I glanced at the time, my eyes widening slightly, before quickly dropping my phone onto the counter and hurrying to finish my makeup. I didn’t do too much, though. I couldn’t really be bothered to spend any more time trying to cover the bags under my eyes or the bruise on my cheek from where Alice had smacked me during training a couple of weeks ago.

  It was pretty faded, though, I decided as I turned my head slightly, keeping my eyes fixed on my reflection. It was only noticeable at some angles, and even then, it wasn’t too bad. People would have to be really staring at me to spot it, and I knew that was possible, but…

  My hand twitched as I debated grabbing my concealer and dabbing it on, but instead, I grabbed my setting spray. I could deal with it. People would already be staring. Them being able to see a hint of a shadow on my cheekbone wouldn’t change anything, and they’d probably already noticed it anyway.

  I picked up my hairbrush and narrowed my eyes at my reflection before beginning to drag it through the mess on top of my head. How was it so bad? I’d just been sleeping! I hadn’t even had any nightmares, but it looked as though I’d been dragged through a hedge without transforming or something. It was a mess.

  A wince skitted across my face as I pulled at the many knots. Somehow, despite being resistant to pain and basically bulletproof, brushing my hair still hurt. I didn’t understand the logic of that at all. Surely, if I could have a car thrown at me and be fine, I could basically rip my hair out and not feel a thing? But no. That wasn’t how it worked, apparently. Every slight tug of my hair still hurt every single time.

  Dropping my hairbrush, I threw my head forward, bending over as I gathered my hair into a high ponytail and tying it up before straightening again to peer at myself in the mirror. It didn’t look too bad. I had a few flyaways sticking up, but it was neat enough. Neater than it would be if I’d just left it down.

  For some reason, whenever I had my hair down, it quickly became a mess. There was only one notable exception. Somehow, whenever I transformed, it was different. My hair behaved differently. All of me did.

  My eyes found the bracelet containing the shard that helps concentrate my powers clasped around my wrist, and a wistful sigh slipped from my lips. For perhaps the hundredth time over the last couple of months, I found myself wishing my hair always looked as good as it did when I transformed. That would make my life so much easier.

  It still confused me, though. Same with the rest of the girls. We have no idea why the meteor that gave us our powers seemed to care so much about aesthetics, but it did. Whenever we transformed, no matter how bad we looked beforehand, we were suddenly flawless.

  I couldn’t believe it the first time I saw a picture. My hair fell in perfect, glossy waves, refusing to tangle even after a brutal fight, and my makeup was always perfect. It even changed what we were wearing. I had no clue how it worked, but as soon as we transformed, we became dressed in strange short dresses made of a weird, almost Lycra material.

  It wasn’t actually Lycra, though. The scientists who’d been studying me and the rest of the girls discovered that shortly before coming to the conclusion that it was not of our world. It didn’t appear harmful, apparently, but I would have been more reassured if they’d sounded less uncertain.

  Still, I wasn’t complaining. I liked the dress, even if yellow wasn’t usually my colour. I would have preferred blue or pink, but Phoebe and Alice got those colours, and I was pretty sure we couldn’t change them even if we wanted to. The dress was still cute, though. Whenever I transformed, it made me feel like I was in a movie, but I didn’t just admire how it looked. I loved how practical it was. The dress was supportive, meaning I didn’t need to haul around a sports bra to change into every time, and there were built-in shorts.

  I was so grateful it had those, especially after the last fight we’d been called to. The dumb villain, whose name I couldn’t even remember, had used some weird device to immobilise me and had suspended me upside down. I think he was hoping I’d eventually lose consciousness, but that didn’t happen. I was stuck there until Issy managed to disconnect the machine from the power supply, though.

  If it weren’t for the shorts, photos of my pants would have been plastered all over the news and social media. How would I ever be able to leave my house again? It would have been awful knowing that pretty much everyone in the world had seen my underwear, and I wasn’t sure if I would have been able to face them again.

  A shudder slipped down my spine, but I ignored it as I marched into my room and pulled my wardrobe open. My lips twitched into a frown as I grabbed the first long-sleeved school shirt I saw and slipped into it. There was a brief moment where I was so tempted to throw it onto the floor and wear one with short sleeves instead, but I knew it wasn’t a good idea. It wouldn’t be worth it, regardless of how uncomfortable I always found long sleeves.

  If I had my arms uncovered, I was almost certain I’d leave school before lunch. The guilt radiating from every single person around me would be too much, and I wouldn’t be able to withstand it. I couldn’t do that. I needed to stick around until my biology class just after lunch, and that meant long sleeves.

