For the first time in weeks, I found myself staring at a history textbook instead of a glowing psychic rune.
I blinked hard, forcing myself to focus. Names, dates, and causes of supernatural uprisings blurred together in front of me as my mind drifted—back to Lysandra's capture, the look on Julian's face when our powers had collided, and of course, that kiss.
"Oh my God," I muttered, dropping her pen and dragging my hands down my face. "How am I supposed to focus on the Industrial Revolution when I literally stopped a psychic villain two weeks ago?"
Across the library table, Kim leaned over her notebook. "Right? Like, what are we even doing here? This exam week feels like a joke after all that."
Jake snorted from his seat nearby. "A joke that still counts for 50% of our final grade."
I groaned. "Cruel. Cruel and unusual punishment."
Despite the whining, we spent the rest of the afternoon buried in books. The Psychic Academy mission had drawn us so deeply into the Gossamer Network's world, we'd nearly forgotten about the mundanities of school life. Now, faced with the very real threat of GPA damage, our focus shifted—if temporarily—from psychic espionage to algebra and essays.
⸻
The days passed in a blur of bubble sheets, caffeine-fueled cram sessions, and whispered review questions exchanged under desks. The adrenaline I had once reserved for psychic combat was now funneled into surviving my calculus exam. Honestly, it might have been harder. Every now and then, I'd glance at the back of the classroom and half expect Lysandra to stroll in with glowing eyes and a mocking smile, but instead, it was just our very mortal teacher in a tweed jacket handing out pencils.
And then suddenly, just like that, the last bell rang. Kim, Jake, Julian, Alvin, and I tumbled out of the building like we'd been shot from a cannon, collapsing onto the grass near the parking lot in a pile of triumphant groans.
"We survived," Kim moaned, dramatically throwing her arms over her face.
"Barely," Jake muttered. "But I think I wrote 'telepathic link disruption' in place of 'cell mitosis' at some point."
I laughed and flopped back on the grass, letting the sun hit my face. "If we didn't fail, I think we deserve a trophy. Or cake. Possibly both."
"Cake first. Trophy can wait," Alvin said with a rare smile. "We earned the break."
But it wasn't really a break.
_____________
My break began with a buzz—literally. My pendant glowed as I stepped through the wide obsidian gates of the Gossamer Network's headquarters. The energy inside the facility felt charged, alive. It was the start of my full-time summer training.
Julian met me in the atrium, his expression unreadable as always. His dark eyes held mine for just a moment too long.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Born ready," I replied, forcing myself not to look away.
We hadn't talked about the kiss. Not once. Not in the debriefing meetings, not during brief encounters in the hallway, not even in that quiet moment after Lysandra had been secured. Every time our hands brushed, or our gazes lingered, it hung there between us—unsaid, burning.
Training began immediately. Energy control in the mornings, combat simulations in the afternoons. By the end of the first week, my body ached in places I didn't know could ache, and my pendant pulsed with exhausted light.
"Slow your breathing," Julian said, arms crossed as he watched me hover six feet above the ground. "You're siphoning too much from the core field."
"Easy for you to say," I muttered through gritted teeth.
A warm chuckle came from behind us. "She's got your stubborn streak," dad said, entering the training hall with mom in tow.
I wobbled midair. "Mom? Dad?"
Mom raised a brow. "What, you thought we wouldn't come check on our daughter after she jumped into a high-risk rescue mission and kissed her mentor?"
My jaw dropped. Julian choked on absolutely nothing.
"I—what? I didn't—We didn't—!"
Mum just winked. "I've seen that look. Classic Summers trouble."
Julian excused himself not-so-smoothly, muttering something about "admin reports" and practically sprinting from the room.
I glared after him, cheeks aflame. "Thanks, Mom."
