Maximoff asks her, “Are you calling him your boyfriend now?” Luna goes motionless in the chair. “I, uh…” She’s avoiding my gaze. My pulse picks up speed, and I’m glad I’m not sitting or else my knees would be jostling under me. “No,” Luna shakes her head very slowly. “I barely know him.” Shit. Feels like I’m being buried alive, but the way her body reacts—chest tightening, breath shortening—I know she’s dumping dirt on herself too.