  I glanced down at my arms, staring at them through the fabric. That was another thing that happened when we transformed. All scars and imperfections disappeared, and it had been strange at first to look down and not see any of the marks I was used to seeing on my body, but I’d quickly become grateful for it because the dresses had short, slightly puffed sleeves with a ribbon wrapped around the hem, forming a yellow bow on my biceps. They were small, though. Nothing like the one that appeared in Issy’s hair every time.

  The scars always reappeared when we turned back, but we usually did that in the privacy of our own homes or in the lab, so we had time to cover up again before the paparazzi had time to see the damage the fights left on our bodies. They always took longer to fade completely than I expected.

  At first, I generally had at least a few days between attacks where I didn’t need to worry about covering up, but that had changed. They were becoming more frequent. Much more frequent. Only three days had passed since the last one, and that was the longest we’d gone without something in a little while. It wasn’t going to last much longer, though. I knew that. I could feel something looming. It was building, gathering momentum, and it was only a matter of time until it struck.

  There never used to be any evil masterminds or monsters before. I mean, there were always powerful people who abused their positions, but it was never as bad as it had been recently. Perhaps they just covered it up more back then, but it felt like ever since we’d found that meteor in the forest during the school campout and suddenly gained our abilities, everything changed. The world changed, and weird things began to happen.

  New threats seemed to surface every single day. There were so many that I needed to be aware of and monitor, and they didn’t even tell us about all of them, but I knew some were other people who’d stumbled across an asteroid like me and the other girls. It did something to them, to their minds. They became cruel, ruthless and power-hungry. There were others too, though. Not every threat was caused by someone with abilities. Some were strange, mutated creatures and others were… aliens.

  I was pretty sure they were aliens, anyway. We’d fought against something a couple of weeks ago that I was almost certain was not ‘of this planet’, to use the phrasing the scientists often used. There were many signs that hinted at that. It appeared deflated, kind of like a blobfish, which made me think it had come from a planet with different pressure than ours.

  I’d seen pictures of those before. They looked completely normal when they were swimming around at their normal depths, but the moment they were brought to the surface, they appeared… melted. That was how the alien looked, but there was a more obvious sign that it wasn’t a human or an animal.

  The blood.

  A sigh slipped out of my skirt as I stepped into my skirt and pulled it up. When Livvie blasted it with her laser eyes, we just expected it to get thrown back. That was what normally happened, but instead, the thing exploded. I was closest to it at the time, and that meant I was coated with the thick, foul-smelling goo, which I suspected was its blood. It was bright blue, though.

  The memory caused another shudder to slip down my back. That stuff had been almost impossible to wash off, and they hadn’t let me shower at home, which probably didn’t help. The government agency that had been hastily thrown together to deal with everything made me shower in the lab so they could collect as much of the goop as possible.

  I hated it. Even though there was no one else in the room, and they’d promised me that the cameras were off, I was still uncomfortable. I’d check them myself and even covered the cameras with towels before getting unchanged, but it still felt weird. The pathetic water pressure didn’t help either. It came out at a trickle.

  My phone buzzed, and I snatched it up, reading the police report quickly. It was nothing for us to worry about, though. Just a stabbing, but it wasn’t too bad. No fatalities, luckily. Still, I felt the need to flick through the app quickly, just to make sure I hadn’t missed something.

  There was nothing there, luckily, and I slipped my phone into my skirt pocket before pulling on my jumper and grabbing my bag. Peering inside, I scanned the contents to make sure I had everything. It seemed like I did, though. My school-issued laptop was there, nestled amongst textbooks and bottles.

  I really needed to clear out my bag at some point. Half the bottles were empty, I was pretty sure, and I hadn’t checked the use-by date on the rest. Some of the protein shakes went off pretty quickly. I’d discovered that when I’d taken a swing of one and gotten a mouthful of curled lumps.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Nausea flared within me for a moment, but I pushed it aside as I started to reach for the blazer hanging from the wardrobe handle before freezing. I knew I should have worn it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It already felt like I was swaddled in so many layers, and the thought of adding another made me want to set the offending item on fire or drop it in the middle of the ocean. Not that I would, obviously. It could get caught around a fish and kill them, but I wanted to.

  I chewed the inside of my lip as I stared at it, unsure what to do. I hated wearing it, and the teachers had pretty much stopped caring whether I followed the dress code or not. Previously, I’d get detentions all the time for my top button not being done up or my skirt being half an inch too short, but that hadn’t happened in a while, so I was pretty sure they’d ignore the fact I wasn’t wearing my blazer. Or even carrying it.