⸻
Kim had more or less unofficially moved into the Gossamer Network. She was always around. Sometimes she brought comics and snacks. Sometimes she helped the tech staff organize inventory. And more than once, I caught her sitting in on training theory classes, making sarcastic notes in the margins of the psychic field textbooks.
Alvin and Jake had become nearly inseparable.
"They're totally attached at the hip now," Kim whispered to me during lunch in the courtyard of the Network's gardens.
Jake was currently showing Alvin how to use one of the illusion projectors, both of them laughing too loud.
"They're adorable," I countered.
"They're chaotic," She corrected.
I grinned. "I ship it."
"Hard same," Kim said. "Also, guess what?"
"What?"
"We have official titles now."
I blinked. "We what?"
"'Friends of the Network,'" Kim said proudly, pulling out a tiny silver pin with the Gossamer emblem etched in the center. "They gave one to me and Jake after Lysandra."
"No way."
"Yes way. We're literally honorary Network personnel. The receptionist even called me Agent Kim."
I snorted. "Please tell me you made her say it twice."
"Three times." She smirked.
___________
Ah! I almost forgot,
Cassian was healing. Slowly, steadily. He wasn't doing full training yet, but his aura had stabilized. His grip no longer trembled when he practiced with objects, and his focus was sharper each time I saw him.
"You're relying too much on your left side," Cassian said again, this time louder, pointing his spoon at me like it was a laser pointer and not covered in chocolate pudding. He was slouched in one of the floating chairs just outside the sparring dome, a blanket over his legs like an old man watching neighborhood kids ruin his lawn.
I wiped sweat off my brow with the edge of my shirt and tried not to pant too obviously. "I'm left-handed, Cass."
"So was the last person who got flung into a wall by a Shifter. It's not a defense."
Behind me, Julian was resetting the sparring dome's kinetic field with a few subtle hand movements. The energy shimmered in a dome around us, bright gold pulsing at the edges like the inside of a living heartbeat. He didn't say anything, but I could feel his eyes on my back. Like always.
The silence between us had turned into its own kind of communication. A language of half-smiles, long glances, near-touches that sparked with something just beneath the surface. It was both thrilling and maddening. Like standing at the edge of a cliff with no idea if you were going to fall or fly.
I stepped out of the dome and flopped down on the bench next to Cassian, grabbing a towel from the stack beside him.
"You okay?" I asked, not just because he was still pale, but because there was a tension in his shoulders today—something stiff, like a memory caught between breaths.
"I had a dream last night," he said, slow and careful. "I think it was real. A memory, maybe. From when I was… gone."
My stomach tightened. "What happened?"
"There was a voice. Not human. Not exactly. It kept asking me questions—like it was testing me. Or observing me." He looked down at his spoon. "It knew I was an Amplifier. And it was looking for Echoes. Plural."
I blinked. "Wait, you mean—?"
He nodded. "You're not the only one, Julia. Whatever's out there… it's hunting for psychics like you."
Before I could even process that, a high-pitched laugh interrupted us.
Jake and Alvin strolled into the training chamber, looking like they'd just walked off a summer camp brochure. Alvin's cheeks were pink from sun exposure, and Jake's shirt had a glittery sticker that read 'I Survived Level Five Mind Mazes!'
"Didn't peg you for a sticker guy," I teased as they approached.
Jake grinned. "This was a bet. Alvin said I couldn't last five minutes in the Simulation Grid without screaming."
"And?" Alvin asked, crossing his arms with a smug tilt to his lips.
Jake turned to me with a perfectly straight face. "I lasted six. And screamed for four."
Alvin rolled his eyes but didn't stop smiling. He looked so relaxed now, especially next to Jake. I'd never seen him so… light.
Kim waltzed in not a minute later, dragging a wheeled cooler and wearing oversized sunglasses, even though we were indoors. "Delivery!" she called. "I brought mood-lifting popsicles. Don't ask what flavor they are. Just eat them before they evaporate."
"Why would they evaporate—?" Alvin asked, accepting one.
