” As he spoke, he watched Hanna cross the lobby, laughing alongside Sheena. A flashback of half a dozen girls, pointing and laughing as he pleaded for Isabela’s clippers to stop, made him shiver with loathing. “They’re all the same.”

“I’m with you, man. What they did to you was…” Tex gave a low whistle. “We won’t go there.”

Klaus gave a firm nod, clenching his fists to keep his power under control.

“I just think you’re setting yourself up for a bad season and a lot of unnecessary disappointment with that attitude,” Tex continued. “Give it time. You don’t know her.” Tex patted his back, and he and Colby drifted off to mingle with their section mates.

Klaus huffed an angry sigh. So much for the perfect girl. He scowled at Hanna, then shuffled away.

There was no such thing as the perfect girl, and if he hadn’t learned that by now, he never would.