No one had ever given me a sweet nickname before. Father called me a brat. A waste of space. A disease, a low life, a worthless nobody. Even my mom never referred to me by my first name. I wondered if maybe she’d forgotten it. But Reed had just called me Comet, and that was exactly what it’d felt like as the name soared past his lips. A bright, cosmic phenomenon lighting up my insides and colliding with my heart.