"They're made from temporary thoughtforms I froze during one of Julia's emotional outbursts last week," she said with a wink. "Tastes like bottled rage and daydreams."
"I hate how that sounds delicious," Jake muttered.
We all sat down in the lounge area beside the training dome, slurping mysterious emotional popsicles and watching the light pulse along the energy walls.
Cassian stayed quiet, his gaze distant.
"So…" Kim said after a pause, twirling the stick of her now-half-eaten popsicle. "Anyone want to address the emotionally charged, mysterious, dangerously hot psychic in the room?"
"Which one?" Jake asked. "There are like four of us here."
She smacked his arm lightly and nodded toward Julian, who was still inside the dome, slowly walking through sparring forms on his own. His movements were precise, almost meditative, and every so often, he glanced toward our group—toward me.
I tried not to look back. I failed.
Jake raised an eyebrow. "Still haven't talked to him about it?"
"No," I said, suddenly very interested in the bottom of my popsicle.
Kim sighed dramatically. "Look, I know you're a literal Echo psychic who can amplify other people's powers and feelings and whatever, but maybe amplify your own honesty for once."
I groaned. "It's not that simple."
"Sure it is," Jake said. "You kissed. You like him. He likes you. Unless he's been holding your hand for fun and staring at you like you're an eclipse just for the aesthetic."
Alvin nodded. "He's definitely into you."
"You don't even like talking about feelings," I said, pointing at him.
"I don't. But your tension is so loud it's affecting my focus during grounding exercises," he deadpanned.
I leaned back on the bench, arms crossed, heart pounding. "What if he regrets it?"
"He doesn't," Cassian said suddenly.
We all turned to look at him.
"He thinks about it," he continued. "A lot. I can feel it when we train. It's like… he's afraid touching it too hard will break something. But it's there."
Silence stretched between us.
Then, as if summoned by fate and frustration, Julian walked out of the dome.
His dark shirt clung to him with sweat, his hair pushed back from his forehead. He stopped a few feet away from us and tilted his head slightly at me. "Julia, want to try that energy reversal sequence again?"
My pulse jumped. "Sure."
I stood and followed him back into the dome, my friends' eyes burning on my back like spotlights.
Inside, the air was thicker. Or maybe that was just me.
We faced each other. He held his hands out, palms forward, ready for the exercise. I mirrored him.
After training, Julian still continued to avoid my gaze like it burned. Since the kiss, he had somehow been like this and I won't lie, it's driving me crazy.
_________
1:30AM.
The alarm buzzed like a wasp in my ear.
I sat up in the dark, heart thudding, palms already sweaty. For a moment, I just sat there in the stillness of my room, surrounded by the gentle hum of the Gossamer Network's overnight energy stabilizers. My sheets were tangled around my legs, a mess of restless sleep and too many thoughts. Julian's message echoed in my mind like a heartbeat:
"North tower. 0200. Come alone."
I didn't need to ask why.
This wasn't about training. Not about drills or psychic amplification or strategy. This was about everything we hadn't said. Everything we'd been avoiding since the kiss. Since that spark in the dark that changed everything.
Quietly, I dressed in my lightest training uniform, fingers fumbling a little as I zipped up the side. I didn't bother with my boots—just soft-soled flats that wouldn't echo in the hallway. I didn't want anyone hearing me sneak out. Especially not Kim. She'd find a way to appear out of thin air and demand to livestream the whole thing "for emotional posterity."
The halls of the Network at night were a different kind of eerie. Not scary—just… quieter. Dim lights pulsed at timed intervals like a calm, sleeping heartbeat. I passed empty training domes and softly humming energy chambers, all glowing faintly with residual psychic charge. It felt like walking through the lungs of a sleeping beast. A powerful one.
The North tower was old, unused for regular drills but recently reactivated for advanced resonance experiments. I took the stairs two at a time, my breath sharp in my chest, every step echoing louder than it should.
