Unlucky Like Us (Like Us, #12)

by Krista Ritchie

“Okay, so when did Original Luna fall in love with him?” “Original Luna?” Tom asks. “It’s the Luna you knew for the last three years. She’s gone. You have me now.” They look semi-freaked—Tom, more so—but if anyone will roll with the oddities of my mind, it’s them. “Who are we speaking to now?” Eliot questions, flipping a lighter open and closed. “Variant Luna, I guess.” “I love it,” Eliot decrees, making me grin.

“You didn’t tell us anything about how you two got together or what he means to you. And we didn’t care that you hadn’t yet, Luna. But it matters now because…” He looks away in excruciating regret. Because they can’t help me. Because they don’t know everything about me.

“Life’s not fair,” Eliot says. “We accept the hands we’re dealt.” That is very diplomatic of the Eliot Cobalt that I know. He sees my surprise and flips the lighter open. “I’m trying my best not to burn everything down.” Says the guy with a flame beside his face. “Yeah, well I’m fucking tired of Luna getting the shittiest hand,” Tom decrees and points Stormbreaker at his brother now.

He’s selling out shows while The Carraways are struggling to finish our album because no drummer is good enough.” “Good enough for you,” Eliot rephrases. “Same difference, dude,” Tom breathes out. “What’s not good enough for you is not good enough for me,” Eliot decrees. “Thank you,” Tom sighs. “If only Charlie agreed. He said I’m being more obstinate than him, and that is just…” He cringes. “Not true.” “Unfounded,” Eliot agrees.

My Cobalt brethren telling Luna about her dog-shit ex-boyfriend is back-stabby, traitorous behavior. Something no friend or Musketeer would do. But like I’ve known, they’re her friends, her Musketeers. Not mine. So they’re true to Luna, and I can’t fault ‘em, especially if she asked outright.

On top of that beautifully steep mountain I haven’t tried to climb, my dad is gonna be on their hit list. It’s a long list though, considering those two eat, sleep, dance, and sing vengeance.

“I didn’t like him,” Gabe Montgomery states, his thick biceps crossed over thicker pecs. Oscar shuts the book. “When’s the last time you’ve heard Montgomery hate someone?” Not sure. “Why are we trusting Monty’s intuition over Frog’s?” I ask Oscar. Gabe adds, “He smelled like oat milk.” I grin, nearing a laugh, and Oscar mutters, “That big buffoon.” “Team Froggy.” I make finger horns.

“Because I made a promise to her brother to be on his detail. Not hers. Because everything I’ve ever done for security regarding my family has been so I can be with Luna and not as her bodyguard—and I know I haven’t told you all that, but I’m telling you now. It’s about her.” It’s always been about her. I love her. I’m in love with her, I almost profess like I’m gripping to the future that misfortune keeps trying to rip out of my hands, but I stop short of saying those fragile, vulnerable words. Not letting anyone touch ‘em but me.

“I had sex with Luna before the…incident or whatever you’re all calling it. Sperm matched me.” I make a loose rock on gesture with both hands. Akara has a palm over his face, stressed to the max. “Donnelly.”

“You two just click,” Frog says simply. “Everyone who’s anyone can see it and believe it.” My friends are smiling, which are all of SFO in case that’s not clear. More than friends, actually. Family. Best I’ve ever had.

“Quinn,” Akara says, “you’re being transferred. You’ve already been Luna’s bodyguard, and she needs you now.” She needs you. A pit wedges in my ribs, but I try not to take his words to heart. She needs me too. Just in a distinctive, unique, unduplicated way. Just like I’ve needed Farrow and Oscar and not only her. Still, I want to be the most necessary, vital thing to Luna’s life.

“When I was younger, I used to wish everyone would just stop.” His reddened eyes are off to the side. “Stop goddamn worrying about me. It was…suffocating. Even the days where I wasn’t fucking up, they were a reminder that I could. That I have. Then, as I got older, I wondered what it would’ve been like to never have people looking out for me, and I know I wouldn’t be here.” He shakes his head once. “It would’ve been easier to grab a bottle. My brother went to the ends of the earth to stop me from drinking myself into oblivion. But he shouldn’t have had to do that. There are people, family, friends, who spend their lives fighting for their loved ones. Worrying about them. And I can say that sometimes their worry isn’t enough. All it does is make me want to drown it out.” He pauses, still staring off. “This disease is won and lost with me, but I can’t tell anyone not to worry, and if I do, it’s a lie—because I’m just as afraid of the moment they stop.”

“I don’t know how you got through that night. With both of them in the hospital…” I remember how he’d still been holding his shit together in the visitors’ room. How he’d even stood up to comfort me. “I kept rereading her texts,” Lo says, sniffing hard and tapping his phone. “Lily text you something?” I ask. “My daughter. Luna. That night, she texted…thanks for keeping Donnelly’s story from that night on Halloween safe and thanks for protecting him.” He chokes up, but it’s choking me up too. His hand is against his mouth before he reads, “I love you. To Thebula and back again.” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat to say, “We joked about tacos.” He sniffs, nodding. “That’s what kept me together all night.” He wipes the corners of his watery eyes fast. “Then I heard you slept with her and strangling you seemed more satisfying than a bottle of Macallan.” Damn. “Glad I could help your sobriety.”

