Chasing Starlight- Cassandra's Story Read online

  Chasing Starlight

  Cassandra’s Story

  The Daughters of Night Chronicles

  By

  Jennifer Siddoway and Matilda Reyes

  No Place Like Home

  Chapter One

  I winced from the summer heat while carrying another box of supplies to my car. My hair was pulled into a messy bun and a blonde tendril fell around my face as I stepped into the parking lot. The sun beat against my back and sweat dripped from my forehead, making the whole experience terribly uncomfortable. My arms were sore from going back and forth on so many trips but, thankfully, this was the last box. When I made it to the back of my car, I realized the door had fallen shut and let out an exasperated groan.

  Damn.

  Opening the door with my arms full of crafting supplies presented an unexpected problem. My eyebrows knit together as I struggled to unlatch the handle, reaching from beneath the load I carried to graze the car door lightly with my finger. The tips of my fingers found the latch eventually, and the door swung open, revealing the rest of my loaded classroom supplies. After exhaling in relief, I noticed that most of the space was already taken up. It would be tight either way, but the box in my arms was larger than I remembered and didn’t look like it would fit.

  Crap, how am I going to make this work?

  I set the box on the trunk and leaned in to rearrange things, hoping it would create the space I needed. The process reminded me of playing Tetris or assembling a complex puzzle you didn’t have all the pieces to. With a stroke of creativity, I tried another tactic, but it proved even less helpful than before.

  I felt my anxiety rise and I exhaled in frustration before trying yet again. And again. Nothing seemed to work. Sweat seeped through my shirt and I checked the time on my phone.

  Double crap! I’m running late. Okay, Cass. You can do this.

  My heart pounded harder while my anxiety built, and I knew I would only spiral if I could not calm down. Angry tears pricked at the corners of my eyes while I reached into my purse and pulled out my sleek, rose-colored iPhone. I was angry at myself for being late, I was angry that I couldn’t figure out how to pack my car and make this work, but most of all I was angry that my mental illness affected me this way. Normal people would have handled the situation better. They could have figured it out themselves—but that’s what Generalized Anxiety Disorder does to you, it makes simple things feel much, MUCH bigger than they are.

  I found my sister’s contact information in my list of recent calls and hit send to see if she could talk me off the ledge.

  It rang twice before she answered, and I glanced around the parking lot nervously with the phone pressed against my ear.

  “Hey, Cass. What’s going on?” Halle’s voice greeted me on the other line.

  My emotions boiled over at the sound of her voice and I felt a sob break free. “H-hey.”

  “You…don’t sound good,” she responded cautiously. “I can feel it through the phone. You’re stressing out hard, what happened?”

  Her soothing presence sent a wave of comfort over me, and I immediately relaxed. Halle was so much more than just my twin; she and I had a special connection, one that not many people understood. We were bonded with blood and magic, because of our fae ancestry—she could sense my emotions no matter how far apart we were.

  Knowing that she could feel my panic and it wouldn’t do me any good to lie, I braced my hand against the roof of the open door and said, “You’re going to laugh at me.”

  “No, I’m not, and if you don’t talk soon, you’ll give us both a headache. Now speak.”

  Huffing in exasperation and embarrassment, I told her, “It’s the first day back for teachers, I’m supposed to set up my classroom. I have all these boxes, and I’m ready to go, but they won’t all fit in my car. I spent the last twenty minutes trying to figure this out, but now I’m going to be late, and that’s not exactly how I wanted to introduce myself to my new co-workers.”

  There was a pause before Halle responded. “Wow, so that escalated quickly, huh?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Okay, well take a deep breath and step away from your car; we’re going to figure this out together. I’m glad you called me.”

  I nodded against the phone and breathed heavily through my nose, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. “Okay.”

  “Good, now break it down for me. What exactly are we dealing with? Can the box be broken down into smaller pieces, and tucked around everything else?”

  Halle’s calm and logical approach almost made me laugh because it was so obvious once she said it. I hadn’t been thinking clearly in my heightened emotional state, and her suggestion made perfect sense. “Yeah, that will work.”

  I took the crayon boxes and other supplies from the box on my trunk and slipped them into the containers sitting along the backseat. It took less than thirty seconds to resolve, but I needed my sister’s objective reasoning to help me through it. Once the box was completely empty, its content securely spread across the floorboards and other boxes, I shut the door victoriously, telling her, “Okay, it’s done. Thank you, Halle.”

  She scoffed playfully and said, “Psh, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay on the phone with you until you get there.”

  I smiled at her mothering tone while walking to the driver’s seat and letting myself inside. Once I started the car and pulled onto the main road, Halle asked, “Have you been taking your medication?”

  “Yeah, but it still happens every now and then,” I responded.

  “I know, Hon. We don’t always have control over when these things happen.”

  Pursing my lips while I turned onto another street, I thought about the years of therapy she and I have been through. My anxiety, while it might be more outwardly visible, was no different than my sister’s personality quirks—she had her own cross to bear.

