Into the Blue Beam

ONE

Amy Foster had too many names.

First of all, there was "Amy"—the one, at this point, she considered to be hers. There was a time when she'd thought she was Natalie Freeman—one of her other names—but ever since her parents had been kidnapped and she'd seen the Lost Cities, that was the one she forgot about the most.

She supposed she should have been grateful Amy and Natalie didn't have nicknames, or else she'd have even more names. Then again, having a nickname always sounded like fun to her—but the best she could come up with was "Lee," and that would only work if her name had been spelled "Natalee."

So no nickname—not for the first two, at least. Her third name, Evelyn Harris, could be shortened to "Eve" or "Evie." That was what most people at her school called her, anyway.

It didn't bother her as much anymore. She figured this was what it was like to have five names like her classmate, Leonard John Ralph Alan Gupta. It was just a matter of show—whichever person she wanted to be in the moment, that was the name she adopted.

Most days, though, she was Evie. And that was okay.

Even though Evie was kind of boring.

Or maybe that was her projecting her feelings regarding P.E. onto her thought process.

"The Principle of Progression ensures that your chances of being injured are minimized, due to the process of steadily increasing the difficulty and/or duration of the exercise being performed," Coach Kinkaid droned, much to everyone's boredom. Clearly she would have rather been doing anything else—except for sex ed., Amy supposed—and it translated in the I'm-reading-this-off-a-PowerPoint way she taught the lesson.

The class wasn't exactly being cooperative, either. To Amy's right, Leonard and his friends were playing an intense video game on their phones. It kept on distracting Amy, but Coach Kinkaid didn't stop them. It was probably the only thing keeping any of them going at this point.

Just then, Amy felt something buzz in the pocket of her shorts. Her fingers twitched, but she held back. Only four more minutes until the bell, she reminded herself.

Still, the buzzing got worse.

Amy held for a few more seconds before she broke and pulled out her phone. But when she turned it on, there weren't any notifications. What the—oh.

She reached again and grabbed the only other device that could make a sound like that—the small silver square Sophie had given her. An Imparter.

Now that it was in Amy's hand, she started to think over the potential consequences of what would happen next. She could answer the call and have to explain to her classmates why she was carrying an alien-like gadget with an ultra-attractive person on the other end. While it would be way less boring than this class, it would not end well.

She glanced at the name on the screen: SOPHIE FOSTER.

Amy's heart tightened. She hadn't spoken to her sister in weeks—and while she got the whole saving-the-world stuff Sophie had to do, sometimes it felt unfair.

"Sorry," she whispered, tucking the Imparter back in her pocket.

"If you apply the Principle of Progression, you'll have a less likely chance of abandoning your workout program," Coach Kinkaid yawned.

"Too late!" Leonard called, and the whole class snickered. The "joke"—if one could even call it that—wasn't particularly funny (Actually, it's not funny at all, Amy amended), but she guffawed particularly loudly, to get out her energy if nothing else.

Coach Kinkaid waited longer than necessary to start speaking again. "So if you apply the Principle of Specificity, which we discussed yesterday, to the Principle of Progression, you have the start of—"

She was interrupted by the minute-long excerpt of Single Ladies that blasted over the speakers—the school's version of a bell. The songs were randomized every week, which meant Single Ladies had already been played every week of the school year so far, thus ruining any chance of Amy including it on her Spotify playlist. At least the principal picked lousy songs anyway.

"Tomorrow we'll go over the Principle of Overload!" Coach called, but everyone was practically out the door already.

"Hey, Evie!" Leonard called, sidling next to her as she weaved her way through the 3:15 crowd. "I was wondering if you'd wanna come to my birthday party next Friday. I'm turning thirteen!"

Amy pushed aside the butterflies that suddenly blossomed in her stomach. Yeah, sure, she liked Leonard—as a friend. That was all an invitation to a birthday party was: an invite to friends.

Except she'd overheard him talking to his other friends about the party, and apparently his parents didn't want a whole lot of people coming.

So it was sort of like an exclusive party for all his closest friends. Plus she was one of the only girls she'd overheard (more like eavesdropped, if she was being honest with herself) him asking.

But elves, she reminded herself, as she had to do every time Leonard was nearby. It sounded stupid, but elves were the reasons she never got too friendly with him. It was the fact that they existed—and she was the only human that knew about them—that made her hesitate. Sophie was an elf, and she was a huge part of Amy's life. So if Amy started dating Leonard, she'd have to keep that a secret from him.

It's just a party, though. It's not like going to the movies or something.

Leonard shot her a smirk, and her heart skipped a beat. "Okay," she squeaked, then cleared her throat. "I mean, okay. I'll have to ask my parents."

"If they say no, I'll come over and sneak you out," he said, punching her shoulder. It was something a friend would do, yet Amy couldn't stop smiling, even when he jogged back to his regular group.

"Elves," she said out loud, hoping that would make some difference. The kid next to her shot her a baffled look, and she stuck her tongue out. They turned away.

It wasn't like Amy was allowed in the Lost Cities again anyway. And other than today's call, Sophie hadn't been contacting her as often—which hurt, but at the same time, it helped Amy adjust to human life. Some days she could even pretend everything was normal. Maybe in time, everything would be normal. So what was the harm in going to a silly birthday party, or occassionally hanging out with Leonard?

Nothing. It's totally fine. Actually, it's great!

Amy had never had a boyfriend before. She wondered if it was like those cheesy movies her mom always watched.

That, of course, directed her brain to kissing, and the whole walk to her house, that was all she thought about. Maybe once she called Sophie back, she'd ask what kissing was like. Then again, Sophie wasn't the kind of person to know that kind of stuff, even if she did have three guys chasing after her.

Amy took out the key her dad had given her and unlocked the door. Both of her parents were still working, so she had the house to herself for a good hour or two. She stuck a pizza pocket in the microwave, turned on the TV, and poured herself a glass of orange juice. Her brain was just starting to wander back to Leonard when there was a knock.

The microwave went off at the same time, and the high-pitched beep beep BEEP matched Amy's heart. Ever since her family had been kidnapped, it was harder to stay calm when someone came by.

She took a deep breath and went to the door. The person knocked again, and she opened it. "Chill out, I'm right—" The rest of her sentence died in her throat when she met the ice-blue eyes of a very familiar blond boy standing on her doorstep.

He smirked. "Hey, there."

Amy blinked. They stood there like that, staring at each other, until she finally slammed the door. "You've got to be kidding me!"