Brine's Gate

By Holly Jesmer

Meet Genevieve Brine: shoe-freak, jellybean addict, high school freshman—and Gatekeeper to the Universe...
When Gen’s first high school date goes horribly wrong, she appears back in her room—instantly. A mysterious old man informs her that’s she’s the last GATE—beings with the power to open portals between anywhere in the universe.
So Gen does the only rational thing she can think of: she calls the cops and has the old man arrested.
I mean, what was he doing in her room?
Now Gen’s world will never be the same. The first week of high school is hard enough, but she has to juggle it with the first week of superpowers.
And nobody believes her—naturally.
And she’s crushing on her best friend’s off-limits brother—of course.
And her other best friend is a mind-reading zombie alien—wait... what?
When Gen’s powers attract the unwanted attention of a secret government organization—right, because that’s always the story—the lives of everybody she knows are put in danger. It’s up to Gen to save them, but who does she trust? The playboy war hero? Her geeky buddy with the ironic tee and the glowing orange eyes? Or a really cute turn-coat G-man?
And above all, will her own powers betray her in the end?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Holly Jesmer
• Release date: Feb 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311909541

Holly Jesmer

Holly Jesmer wasn’t born into a family of pirates or witches or ninjas, a fact which just... sucks.For real.She tried to console herself for years with chocolate, 90’s pop-rock ballads and electroshock therapy, but the pain of being a not-pirate-witch is still something she has to face every day.When Holly was going through a Goth phase (aka her teens) she found (see stole) a journal of stories that had belonged to her grandmother. The strange and wonderful stories she’d written inspired Holly with a life-long love of the unusual, and gave her the courage to try to create some of her own.If she couldn’t have real-life adventures (LARPING doesn’t count), she could at least write about the ones she’d like to have. Though she still wakes up every morning hoping to see a GATE floating above her bed.Holly lives in Colorado, with her two sisters and a conure named Zelda. She also had a brother, but he’s gone (he’s still alive, she just can’t remember where she left him.)

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Brine’s Gate

by Holly Jesmer

Copyright 2014-2015 Holly Jesmer and D Night

Smashwords Edition

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

***

Dedicated to my Number One Fan.

You’re the strongest person I’ll ever know.

You’ve been my inspiration and my friend, and I’ll love you forever.

This is for you Mom. Thanks for everything. Always…

Prologue – Awake

I’m not an angel. I’m not a demon, and I’m not a god. I’ve been called that before, many times, but it’s not true. Sometimes I correct them. Sometimes I let them believe. They want to so badly. It makes them feel safe, gives them hope, and it’s not like the world has a lot of that. But I’m no angel. That’s a cute idea, but if they actually read any of their holy books they’d know that if something like an angel existed, they’d never want to meet it. No, I have no orders. No divine mandate. No certainty. In other words, I’m as lost as you are.

And I’ve been lost for a long time.

Deathless sleep. A thousand eons, watching the stars form and die, from the warmth of my bed. And now I’m back again.

I had to come back. I had to get it right this time—whatever that actually means.

I have to come back. That’s all I know. Like it’s forged into my body. That’s why I keep leaving the comfort of… wherever I was. You might call it Heaven. I wouldn’t, because mine was empty.

So now I’m back here again. Didn’t bother looking up the year this time. They measure time in seconds, if you can believe that. But I probably would too, if I only lived seventy years.

The only difference this time around is her. She feels familiar, but I’m sure we haven’t met before. I would remember. There’s something special about her: she summoned me. Pulled my Sphere out of space, and into her bedroom.

She opened a Gate. A mortal. A child. If all the other Humans have similar powers then this world will be very different. I say different, but what I mean is crazy and terrifying.

Her name is Genevieve, she’s fifteen, and she’s the reason I’m here.

Chapter I – The Part Where I Convince You I’m Not Crazy

It wasn’t a dream! I cried across the lunchroom, drawing several stares and a couple smirks. I hadn’t meant to shout it, but I was frantic. Mile-a-minute-tunnel-vision frantic. I think my hands were still shaking. It wasn’t a dream!