When I reached the top, the door was slightly ajar.
He was already inside.
Julian stood by the open arch window, silhouetted by the moonlight spilling across the wide floor. He wasn't in his uniform—just a dark long-sleeved shirt rolled at the forearms and fitted training pants. He looked less like a mentor and more like a myth. Something carved from shadows and starlight.
He turned when he heard me. Our eyes locked.
"You came," he said quietly.
I didn't speak for a moment. Just let the silence fill the space between us. The room buzzed faintly with ambient psychic energy, probably activated by his presence alone.
"You asked," I finally said, my voice softer than I meant.
He nodded once. "I didn't think you would."
"Then why did you send the message?"
"Because I hoped."
My heart twisted. The honesty in his voice, the rawness—it wasn't like Julian to sound like this. Controlled. Measured. Always composed. But tonight? He was cracked open, just a little. Enough.
"I've been avoiding this," he admitted, taking a slow step forward. "Us."
"Yeah," I said. "I noticed."
Another step. We were barely a few feet apart now. The air between us felt charged, like a summer storm about to break.
"I thought… if we kept training, if we focused on what mattered, we could ignore it. That it would fade."
"And did it?"
He looked at me then—not just at me, but into me. Like he was trying to read every unspoken thought I'd ever had.
"No," he said. "It didn't."
I took a breath. My hands were shaking. "So why keep pretending it didn't happen?"
"Because I didn't know what it meant." His voice was low, almost broken. "Because I didn't know what I meant. To you."
That stopped me.
And then I said the thing I'd been holding in for weeks. "Julian… do you think I kiss people and forget about it?"
He blinked. "No. I know you don't."
"Then don't reduce what happened to confusion. It wasn't confusion."
He looked away for a second. "It wasn't. You're right."
I stepped closer. "Then stop punishing yourself for feeling something."
His jaw tightened. "It's not that simple, Julia."
"Yes, it is," I said, louder now, stepping even closer. "We've fought side by side. You've taught me things I never thought I'd understand. We've literally shared thoughts. How can this—" I pressed a hand to my chest, "—be more terrifying than any of that?"
"Because if I lose you," he said, "it won't be in battle. It'll be because I let this happen and wasn't enough."
That broke something in me.
I reached up, touched his face lightly, the way I'd wanted to for weeks. He flinched, just slightly, like the contact was electric.
"You're enough," I whispered.
His breath caught. "You don't know that."
"I do," I said. "I've felt it. Every time we link. Every time we train. Every time you look at me like I'm the only thing keeping your world from falling apart."
His hands found mine, clasping them tightly, like he was afraid I'd disappear. "I've spent so long trying to control everything around me. To protect the Network. To protect you."
"You don't have to protect me from this," I said. "You just have to let it be real."
A long pause. Then—
"I think I'm in love with you," Julian said.
The words weren't loud. They didn't echo through the dome. But they hit me like a tidal wave. I swayed slightly, the impact of them so real I almost laughed.
"I know I'm in love with you," I breathed.
Then we moved at the same time.
It wasn't like the first kiss—hesitant, hidden in shadow, a stolen moment laced with fear. This one was fierce. Honest. The kind of kiss that doesn't ask for permission because it already knows. His arms wrapped around my waist, and I felt his power hum just beneath his skin, mixing with mine in a current that lit up the whole room. Our auras shimmered—gold and blue and silver—twisting like ribboned starlight around us.
We finally pulled apart, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.
"Well," I said with a shaky laugh, "that's going to mess with the synchronization drills."
He smiled—really smiled—and it felt like sunlight cutting through a hurricane. "Let's mess them up together."
Outside, the moon had started to sink, casting longer shadows across the floor.
Inside, something had shifted.
No more silence. No more pretending.
Just the two of us, standing in the aftermath of everything we'd avoided—and finally choosing to feel it anyway.
Together.