  My lips pulled up into a smile, and I grinned at myself in the mirror as my fingers crept towards my wrist, making sure the bracelet was still there. Of course, it was. I never took it off, and I knew that, but it still made me feel better to check and know for certain.

  It was reassuring to feel it. I found myself reaching for it several times a day, but I couldn’t seem to stop. The shard of meteor inside helped focus our powers. It made the transformation easier and smoother, and it wasn’t that I couldn’t use my powers without it. I could, but it was messier.

  The scientists made us practice before, and none of us liked that. Phoebe especially seemed to despise it, and I completely understood why. Rather than just being able to fly without any real effort, even just getting into the air felt like I was trying to lift a truck, and the less said about my attempt to wield water, the better.

  I shook my head at myself in the mirror before turning and leaving my room. It took me a moment to realise just how quiet the house was, and a spark of fear ignited dully at the back of my mind as I came to a stop at the top of the stairs. Dad must already be at work, but my mom should have been there. She always was.

  Letting my eyes shut, I listened closely. The constant buzz of the electricity racing through the wires outside the front of the house was the only sound I could hear. It was so loud that it blocked out everything else unless I concentrated, but when I did…

  My mom was in the kitchen. The slightly too fast thumping gave her away. Her resting heartbeat was too high. It was quicker than mine or Dad’s, but still normal enough. Or at least, that was what the doctor I’d made her speak to had said. She attributed it to the sheer amount of tea Mom drank every day. Well, that and the lack of exercise, but my mom refused to do anything about that.

  She’s not overweight. That was her argument. She pointed out that she was thin, and according to her, that must mean that she was healthy. Mom had brandished that fact like a weapon, but the doctor had been unmoved and insisted she needed to start going for more walks and work on her cardio fitness, which Mom had ignored.

  My eyebrows pulled together. My mom didn’t drink tea. Not in real life, anyway. I’d seen her drink it a handful of times, but she normally tended towards coffee, and that realisation gave me a strange flutter of hope. Did it mean she was different in that world? If she had different preferences, surely it had to. But then, what was she like?

  I rooted through my memories, feeling a burst of gratitude that I was able to access them so easily. They’d been wide open, presenting themselves to me without hesitation or reluctance.

  My heart sank slowly. She was fairly similar in that world, I realised. Some of the memories I could see were almost identical to reality, and that meant my mom was just as snappy and cruel. She had changed a little since the incident with the meteor, though. She was a little better.

  That confused me, though. I could feel the uncertainty seeping in from the other version of me too. She had wondered why her mom was acting differently too, coming to the conclusion that it could just be that she liked how much attention I’d brought to her and the rest of the family. It gave her more chances to present herself as a perfect mother who supported her child endlessly, and she relished that.

  Or perhaps it was just that she felt more important. After all, she was the mother of one of the Shooting Stars—a fact she promptly informed everyone about when she met them for the first time. Her days were filled with driving me to research labs, police stations, government buildings, airports and countless other places. I could have just flown, but sometimes it was better for my mom to take me. Flying could be exhausting, and people always got a little panicked when they saw us flying around. They seemed to assume something bad was happening.

  Plus, Mom tried to insist she drive me. She seemed to enjoy that, savouring the fact that she was in control of one of the most powerful people in the world and could order me around. She wasn’t truly in control, though. I knew she didn’t hold any power over me, and if I wanted to, I could just fly away, but I didn’t. The illusion she’d crafted in her own head made her easier to cope with, and I didn’t want to destroy it just yet.

  The moment I started down the stairs, my mom began to move. I could hear her bustling around the kitchen, turning the kettle on to brew another pot of tea.

  “Good morning, Grace,” she called as I reached the bottom of the stairs. “How did you sleep?”

  “Pretty well, thanks,” I lied. “How about you?”

  I didn’t sleep particularly badly, anyway. Obviously, I’d woken up a few times throughout the night to check the police reports, but that wasn’t too bad. It was normal for me, and I always managed to fall asleep again before too long, so I didn’t mind.

  “Like a log,” Mom replied with a smile. “Are you having some breakfast?”

  The question made me hesitate, and my eyes flicked towards my buzzing phone. I was hungry, but Phoebe was almost there, and I didn’t want her to have to wait around for me. Inviting her in whilst I ate wasn’t really an option, though. Mom had always been kind of weird around Phoebe, but it had gotten worse since we’d gained our abilities.

  It was had to determine whether Mom was jealous of Phoebe for what she could do or if she was just awkward and didn’t really know how to talk to people. Both felt like viable options, though.

  “No, thank you. I’ll probably just grab something on the way to school,” I decided.

