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She nods, but her hand shields her mouth. Even so, she’s so fucking pretty. Her light-brown hair hangs in cute scraggily strands and frames her round face. She stuck green star stickers in the corner of her eye, and her lashes are shaded with a cool purple mascara.
“Consequences of being a ride-or-die, I know it well.”
“You never know what powers you might get by swallowing.” I smirk. “You seem pretty powerful to me already.” She grins into a gulp of water. “I am a swallower.” I make a rock on gesture.
Ian scowls. Vance and Novak narrow devil eyes on to me. I’ve seen spoiled ham hoagies that are scarier.
“Great, I love excess,” Eliot says, still hunting for answers. “I love complicated, messy. Where’s the fun in safety?” “No fun at all,” Tom agrees and waves Donnelly on. “As you were.”
Donnelly scratches the side of his jaw, and I try not to imagine running my palms over his stubble. The way he exists is sexy. It’s the confidence in himself, in who he is. His biceps look cut and sculpted in his tight black AC/DC shirt, and I have trouble not picturing those arms snug around me. Sometimes, in quiet moments, I pretend we’re a rare species that needs physical touch from a soul mate to survive. Connecting and reconnecting forever. And recently, I’ve been dying, starved, and longing for Donnelly to run his hands all over me.
“Donnelly tell them,” I say. “It’s just security stuff.” He’s still locked on to Beckett as he says, “It’s always been about her. At least for me, it has been.” My heart suddenly swells, his honesty singing inside of me. Is this really happening?
Just like that, the knife returns to my heart. It seems like too many people in my life are vying to be Donnelly’s number one thought, his number one concern, and I understand the yearning. He has this rare ability to make you feel like the greatest, most powerful version of yourself. Being around him amplifies all the pieces I love: the weird, unashamed, daring, happiest side of me. Being without him is just lonely.
“You know what the most shocking part is?” “That you didn’t see it sooner?” I guess. “No, deception is strong with you. It’s that you asked for permission first.”
“From her father. Why?” “Shits and giggles,” Donnelly says, fitting the cigarette between his lips. “I’d only be shitting myself confronting Uncle Loren with that,” Tom notes. “I’d just be giggling,” Eliot says.
“Lo knows I can’t have my family thinking I’m in love with her.” “Love?” Eliot’s grin has exploded. He buttons his slacks with an amused, delighted laugh. Tom is grinning now too. He told my best friends he’s trying to date me. That he loves me. It’s sinking in, and I feel my smile mushroom. Donnelly shares the grin. “You think I would do all of this just for a girl I sort of like?” “This is beautiful,” Eliot says, “and tragic all at the same time.”
I start to smile as I let him hold my hand while he drives. Really, we press fingertips to fingertips, and slowly, his fingertips glide down my palm with featherlight affectionate touch. It’s electric, tingling my veins, and my breath catches in the quiet.
“You really think it’s possible to outrun curses and bad luck?” On Halloween, after he confessed he coined the Hale curse phrase, he told me that it was. “Yeah,” he nods. “I’m not gonna let it catch us.”
despite fatigue and the outings with his dad and the article, he’s still so…light. Not necessarily weightless, but more so luminous.
I look over and up at Donnelly. His chestnut hair is pushed out of his face, a silver hoop in his pierced ear today, and as his gaze slips down me, his lips rise like I’m the prettiest, weirdest sight he’s ever seen.
I want him to kiss me. If it’s wrong, then I want to do the worst, wrong things with Donnelly.
Life doesn’t have to be that serious all the time, and sometimes it’s fun to pretend other species exist. Like you.
“Your worry looks angry,” I say. His blue eyes rest gently on mine. “‘Cause you’re looking at jealousy.”
Flush ascends my neck. Oh. I give him a once-over, realizing jealousy is hot on Donnelly, the attractive type of hot. I realize how badly I just want him to want me, but the yearning is even deeper than that. I want him to consume me, grab me, take me, make me his forever.
“You’ve just been beat down one too many times. Everyone has a breaking point.”
“The way you look at me, Luna…” He seems overwhelmed. “How am I looking at you?” I’m trapped in his orbit, not wanting to be set loose. “I’m the hero of your story.”
“I don’t know if anyone has ever placed me there, but one of the things I’m most scared of is disappointing you.”
“I wanna be your hero—in every story you’ll ever write about me and you. I want that, but the honest truth is that…I’m not built to withstand it all. And I don’t know my exact breaking point yet, ‘cause I don’t really know how much I can take. I just know it’s a lot.”
