My name's Julia Summers. I'm seventeen, a high school senior with what most people would call a perfect life. Popular, stylish, locker overflowing with gifts and love notes from admirers. And my boyfriend? None other than Raven Finch—the intelligent, talented, and infuriatingly handsome Student Council President.
Yeah. That's a complete lie.
In reality, my life is the definition of chaos. I'm a glorified babysitter to three wild siblings, ignored by boys like I'm wallpaper, and hopelessly crushing on Raven from a distance. He doesn't even know I exist. Well, maybe as "that girl who tripped over a trash can last semester." Twice.
My family? Loud. Dysfunctional. Psychically gifted—and no, I'm not kidding. Try dealing with telepathic arguments at breakfast and mind-control slip-ups at school. Fun.
I've fantasized about selling my siblings to the highest bidder. No takers so far.
"Harley! Get out of the bathroom!" I yelled, pounding on the door like it owed me money. "I'm going to be late!"
"Five more minutes!" she called back from behind the door.
"She's caking her face for Ashton," Charley said with a snort as he passed by, shirt half-buttoned and shoes in hand. "Poor guy doesn't even know she exists."
The door swung open with perfect timing.
"Screw you, Charley. I heard that," Harley snapped, leaning against the frame.
"You were meant to," he shot back with a smug grin, sticking his tongue out.
I rolled my eyes and pushed past her. "Move."
I slammed the door shut behind me, ready to reclaim my morning. But the moment I reached for the shower gel—
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"
I stormed back out, holding up the empty bottle like a trophy of war. "Who used up the shower gel? There was barely any left this morning and none of you geniuses thought to say something?"
Charley, Harley, and Justin just stared at me as if I were performing Hamlet.
"Harley used the bathroom last," Justin offered helpfully, pointing at her.
"I did," Harley admitted, "but it was practically empty already. I even mixed it with water. Be grateful for my sacrifice."
I squeezed the plastic bottle so hard it crumpled in my grip, then chucked it into the laundry basket and stomped downstairs.
"What's with the stomping?" Mom asked without looking up from the sandwiches she was packing.
"Would you believe your children used up all the shower gel and left nothing for me?"
"My children?" she said with a smirk. "They're your siblings, Julia."
"Yeah? Then why do I feel like the only adult around here?"
"Oh, come on. Stop being so dramatic," Dad said, picking up a burnt piece of toast and immediately pulling a face.
"You're not going to scold them?" I said, exasperated. "Ugh!"
"If you want better toast, there's more on the other plate," Mom added, plucking the blackened slice from his hand and tossing it in the trash.
I grumbled all the way to their bathroom.
Once the chaos of showering was over, I adjusted Justin's tie and herded the three of them out the front door. Our parents had already left, probably to "go vibe with the universe" or whatever new-age thing they were into this week.
"Everyone got their keys?" I asked.
They held them up in synchronized boredom.
We walked along the sidewalk toward school, and I issued the usual morning warning. "Remember: no powers in public. Harley, did you hear me?"
"Yeah, yeah, Mom," she said, not looking up from her phone.
I leaned toward Charley. "Keep an eye on her."
"I'm the one who should be watching him," Harley snapped. "I'm older."
"We're twins," Charley said flatly. "You were born three minutes before me."
"Still older."
"And I'm more responsible."
"So you're saying I'm irresponsible?" Harley shot him a glare.
"I didn't say that," Charley replied coolly. "But if the shoe fits, wear it, Cinderella."
He picked up his pace, leaving Harley fuming behind him.
"You little piece of—" Harley yelled and lunged after him, yanking his hair.
"Ow! You savage!" Charley shrieked, grabbing her hair in retaliation. "Bet Ashton doesn't know you're a feral animal!"
"Let go!"
"No, you let go!"
"Oh my God." Justin sighed beside me.
And that was it.
"YOU ABSOLUTE MORONS!" I exploded. "Are you seriously fighting on the sidewalk like it's WrestleMania?! Must you embarrass me every single day?!"
They froze mid-yank as if just realizing people were watching. Which they were.
"Separate. Now."
They let go like their hands had been scalded.
"She started it."
"He started it."
"Incredible," I muttered. "Shut up. Go to school. Watch over Justin. And don't talk to me until your brain cells start functioning again."
They slunk off, still glaring at each other. I watched until they disappeared around the corner.
"At least I'm the oldest," I said to no one. "My powers are stronger. Not that it matters when you're babysitting circus rejects."
Our psychic gifts were hereditary. My dad could read minds. My mom had Sherlock-level instincts. Us kids? We had mind control. Snap your fingers, bend reality. But public use? Major risk. And while I tried to follow the rules, my siblings? Not so much.
I trudged into the buzzing hallways of my school, feeling like I'd already lived an entire day. Shoulders slumped, I made my way to my locker.
"Morning," I muttered.
"Whoa. What's with the funeral face?" Kimberly, my best friend, asked as she shoved books into her locker.
"Long morning." I sighed and leaned against the metal door. "The brats started early today. Honestly? This was one of their better mornings."
She gave a sympathetic chuckle. "You love them."
"Do I?" I deadpanned. "I'm considering an ad on Craigslist."
"Where's Jake?" I asked, glancing around.
"Not sure. Haven't seen him—oh wait, speak of the devil."
Jake appeared, grin in place and confidence radiating like a cologne commercial.
"Morning, ladies." He popped open his locker. His scent hit us like a department store aisle.
"Why are you always smiling?" I grumbled.
"Because one of us has to bring the sunshine." He tugged at my cheeks. "Smileeee."
I slapped his hands away. "You're annoying."
Kim laughed. "Where were you? I figured you'd already be here."
"Chit-chatting with my girls," he said, dramatically mimicking a runway walk while chewing imaginary gum.
"Not again," Kim laughed. "Every time you imitate Miranda, I lose it."
"I do it with love," Jake said, flipping imaginary hair. "Anyway, I heard something juicy."
"Why do they let you gossip with them?" Kim asked. "You're not even a girl."
"I'm gay," Jake said, as if it explained everything. And it kind of did.
Jake had come out two years ago. Surprisingly, no one at school cared. In fact, the girls embraced it like he'd unlocked a new level of fabulous. His confidence spread, and more students came out. Anyone who bullied got socially vaporized.
Like Paul Kennedy. He called Jason Drek a slur in the cafeteria once. Thought people would back him. They didn't. Total social exile. Never came back after summer break. Karma in full HD.
"So," I said. "What's the news?"
"We're getting new students," Jake said, bouncing with excitement.
"And that's supposed to be exciting… why?" I raised an eyebrow.
"I'm tired of seeing your faces," he said. "You always look grumpy. Kim looks bored. I need a new circle."
Kim smacked him. "Who ditched us during our Miranda prank again?"
"I was busy searching for a boyfriend," Jake said, dodging her second swipe.
"You mean your empty head was echoing too loud to hear us call?"
Kim and I high-fived.
"Bullies!" Jake pouted. "This is why I need new friends."
"I've got Skittles," Kim offered, holding up a pack.
Jake turned back, glaring. "You think you can bribe me with—" He snatched the bag. "Okay, yes. You absolutely can."
I shook my head, smiling as we walked to class—Jake bouncing, Kim bickering, and me feeling like maybe, just maybe, today might not be so bad.