I bumped into a group of texters, squeezed past some jocks—or some mean girls—I can’t remember. They probably thought, Who’s the crazy girl? Doesn’t matter. I ignored them all as I tore across the cafeteria and lunged for my chair.

Samantha sat across from me, black curls, olive skin and her small mouth made even smaller with her lips pressed together into a thin line. She sat alone, staring at me with wide almond eyes. She put down her half eaten tuna sandwich and watched me catch my breath.

We were both quiet for a minute. Samantha kept expecting me to say something. I didn’t even know where to start.

Nice entrance Gen, she snapped. What happened to ‘High school’s gonna be different. We’re not gonna be total klutzes.’? I just hope nobody was recording that.

Sam, I squeaked, trying to get a handle on my voice. You are not gonna believe this. It. Wasn’t. A. Dream!

She rolled her eyes. What wasn’t? she asked impatiently.

"Last night! The swirling lights! I created a Gate—it’s like a door in space—at least that’s what the old guy said before they took him away. But I swear, it’s all real! I took a deep breath. Sam… I’m a superhero," I said, pride and excitement spilling into my words.

Samantha stared at me like I’d just announced that I was the reincarnation of Shirley Temple, and the Good Ship Lollipop was in a hangar outside.

She pushed away her tuna salad like it had offended her, took out her compact mirror and started checking her face. So, I was expecting to see my friend Genevieve today. You know, the girl who promised me that she’d sworn off her stupid games, and was finally ready to be an adult. So, if you see her, will you tell her that I was looking for her? Sam said with fake sweetness. She shut the mirror with a snap.

Haughty and sarcastic—most people just didn’t get Sam. They wrote her off as just another cheerleader-in-the-making. But I’d known her since forever. You know, beginning of time and all that. I knew all her secrets. What happens in the sandbox stays in the sandbox. There was more to her. She just sucked at expressing how she felt. But believe me, there was a good girl inside—buried under the mean one.

She was like the closest thing I had to a sister. Most people thought we were, actually. We had same-ish hair and eyes, and the same height. But that’s where it stopped. Her skin was butterscotch and mine was cream. She had the delicate features and the body that made boys do a double-take. She was the Latina beauty, and I was more of the girl-next-door.

But I loved her too much to be jealous…

Well, most of the time.

I’m serious, Sam, I whispered.

"Well, Gen, then are you on something? Or are you just having a breakdown?" she asked venomously, flashing a sarcastic half-smile.

I frowned. I’m not having a breakdown.

She raised a finely-plucked eyebrow.

And I’m not taking any pills, I hissed.

Sam crossed her arms. Then do you want to tell me what really happened last night? Because I’m not in the mood for any more games. Her voice reminded me of a bird—a very angry bird.

Alright. Just a sec. I’m dying. I held up a finger and grabbed Sam’s Sierra Mist. I started gulping it down. My throat felt like sandpaper. Probably from all the adrenaline. And missing breakfast… and lunch.

Sure. Take it. It’s not like I wanted it or anything, Samantha snapped.

Normally I’d have a comeback ready, but I was lost in thought and decided to let her remark slide.

I sighed. I’ll start at the beginning. So last night I’m back in my room all of a sudden, and I feel this tingling and there’s a neon light behind me—except there are no neon lights on my street—

Samantha interrupted immediately. Wait. You’re saying you went back to your place with Spencer? she asked, looking suddenly confused.

No… I ditched that creeper after you abandoned me with him. Thanks for that by the way, I added sarcastically. That’s the last time I blind date with you.

You’re welcome, she responded in kind. "How could I possibly know that Kevin’s friend was going to be a loser? I’d never met him. That’s not my fault!"

Sam’s attitude was starting to annoy me. She was killing the mood.

Just listen, okay? So there are these lights—when I turn around—in the middle of my room. Like floating there. Like one of those pictures of the Milky Way—only it’s not a picture, it’s there, and it’s real. Right in front of me! I half-shouted.

The Milky Way was in your bedroom last night? Sam asked skeptically, shaking her head.