  Palm trees lined the streets of the adorable neighborhood surrounding the school and provided extra shade for the campus when I pulled into the parking lot. The school was a charming blue and gray building that had a sign out front reading, Canopy Oaks Elementary. I’d driven by it a dozen times after being hired, and now the first day was finally here.

  “Halle, I need to go. I’m pulling into the faculty parking lot,” I told her casually. “Thanks for helping me.”

  “No problem! Have fun getting to know the school and give me a call later this evening,” she responded.

  I grinned at the tone in her voice, knowing she’d call me first whether I wanted her to or not. The rose-colored iPhone was pressed against my ear as I put the car in park and turned the key in the ignition.

  “Sure, I’ll let you know how it goes when I get back home.”

  “Okay. Love you, Cass.”

  “I love you, too, Halle. Thanks again.”

  My palms began to sweat as I reached over and grabbed my purse–the first sign things were about to go badly for me—so I worked through a quick meditation. I was still coming down from the anxiety attack and I couldn’t start the first day at my new school with it rearing its ugly head. After a few minutes, my hands stopped shaking and the vise around my chest loosened. I sighed with relief, squared my shoulders, and focused on the mission at hand—surviving the first day.

  The air was thick with heat from the summer sun as I steeled myself and walked across the parking lot toward the set of double doors into the front office. An electric buzz of anticipation flowed through me as I came to a set of clean glass doors and grabbed the handle. Immediately to the left was another set of double doors marked Main Office, so I squared my shoulders with resolve and took anot
her brave step into the building. A tall, slender woman was sitting behind a desk and looked up at my arrival, saying, “Good morning, Ms. Williams. How nice to see you!”

  I gave her a pensive smile, hoping it wasn’t the panicked grimace that I felt. “Hi, Megan. Have they assigned me to a classroom yet? The email said they were moving things around this year.”

  The words sounded like a question when they left my mouth—I still couldn’t believe it.

  “Oh, yes! I should have called you earlier. Come on, I’ll take you there.”

  Megan stood from behind the desk and walked to the entrance down the hallway. She was shorter than she seemed behind the desk and had wavy brown hair that fell just below her shoulders. I took an immediate liking to her after our initial interview, and I knew she and I would be good friends.

  “We’re so excited to have you here,” Megan gushed. “Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you settle in. I know the other teachers are very excited to meet you, too.”

  I smiled at her kind offer and glanced around the office curiously. “Thank you very much. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She gestured down the hallway with a wave of her hand, and I cast one last glance toward the door before following her into the campus. Megan led me down the hall then paused at a pair of wooden doors that opened to the outside. She propped it open with her hand and let me inside to reveal a vast open floor plan with four adjoining classrooms.

  “Here we are!” she announced excitedly. “The layout is designed to keep all rooms of the same grade level connected, so the teachers can interact with each other and combine for communal lessons. The media center and cafeteria are just across the hall.”

  I smiled appreciatively and nodded while glancing over the space in wonder. She hummed with approval and shut the door behind us before walking to one of the two classrooms. Over her shoulder, I peered at a tall, mousy-haired woman wearing a pair of paint-splotched overalls.

  “Oh, what perfect timing! Ms. Williams, this is Alice Haywick, she’ll be in the room right across from yours.”

  “Oh, how lovely. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Haywick,” I offered sheepishly while taking her outstretched hand.

  The woman smiled warmly. “You can call me Alice. Welcome to Canopy Oaks.”

  Megan grinned, seeming delighted that we appeared compatible. “Well, I’m sure you will get along fine. Ms. Williams, I’ll leave you here with Alice to finish getting settled. Don’t forget, we have a faculty meeting tomorrow morning at ten.”

  I nodded in confirmation and said, “Yes. Thank you.”

  As she left through the door to the third-grade classrooms, I released a tired sigh. Alice glanced at me from her doorway and smiled as I entered the communal area. Slowly, I made my way over to the classroom Megan designated as mine and looked around. There was a pristine wooden desk with a dry erase board mounted on the wall behind it, four rows of child sized desks, and a compact sitting area with shelves full of books. The opposite wall featured a large window that overlooked the colorful playground.

  After living in Arizona for several years, it felt weird to be home and working as a professional.

  “What do you think?” Alice asked hopefully.

  “It’s fantastic,” I admitted, feeling a little overwhelmed.

  Alice walked into my classroom and patted my arm. “This is your first year, right? Don’t worry, we’re a family here and we take care of each other.”

  “I appreciate that. Thank you. I’m going to head outside and bring in some of my things.”

  She took a step toward me and asked, “Do you need any help?”

  “Nah, I’ll be okay. Thanks, though.”

  Alice nodded and went back to her classroom while I headed out the set of double doors. It took me six trips to haul the boxes inside and stack them in the corner of my classroom. By the end of my run, I was completely exhausted and decided to sit in one of the chairs.

  My desk was littered with pictures of my family, especially Halle. Since she moved to Boston for grad school, it felt like part of me was missing. Growing up, we were inseparable, but life was different now. Part of me was happy with this new direction, but missing Halle was like missing a limb; it made me indescribably sad.

