THE OUTLIERS

The rain tapped steadily against the window as Ace Martins sat on his bed, guitar across his lap. The house was too quiet, and he hated it. His parents' yelling matches had filled the air just weeks ago, but now that his dad had moved out, the silence was deafening.

His fingers hovered over the strings, and he strummed a melancholy chord. The sound echoed strangely, as if the room had swallowed it and sent it back in pieces. Ace frowned, adjusting his headphones.

Suddenly, the faint outline of musical notes shimmered in front of him. They weren't on his guitar or his notebook—they floated midair, fading as quickly as they appeared. He ripped off his headphones, and the room fell silent again.

"Ace! Dinner's ready!" his mom called from downstairs, her voice strained.

He sighed and set the guitar aside. Whatever was happening to him, he wasn't ready to talk about it—especially not with her.

////////

Jessy Stone leaned against the counter in the cramped kitchen, watching her younger brother scribble in his homework book. Their mom was in the living room, folding laundry after her second shift.

Across the room, her dad sat in an old recliner, nursing a beer. The man had once been larger-than-life to Jessy, a construction worker with calloused hands and a booming laugh. But after the accident at the quarry a few years back, he wasn't the same. His limp was permanent, and the endless bills had sapped his humor.

"You've got it wrong," Jessy said to her brother, pointing to his math problem. "Here, let me show you."

She grabbed a pencil and quickly solved it, her hand moving with precision. Her brother stared, wide-eyed.

"How'd you do it that fast?"

Jessy shrugged. "Just practice."

Her dad looked up, squinting at her. "You always were good with your hands. Maybe you should be doing the work around here."

The words stung, but Jessy bit back a retort. Her eyes drifted to the stack of bills on the counter. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her, and for a moment, she felt something sharp in her chest—a flash of anger, of control slipping.

Her hand brushed against the knife block, and one knife slid out as if drawn to her. She caught it instinctively, spinning it between her fingers. It felt... right, almost like an extension of herself.

"Jessy?" Her brother's voice broke through her trance.

She quickly set the knife down. "Nothing. Just... tired."

//////

At the Price estate, Jimmy slouched in his gaming chair, the glow of the screen illuminating his face. He wasn't playing, though. Instead, he scrolled through his phone, ignoring the muffled shouting downstairs.

His parents were at it again. They argued constantly, but the staff never acknowledged it. His mom would storm into her room, and his dad would bark orders as if nothing had happened. The cycle never stopped.

A loud crash made him flinch.

"Not tonight," he muttered, shoving the chair back and standing. He slammed the door shut harder than he meant to, and the wood splintered where his hand hit. Jimmy froze, staring at the cracked frame.

"That's new," he muttered. But he didn't have time to think about it. The shouting was coming upstairs now.

He grabbed his keys and slipped out the window, leaving the mansion and its chaos behind.

//////

Alice Creed sat at the dinner table with her family, her head buried in a book while her little sister prattled on about her day. Across from her, her dad ate in silence, eyes fixed on his plate. Her mom sat at the head of the table, scrolling through her phone.

"Alice, stop reading at the table," her dad said gruffly.

She sighed and closed the book, though she kept her finger on the page. "I'm done eating."

"That's not the point," he replied, his tone sharper now.

Her mom interjected without looking up. "Can we not do this tonight? I've had a long day."

Dinner was the same every night—disconnected, distracted, and full of tension no one talked about. Alice excused herself early and went upstairs to her room, where she could finally breathe.

She powered on her laptop to finish her robotics project for the upcoming science fair. As she typed, her screen flickered. Static filled her ears, and for a moment, the words on the screen scrambled into something unrecognizable—symbols she couldn't explain.

"Not again," she whispered, gripping the desk. Her head felt light, and when she closed her eyes, she felt as though she were floating.

When she opened them again, everything was normal—her screen, her desk, her room. But her hands trembled as she reached for her notebook to jot down what she'd seen.

//////

That night, as each of them lay awake in their separate homes, the same notification pinged on their phones:

"Unexplained Lights at Tumberville Quarry: Locals Report Strange Phenomenon."

Ace stared at the screen, his headphones humming faintly again.

Jessy frowned, the knife spinning unconsciously between her fingers.

Jimmy smirked, his mind racing.

Alice adjusted her glasses, the symbols from earlier still vivid in her mind.

And though they didn't know it yet, the shadows of their lives were drawing them together.