School is Mama’s way of punishing us for sneaking out. I don’t think she blames us for what the djinn did, but she isn’t happy about it.

My brain is mush after being up all night and my nerves are shot. I jump at every loud or sudden noise, thinking it’s the djinn coming to kill me. I know that Maddox and Mr. Monroe said they’d take care of it but what if they don’t get to it before it gets to me? Panic pulses in my veins at the thought and force myself to inhale through my nose and out through my mouth. My desk neighbors all look at me in annoyance. My chemistry teacher rambles on about carbon, oblivious to my fear. I try to ignore it and focus on the lecture, but I’m having some trouble.

It doesn’t help that there’s a moth fluttering around the teacher’s head. It’s incessant but he doesn’t seem to notice. Aren’t moths supposed to be nocturnal anyway? What is this little thing doing awake?

As I watch, trying desperately to focus on why carbon is important to the food chain, another moth joins the first and the two of them loop and flit around Mr. Peach’s head like they’re rehearsing for Cirque Du Soleil. He continues on, heedless. It’s like he’s immune to annoyances.

When a third joins the fray I start to wonder if perhaps there’s a moth factory that just opened its doors or something. Mr. Peach closes his book and I expect him to bat them away or at least blow at them, but he just sets the book on the desk and clasps his hands in front of him.

“And there you have it. I’d like you to design a lab … “ he goes on, but I don’t hear him.

More moths have joined the dance, there are almost a dozen now, and counting. Where are they even coming from? No one else is reacting.

It finally hits me that this must be a vision, and I feel stupid for not realizing it sooner. My heart pounds as I raise my hand and ask to be excused to the restroom. Mr. Peach says yes and I take my bag with me when I go.

Like the rest of Crescent Creek, our school is old. The girls bathroom is large and echoey, with giant frosted glass windows and a wide sill for girls to set their backpacks on while they occupy the stalls. This is where I sit now, pressing my back against the cool stone wall and my shoulder against the sun-warmed glass. I pull my knees up tightly and try to calm myself.

I get about three deep breaths in before the heavy wooden door bursts open hard enough to crack against the wall. In stride my guardians, all three of them with different expressions. Jules looks concerned, Dev looks cautious and Brody looks pissed off.

They relax a little when they see that I am unharmed. Jules hops up onto the window sill and sits beside me, his back against the glass.

“What gives, Em?” he asks. “Your heart’s racing like a clydesdale.”

He’s so nonchalant about knowing my heart rate without even touching me that I have the urge to smack him.

“I’m just having a rough day. Sorry to bother you guys.” I wish I could hide. Just sink into the wall. I feel so exposed, so open and naked.

“So no djinn appearances?” Dev asks, his grey-green eyes searching my face.

I shake my head. “I … had a vision, that’s all. I’m not even sure what it means. I’ll have to ask Mama when I get home.”

“A vision? You get visions?” Brody pushes off from the wall and comes to stand beside Dev.

I nod glumly. “They’re never straightforward though. I saw snakes leading up to Grandmother’s death and now I’m seeing moths.”

“What the hell do moths mean?” Brody asks with a sneer, like he’s trying to sound uninterested. I can tell he is though.

“I told you, I don’t know. Probably not death again,” I say. “Unless fate is playing some sick cosmic joke on me where every single vision I get foretells someone’s death.”

“Doesn’t seem likely,” Dev says, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“If you’re okay, we should get back to class,” Jules says, bumping his knee against mine. “Bell’s about to ring.”

“You go,” I murmur. “I’ve already got my stuff. I’ll just see you later.”

Brody pivots and strolls out. After another suspicious look at my face, Dev follows. Jules jumps down from the sill and pats my knee before exiting also.

I stay there through lunch, trying to tamp down all of the emotions swirling through me; mine and the guys’. It’s difficult to discern my own mental state from theirs but eventually I can get it. Each of the guys’ feelings are tinged with a different flavor. Not literally a taste, more like an essence. A signature. Something to let me know the emotion came from them. Once I figure that out, it’s easier to block them out. Which feels intrinsically wrong but also necessary for my sanity, at least today, when everything is so crazy. I can still sense their locations though, even while I can block out their emotions.

I spend the rest of the day trying to ignore the ache of having the boys so far away from me, even though they’re all still in the school. I don’t check their emotions. It seems that to figure out what I’m feeling today I need to avoid them. So I do that, going to Mama’s bookstore after school for a while instead of walking home with Jules. Even when I get home I focus anxiously on my homework instead of checking in with them, magically or otherwise. I’m a wreck and can’t focus for anything, but I exercise self control to an extreme degree.

My tactic works until bedtime.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I can feel them all next door, and it’s almost still too far away for comfort. Or maybe that’s the djinn’s distance, throwing everything off kilter. I can even tell that Jules is in his room and Dev and Brody are in the basement.

I’m anxious as I climb into bed. I feel stretched thin, pulled in too many directions.

Mama is out tonight, hunting the djinn with Maddox and Mr. Monroe. I stare at the ceiling and try and focus on my breathing, but it does nothing to slow my speeding heart.

A text lights up the screen of my phone and I smile at Jules’ name.

Can I come over? It reads.