  I forced the thoughts from my brain as I finished putting my books on the shelves and lined the announcement board in colorful paper. The welcome sign was just as bright and enthusiastic as I hoped the rest of the room was. When I thought about meeting my students next week, my stomach did a somersault. Meeting new people always made me nervous, and it sometimes triggered my anxiety—it was something I’d dealt with my entire life.

  Social situations and I did not mix well, but I was working on it. Twenty-five third graders shouldn’t be that hard.

  At the end of the day, I looked over what I’d accomplished and smiled. The classroom looked exactly the way I wanted it to. Alice and I finished around the same time, so we walked together to the parking lot. The August sun was sweltering in the California heat and I couldn’t wait to get home to my delightfully air-conditioned apartment. We said our goodbyes and I climbed into the cab of my silver Prius. I plugged my phone into the USB drive and backed out of the parking space.

  The streets of my short commute around Balboa Park were lined with palm trees and neatly manicured. It was peaceful, and I appreciated the time to decompress. I arrived in a record fifteen minutes, parked in the small lot, and made my way inside. My friend, Samantha, had an extra room in her apartment and was kind enough to let me live with her while I settled back in town. The apartment wasn’t impressive, but the neighborhood was safe, and the rent was something I could afford. I hadn’t finished unloading all my boxes after moving in but, despite that, our space was fairly clean. Both of us took out our stress by cleaning, which was one of the many reasons we got along so well.

  I walked past the boxes into my room, let out a tired sigh, kicked off my shoes, then collapsed on my bed. While I stared up at the ceiling, I exhaled through my nose and thought about all the things that would be different now that I was teaching. I still didn’t really identify as an adult, so it was weird to think of myself as a teacher. Still, this is what I’d been working toward for as long as I could remember. I’d always wanted to be a teacher, and I loved children. It was like a dream come true.

  Once I caught my second wind, I changed into a pair of light sweatpants and a camisole, with a loose cardigan that scooped down to expose my shoulder. Pieces of my wavy blonde hair were escaping from its bun, so I let it down and pulled it into a low ponytail that fell to the side of my neck.

  Just as I was getting comfortable, there was a buzz from an incoming Skype call on my open laptop across the room. I rolled over to see who it was, pulled the computer to me, and set it on the end of the bed. Halle’s avatar blinked across the screen, my sister reaching out to me from Boston. It was three hours later on the East Coast, so nearly eleven-thirty her time.

  Crap. I was supposed to call her.

  I smiled and sat on the bed, while accepting the call with a laugh. “Halle-bear!”

  She grinned, waving back to me through the screen. “Hey, Cass! How’s the school?”

  Her dark, brown hair was pulled into buns at the back of her head, with a streak of blue along the side. She had the same grey eyes I did, but hers were framed with thick, black glasses and freckles. A plaid flannel top hung from her shoulders over a tank top and I couldn’t help but smile. Halle was like a mirror image of me, and I didn’t feel complete without her.

  “School is good,” I told her. “I may have even made a friend.”

  “Ooh! Tell me everything.”

  I bobbed my head excitedly, more out of a reactionary impulse than enthusiasm. “It’s nice. They have all the third-grade classrooms joined together with a communal area in the center, it’s pretty wild. It will take some time to get used to the campus.”

  “I bet.”

  “Thankfully, the kids don’t show
up until next week,” I added.

  “Oh, geez. I’m sure you’ll do great. Those kids are going to love you. You’re way too maternal not to be instantly adored.”

  I smiled and pulled my knees toward my chest. “I hope you’re right. We’ve got an open house on Thursday.”

  “That should be good.”

  “Yeah, but I miss you,” I informed her with a pout. “When do I get to see you again? Are you coming back for Christmas?”

  “I don’t know, Hon. I’m going to try, but it depends on if I can get the time off. Peter is being a real wang these days.”

  “That stinks,” I said, nibbling on my bottom lip.

  Halle wagged her finger at me and grinned. “You could always fly out here too, you know.”

  “Are you kidding? My schedule is even more packed than yours; I have the school year to work around. We don’t get those extra-long breaks like you graduate students.”

  “Don’t worry, Cass. We’ll figure something out.”

  I spent the next few minutes bringing her up to speed on the campus. She nodded approvingly but, every now and then, my eyes flickered distractedly to the silver flute sitting on my nightstand. Halle must have noticed and cleared her throat uncomfortably.

  “How are you sleeping? Any unusual nocturnal activities?”

  “You mean besides the usual?” I responded dryly. “No, just collecting the Dust of Dreamers like I’m supposed too. Why?”

  Halle wore a guilty expression as she said, “I just want to make sure you’re getting enough rest, especially during the school week. Dust is important, but so is your career.”

  “I don’t exactly have a choice,” I reminded her. “Besides, you know I don’t need as much sleep as you.”

  She stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Well, you can’t stop me from worrying. When you don’t get enough sleep, it makes your anxiety worse—you know that. Tell Luna to give you a night off for once.”

  I did know that, and she was exactly right. However, my duties in the Fae Realm took precedence over my wellbeing.