No. It wasn’t actually the galaxy. It was like a doorway. You know, a portal, a window. I found out when I tripped on my desk chair—I mean, gracefully slid my chair into the light and… Boom! It was gone! I made a popping sound with my mouth, and Sam looked around self-consciously, like I was attracting too much attention.

So then I start testing this thing right? Throwing in trash and pillows and blu-rays—I guess I got carried away, I still thought, ‘It’s a dream, yup. Has to be.’ Even though it didn’t feel like—

Wait, Samantha cut in. She had her eyes closed and her fingers pressed into her temples. You’re telling me your dream? she asked incredulously. She hated that.

"No! Aren’t you listening? It wasn’t a dream." I said, frustrated. She could be so dense sometimes.

Samantha opened her eyes and stared straight into mine. Like she was trying to figure out the joke.

I continued, my tone calm, So, it was fun at first, tossing things in I mean, but then when I realized it wasn’t a dream I was like, ‘I’m not getting that stuff back am I?’ And then I was like, ‘Crap.’ So then I switched to throwing jellybeans. You know, the ones with like a hundred flavors?

I thought you said you were too old for those.

"Yeah, well, I guess I am… I’m just using them up," I said sheepishly.

Didn’t you say that about the last bag?

Whatever! I snapped. "Anyway, so I’m tossing the licorice ones in first—because yuck. And then I’m like, is this a dream? And then this old guy steps out of the shadows—and I’m like, ‘how long was he standing there?’—and he tells me that it’s not a dream. He said that the doorway of lights is something called a Gate, and that—this is the cool part Sam—I created it!" I said, my voice rising as I remembered my strange feeling of excitement.

I tried to finish with some dramatic flair. Too late I realized that I was doing jazz hands and that some people were actually watching. I let my hands fall and stared down at the table, suddenly embarrassed.

"Well, that was a really neat story Gen, Samantha mocked. Thank you so much for wasting my lunch and not taking anything I said seriously." She leaned back as her plastic chair creaked, arms and legs both crossed, her lips a thin line. She looked like the banner image for disapproval.com—if that was a thing.

I looked around. Where’s Kevin? I asked, searching for my other best friend. The first thing you should know about Kevin is—well—he’s weird. Think Albert Einstein mixed with one of those characters from South Park. He’s a genius and he’s dumb fun—or just dumb half of the time. Sometimes he’s clueless, sometimes he’s moody, but mostly he’s like some weird candy: you never know which flavor you’re getting next.

I think he’s bipolar or something.

Anyway, his parents moved here from Australia about two years ago. I showed him around school, and he’s been following me like a puppy ever since. He’s the little brother I never wanted, but he listens to everything that I say, so that’s why we hang out.

For the longest time I thought he had a crush on me. I’d always chosen to ignore it, hoping I was just misreading things. Because I didn’t want to hurt him, and because that would’ve ruined our friendship.

But it turns out the truth was much worse: he had a thing for Sam.

I know, right?

And guess what? She felt the same way. That’s a big double-yew-tee-eff right there. It hit me out of the blue, when they changed their relationship status, with each other. I mean she’d never told me anything about liking Kevin.

Now I was trapped in a special kind of hell, watching my best friends, my only friends—I’m Miss Popular, if you couldn’t already tell—change into some kind of sick romance. If it didn’t work out, I’d have to pick sides or risk being stuck in the middle; I’d lose one of them either way. And if it did work out? Well, they hadn’t left me behind yet, but it was only a matter of time. Last night’s double date was an ugly glimpse into the future of my social life.

I don’t know, Samantha said tersely. He didn’t show this morning either.

The lunch bell rang, and Samantha couldn’t leave her seat fast enough.

I followed her down the hall as she made for her locker. She was clearly livid about something. I know because one of her tells is pretending I’m not standing right next to her.

So, you don’t believe me, do you? I asked, driving a wedge into the awkward silence.

Believe what? she snapped, rifling around for the books for next class.

My story. What happened to me last night, I muttered.

Are you serious? she asked venomously. Gen, we’re the Sleep-in-Sundays Club. Remember? How could I possibly believe you?