  Or maybe I’d just wait until lunch and eat a lot then. The idea was tempting, even though I knew it was a bad idea. Going to the shops would add an extra ten minutes to the journey at least, and that meant we might be late, but if I didn’t eat anything in the morning, I’d probably regret it.

  If the alarm sounded before lunch, I definitely would. I’d need to down one of the protein shakes from my bag and just pray it wasn’t gone off as we raced to wherever we were needed. It was either that or fight hungry, which always made it harder to concentrate.

  My mother’s expression turned disproving.

  “Make sure you do,” she said in a firm, chiding tone. “You need your strength, and I know those little uniforms you wear are tight, but—”

  “It’s not that,” I said, cutting her off. “I’m just in a rush, but I’ll grab something from Tescos or the canteen.”

  Mom continued to look at me, seemingly waiting for me to crack and break down, but I held firm. She’d already given me the lecture many times about how I needed to make sure I was eating enough because apparently the skimpy outfits we liked to wear, her words, were no excuse to starve myself. I didn’t, and the dresses weren’t a choice. We didn’t decide to wear them when we transformed. It was just something that happened.

  Sometimes, I was just running late or too tired to eat. That happened fairly often, especially after a particularly strenuous fight. All I could do was collapse into bed and sleep until morning. Or later. There were a few occasions where I’d slept almost a full day and then woke up ravenous and barely able to resist the urge to devour everything in the fridge and cupboards.

  Once, we’d stayed at Phoebe’s after a battle. When we eventually woke up, we were so hungry, but there just wasn’t enough food in the house, so we ordered pizzas. It had been so embarrassing when the takeaway had called up to make sure we’d not made a mistake and accidentally hit zero when ordering.

  It wasn’t a mistake, though. We truly had meant to order thirty pizzas between the five of us, and I was so glad Issy was there to take the call. She was so poised and composed as she explained that we truly would like that many pizzas delivered to the house at ten in the morning.

  The memory of the pizzas made my stomach rumble, and I watched Mom carefully, trying to work out if she’d heard it. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like she had. She nodded, her expression still suspicious, before speaking again.

  “Okay, good.”

  There was a slight pause, and I glanced at my phone again. Relief washed over me.

  “Phoebe’s here. I should get going,” I said before starting to move towards the door.

  I could feel my mom following behind me, and for a moment, I wished she’d go back to ignoring me most of the time like she did before. It was weird and suffocating how attentive she was being, and I didn’t like it. It felt unnatural and forced.

  “Well, she’s welcome to come in and have some breakfast too. That girl doesn’t eat enough either.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” I said uncomfortably as I grabbed my shoes from the rack. “We’ll probably have to rush to meet the others and swing by Melanie’s before going to the shops anyway.”

  Mom tutted loudly, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her place a hand on her heart. Irritation surged within me, and I refused to actually look at her as I slipped my shoes on.

  “That poor girl,” she sighed, her tone full of feigned sympathy. “How’s she doing now?”

  “She’s completely fine,” I said flatly, fed up with having the exact same conversation every time.

  I wasn’t sure why it annoyed me so much whenever Mom brought her up, but she did. It just felt… performative. She didn’t really care about Mel or how she was doing; she just asked because she felt like she should or because she wanted to hear the gory details, and I wasn’t willing to give them again.

  “Oh, that is good to hear,” Mom said brightly as I began to unbolt the front door. “And don’t forget you have a doctor’s appointment later.”

  I froze, my head dropping back as a groan slipped out of my mouth.

  “Crap! I did. Do you remember what time it is?” I asked.

  Mom sighed again, shaking her head.

  “Honestly! You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached!” she remarked, a slight smirk pulling at her lips. “It’s at four, so I’ll pick you up from the front of the school at half two. Make sure you’re not late.”

  That was after biology class, I realised. I’d be able to stay for the whole lesson, and then I could rush out to meet Mom.

  “Great. I will be,” I said as I pulled the door open, my eyes finding Phoebe.

  She lingered at the bottom of the drive. Her face lit up when she saw me, but she didn’t come any closer. I didn’t blame her. If I could avoid talking to my mom, I would too.

  “Good. And if you’re not going to make it, try to text me and let me know.”

  “I will,” I said, remembering how irritated she’d been last week.

  I had another doctor’s appointment, but we’d been called in to fight, and Mom hadn’t realised. Somehow, she’d missed the news reports, and she’d been waiting outside my school for twenty minutes before she tried to phone me. One of the handlers we’d left our bags with had picked up for me, and Mom was so annoyed I hadn’t been the one to answer or call her first, but how was I meant to do that when I was literally in the middle of a fight?

  “Okay,” she said as I stepped through the front door. “Have a good day, sweetie. Love you!”

  “Love you too.”