“Anger, hate, pain—it disturbs the balance of all natural things,” I tell him. “In Star Wars, it disturbs the Force, and the Sith learned to focus solely on these negative emotions. They empower themselves through the dark side. It’s tumorous. Like a disease on the world.” I speak softer. “I know people have all different sorts of theories and feelings about the balance of the Force, but I believe light and dark always coexist in nature. And it’s Jedi who realize choosing light is what maintains the balance, the peace and harmony. So when I look at you, I see someone who embodies the light
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He sees the hole chiseled at the top of the plastic crystal and immediately fishes the chain through it. His soulful gaze returns to mine while he loops the long chain around his neck. The crystal reaches his sternum, and he tucks it protectively underneath his shirt. And then he suddenly unclips his black wristwatch. “I don’t have much, but I wanna give you something too.” He leans further over the middle console, to reach me, and as his fingers close over my wrist, adrenaline seeps through my veins. I feel dizzy. Transported to another dimension. “It’s engraved and everything,” he says.
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“To remind you of our future together,” Donnelly says. “Time is irrelevant when I’m always right here.”
“You can’t disappointment me, you know.” “If I fail—” “Heroes fail all the time. It won’t change how I see you, Donnelly.”
That’s his story, and this…this isn’t just my story, like you said. I hope it can be our story.”
“In the Star Wars mythos, you’d be a Jedi Knight, but in our universe, you’re something else.” “What am I?” His lips are so close to mine. “Some noble hero of another galaxy? An alien warrior? Or well-traveled bounty hunter?” “You’re human,” I whisper. “You’re my human hero. And there is no one stronger than you.”
He careens over, still kissing me like he’s removing all the hurt, all the pain. Like each kiss is made to cure me, and I melt against the power of his passion and the heat of his skin.
Today’s Focus: stop thinking about fucking your friend Luna. (I’m deadass now.)
To Do: Ice cold shower. Need it asap. See which detail I’m assigned to today. Wallow. Jk. Wallowing is for weeping willows. I’m a mf-ing oak tree. Sturdy af. Dinner with Xander’s dad at his Halway Comics office. Just him. Feels sus.
Water: Stop thirsting after Luna. Get a fuckin’ grip of your dick. ALSO! Drink actual water.
Question of the Day: Is Loren Hale a human lie detector by proxy of Connor Cobalt? How many broken promises are too many? Why is thinking about Qunnie’s belly button lint the best boner killer?
“Careful what you wish for. I could so easily devour every last inch of you.” I clasp her cheek. “Then what’ll be left?” “Us,” she murmurs. “You with me. For longer than a minute. Longer than a moment.”
There’s a part of me that believes if I wanted, I could get away with murder. It’s the part that I’m sure annoys the shit outta him. It’s the part that I should learn to shut off, but I’m selling my soul every second I’m back in South Philly with my dad, so the least I could do is return to my soul by being with Luna. Give myself that. And I do.
“You’re not dying anymore, Luna,” I promise, my voice hoarse with need. “You’re gonna survive with me.”
I feel so connected to this girl. It’s unreal.
Luna Hale belongs to me. I’ve never wanted to claim her as badly as I do now.
Cause you don’t deserve to be in pain while I deal with my family, and that’s what being physically away from each other is starting to be.” Painful.
“Charlie is like a rogue space explorer,” I say. “The times where he’s not provoking Moffy, I think he’s kinda cool.” “He’s a space dick,”
Dread is a funny feeling. Funny in that it drops your whole stomach like you’re on a theme park ride. I usually love the free-fall ones, but not so much this time.
Her gaze falls to the black analog watch on my wrist. “That is not yours.” I tuck my wrist protectively to my chest. “Has anyone ever told you you’re really perceptive?” “Just my Auntie Mint.” Akara’s mom. Her smile fades since her aunt passed away recently, but before I can reply, she speaks. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on between you and Donnelly, aka Wonder Bread”—I heard she found out about our Fanaticon usernames—“but he better know I am still your Number One Protector.” I smile. “Always.”
“It was just a week of total seclusion, really.” “For you, that might as well be a millennium. You’re my child who’s either traveling by imagination or by foot.”
She hasn’t seen beyond episode one because she feared it’d get cancelled, and she didn’t want to fall too hard for something that wouldn’t last. Maybe I’m more destructive that way. Falling for things that might have short expiration dates.
“Call Monroe.” She speaks to the car’s Bluetooth hookup. “Calling Mom,” the automated voice replies. “Nononono!” Mom freaks as the phone rings over the car’s speakers. “Hang up!” I push the red button on the screen. It clicks off before Grandmother Calloway could answer.
It’s a stupid idea, maybe, to not run away and save myself. But it’s instinct to want to be with the ones you love, the ones who make you feel safe.
That I’d be glad for you.” He starts clapping. I tilt my head and watch, smiling. “Appreciate the applause. You can send me a fruit basket next.” “I’ll do that,” he says dryly. “Right to 2149 You’re Not Funny Lane.” “Sending the basket to yourself?” I nearly laugh. His eyes are knives. “Oh that’s right. Your address is 460 You’re Never Dating My Daughter Avenue.”
But I can’t…I can’t. I’m security first. Her friend second. Her boyfriend not at all.
Pain is relentless in my body. Luna. Luna. She’s not here.