The Sleep-in-Sundays Club. That was the fake organization that Sam and I had founded a couple years ago, after our parents tried dragging us to church. It was when my parents were about to get divorced, and Sam’s became born again or something. We’d tried going Gandhi at first, but when passive resistance didn’t work, we kinda went ballistic.

It was our protest, not against going to church, but against following whatever a lot of people said—just because a lot of people said it. Being told to believe things that our hearts couldn’t feel. It meant that we were the hopeful skeptics. We were the girls who would’ve liked to believe in destiny and karma and magic and true love—but we really didn’t. We couldn’t.

It had been a sad time for both of us. We didn’t see any of those things around us. And we only had each other. So that’s what we believed in. And we promised to never fool ourselves with impossible things like soulmates and superstition. That meant no Valentine’s Day, faeries, wishes, and happily ever afters either.

You’re either joking, or you’re in denial, she finished. Or you’ve just gone crazy.

I’m not either one. And for the last time I’m not crazy.

Then what is it?

What’s what?

What’s really wrong with you?

I felt a flare of anger inside. I told you already. I—

Because here’s what I know, Sam interrupted. Her brows drew together. It was as dark as her baby-face could go. I could tell she was about to let lose anyway, she just wanted me to open for her tirade. "I thought you were with Spencer—in his car. I’m completely freaking out all morning. I mean, the announcement at Assembly? And then it was even on the news! And then you don’t show up? I looked everywhere for you. I even knocked on the bathroom stalls—twice! And you don’t answer my texts? Of course I thought… of course I just…" Anger and panic fought for control of her face. She started tearing up. She dabbed her eyes with her fingers, hoping that nobody had seen her break down.

"And now here you are! Totally oblivious to what you’ve been putting me through, acting like you’re on drugs and saying weird things and looking like you’re—are you on drugs? Seriously? You look terrible!"

That was an understatement. I didn’t need to see a mirror to know I was rocking the crazy look today. But still—ouch. That hurt, even if she was my BFF. I gently felt the puffs under my eyes. I… didn’t really sleep, I admitted. And it didn’t help that I was also wearing last night’s outfit. I brushed a chocolate curl out of my eyes. Yeah, like that made a difference.

Sam, I’m sorry. What did I miss? What about Spencer and the news? I asked, trying to sound sympathetic.

Spencer’s car hit a tree last night. It was a total wreck. He’s dead, she whispered.

She slammed her locker shut and marched off to her next class.

Wow. No shortage on melodrama, eh Sam?

She’s not usually like that—well, not quite that bad.

I realized after a minute, that, since neither of us had known Spencer for more than an hour, it was probably me she was worried about: she thought that I had been in the car with him.

Hadn’t I? The memory flashed before my eyes. I was riding with Spencer, last night. Sam wanted to be alone with Kevin, and Spencer had offered to take me home. I knew he was a creep. Even if he hadn’t been high. Even if he’d been a good driver.

I’d wanted to wait for my mom to pick me up, but no—of course that was too lame. Peer pressure one, Genevieve zero I guess.

Crap.

And in between getting baked and clumsily trying to feel me up, he’d barely had his eyes on the road. I’d been scared. Really scared. Then the next thing I knew I was back in my room, the Gate behind me.

Hmm. The memory began to fade immediately. Like the details of a dream. I frowned and tried to hold the pieces together, tried to remember what had happened in between. Just before I ended up in my room…

I closed my eyes. Concentrated as hard as I could.

Nope. I got nada.

Hello insides of eyelids.

Are you seriously going to just stand there? What if Ms. Crow caught you? Samantha chirped.

I gasped in surprise and opened my eyes. Samantha was back. She stood in front of me, one arm folded across her front, supporting the elbow of her phone hand. Every so often it would vibrate, and she’d tap out a one word response.

What’re doing? You’re gonna miss class, I snapped. I wasn’t in the mood to hear whatever comeback she’d thought of.

"Look, I don’t know if you’re actually going Beautiful Mind, or if this is just a really strange episode of PMS, but, Samantha rolled her eyes and waved her hands around airily, I’m not going to leave you… alone," she said with a