I type out a reply and stand to unlock my french doors. Jules is there a few moments later, wearing a tee and athletic shorts. His curls are in disarray. He offers me a rueful smile.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says.

I almost tell him that I couldn’t either but, of course, he already knows that. Instead, I take his hand let out a relieved puff of air when my anxiety dials down a notch. Touching seems to do the trick.

Jules looks a little more calm as well. He tugs me toward my bed.

We curl up together easily, muscle memory from childhood sleepovers. Now, we stare up at the ceiling together.

“Is this our new normal?” he asks, idly stroking my hair.

“No. It will be less … anxiety filled once the djinn is dead. At least I hope so. I’m sorry I feel so --”

He cuts me off. “Don’t apologize for your feelings, Em. Let’s set that precedent right now. Never worry about how you feel.”

“But it affects you all now. It’s not just me I have to worry about.”

“Stop. That’s an endless loop. Feeling bad for feeling bad, et cetera. Just feel what you feel.”

I sigh, already starting to feel the fingers of sleep grasp at me. I focus for a moment on the bodies next door. Both are feeling exhausted. Brody feels confused and a little angry. He always seems a little angry though. Dev is apprehensive and a little restless. And they both feel muted somehow. Hazy.

“Are they high?” I blurt to Jules.

“Who?” he murmurs.

“Brody and your brother.”

He snorts. “Of course they are. What do you think they do in that basement?” He turns his face to me. “What does that feel like on the connection?”

“Blurry.”

He looks amused. “Interesting.”

“Isn’t all of this kind of freaking you out?” I ask him. “You seem so chill about it.”

He pauses thoughtfully for a while before answering. “I already knew you were the real deal, a witch, and to be honest, if I’d known being an Emmy guardian was a job option, I probably would have signed up anyway.”

“You can’t mean that. It’s for life! I’m still reeling that the practice exists at all in this day and age. We’re so young Jules. This isn’t fair to you at all.”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about me, Em. I’m fine.”

“Jules --”

“This happened to both of us, Emmy. To all of us. It’s not like we’re your servants. You’re stuck with us too.”

I hadn’t really thought of it like that. I’d been more worried about how this binding would affect their lives than how it would mine. In truth I never gave much thought to my future because it had all seemed fairly predetermined. Finish my witchy training, graduate high school, go to community college and work at the bookstore. Someday become a single mother and move back into Moonhollow, like all the women in my family.

Of course, I’d always been in love with Devereaux, and in some of my more detailed fantasies he was the father of my child. But we didn’t end up together. Adelfi women never seem to have husbands. Now I know why, I guess. They get guardians instead.

Jules snores softly, alerting me to his slumber and I snuggle closer, taking immense comfort in the contact.

Somehow I manage to push all stressful thoughts from my mind and drift off too.

Mama clears her throat loudly, startling Jules and I awake.

“Breakfast is ready,” she announces. “And we should really get you on a birth control spell. And get your boys tested.”

“Mama!” I gasp, horrified.

“What? I know you’re still a virgin, baby girl, but they aren’t. Not even you, Julius LaTour. Don’t give me those innocent eyes. I can sense these things. It’s part of my power.”

I glance sideways at Jules who is blinking blearily up at her. At least she doesn’t seem mad that he’s in my room. She turns on her heel and disappears into the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

I groan and cover my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Jules shrugs and pushes himself up with a yawn. “I wonder how effective a birth control spell is compared to like, the pill.”

“Jules!” My cheeks are red.

“I’m just curious! Calm down, Emmy.” He stands and I feel the loss of his touch like a punch to the stomach. My breath leaves me in a whoosh.

I feel empty. Like a vacuum with nothing to suck.

“Whoa.” Jules turns around to face me, frowning. His curls are crazy from sleep. “That’s … that’s like a wound that just .. just aches. Do you feel it too?”

I nod, swallowing. “They said it’ll get easier. It has to.”

“I can’t imagine what the guys are feeling right now, not having touched you all night like I did.”

“Maybe I’m like a drug. Like, the more you use the more you want kind of thing.”

“Maybe.” He looks unsure.

I certainly hope so, because it can’t be like this all the time. It just can’t.

I let him use the bathroom first and then slip in for a shower. I finish and dress quickly in jeans, a tank and a purple lace cardigan. I’m still toweling my hair when I come to a stop at the kitchen entrance, shocked at what I see.

The room is filled to the brim with guys. Maddox and Mr. Monroe sit at our small kitchen table while Mama passes out plates of eggs and bacon to Dev and Brody, who lean against the wall. Jules sits on the counter, legs swinging and his plate already half empty.

Dev and Brody look up in unison and I can feel relief emanating from them, as if just seeing me makes them feel better.

Brody looks away quickly but Dev keeps his eyes on me, drinking me in. Mama shares a knowing look with her guardians when Dev fails to notice that she’s trying to hand him a fork.

“Devereaux,” she eventually says softly.

He jumps and blinks at her before taking the fork and muttering an apology.

“Good morning, baby girl. I’ll make you a plate.” Mama moves back to the cupboard.

“How - How was the hunting? I didn’t hear you come in.” I note the tired bags under Mama’s eyes.

“Fruitless,” says Maddox curtly. “But don’t worry. We’ll find him.”