“As fun as this catch-up has been, you never call me to say hi, so what’s going on?” “You worried about me?” I wonder, seeing concern cinch his brows. “You’re attached to my daughter, so by proxy, yeah, sure.” I’ll take it.

“You still didn’t wait for her when you told me you would. Don’t press your luck, Paul.” I want to laugh. Because all I’ve done is try my hand at luck, especially with his daughter. Hasn’t always turned out in our favor, but I’d rather keep taking my chances. At least then, I’m still racing towards her.

Luna is patting her sandwich. “Love pats add extra flavor.” I grin, licking mayo off my finger. “Is that so?” I rinse the knife off in the sink. “Did the sandwich tell you?” “I’m not proficient in the sandwich language, unfortunately, but love pats tend to bring joy, not misery.” “You’re telling me,” I wipe my hands on a dish rag, and I pat my finished sandwich a couple times.

I pat her cheek lightly before cupping her face. “How’d that feel?” I breathe her in. “Loving.”

“Wanna watch Bass?” I ask. “We could start over.” We barely got through episode one. She nods repeatedly, and we break away to grab our sandwiches—but pieces of me always feel entwined and bound to Luna, no matter how far apart we truly are.

“Ohhh whaaa, no way.” I sit up off Donnelly. “No freaking way.” I gape at the television screen. “Nowaynowaynoway.” My hands fly to my head. “Strider is Callie’s son. That’s his mom…” I was shipping a mother and a son! “What the…shit.” I sink backwards, then look over. Donnelly is grinning. “It’s not funny. I feel like crying.” I cringe and shiver, all gross inside. He wraps an arm around me. “I’m not smiling ‘cause I’m happy your ship sunk.” “No, it burned to a crisp,” I mutter, still not understanding his reaction. “Why do you look happy?” “‘Cause you were spoiled the first time you watched the finale. It’s cool seeing you watch it without knowing what’s gonna happen.” I smile. “I got a redo.” “Yeah, you did.” “Amnesia perk,” I sing-song. “There aren’t many.”

“Would you have changed it, if you could’ve?” “Maybe not.” He looks up at me. “Everything I’ve ever been through has led me to better things. If I changed a part, maybe I wouldn’t have found you.”

“Slow,” I nod. “I agreed to slow and I can do slow.” I can try, at least. “You’re just a very irresistible human.” His lip rises. “Trust me, I feel the same about you, space babe.”

I star-fish the couch, a gooey mess of giddy feelings. I look to my furry Newfie. “Did Original Luna feel like she flew a billion lightyears in his presence too?” Orion perks up, as though I said, time for bed. “I’ll take that as a yes,” I smile.

Question of the Day: How often does Luna snoop through my planner? Is she reading this now?

“You know something about the cake that we don’t?” Moffy asks me, eyeing the mushy mound on my plate. “It could be sentient,” I mutter. “Yeah, I don’t think it’ll grow hooves and attack us,” Xander says,

Moffy feigns confusion. “Huh, that’s weird. I thought we bought murderfetti cake.” I smile. Xander laughs and shakes his head at Moffy. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you had the dad jokes before Ripley or not.” I would know this better than anyone. “He did.”

“Hey,” Ben Cobalt smiles, a little out of breath like he jogged here from Lane 2. He’s wearing a ringer tee that says love the earth. “We go to Penn together.” He’s talking to Harriet, but as Ben glances to me, I sense he’s doing his best to aid me in my memory-less quest for answers. He’s coming in with the save.

“This seat taken?” Donnelly asks, hands on the swivel chair beside me. My breath catches, and I check the shoe closet. My therapist has vanished. Is he allowed to be in my presence? The question drifts, thoughts stolen at the sight of his black sparkly shirt and matching pants. His purple belt kinda resembles a nebula. Something about the outfit puzzles me, a tickle against my brain.

Using the fork, he molds the cake into a shape. I sense there’s more. “That’s it?” “Don’t think I’m supposed to tell you the rest.” He spins the cake to me. He formed a realistic looking alien head in two seconds. “Watcha think?” “Needs antennas.” He grins, then draws antennas in the green frosting with his finger. Afterwards, he swipes frosting down my nose, then my cheek. I smile back. “The blood of my people.” He licks the frosting off my face, cupping my jaw. “Tastes unearthly.” He places a kiss back on my cheek, and my whole body is singing.

“Maybe it’s a bad idea to be public with my family and security. This would be easier if no one was involved.” No opinions. No naysayers. “It’s too late now,” Donnelly says casually, sucking frosting off his thumb. “We’re in it to win it, sad alien.” “Winning isn’t really in a Hale’s DNA,” I remind him in a quiet voice. I’ve heard it enough from my peers growing up. “You picked the wrong girl if you’re hoping to win anything.” He eyes my bobbling silver antenna headband. “Good thing I’m with the right alien then.”

Being stuck in slo-mo with Donnelly might not be my favorite setting. I’m really struggling not pushing a super speed button just to experience more. But that’s the problem. He’s ensuring I want to experience more with him. I nod, understanding.

“She still killing it?” I joke since she’s been losing pretty badly. “With a score of two,” Farrow says, popping bubblegum. “Two!” Ripley holds up two fingers. “Uh-oh, we got a mathematician on our hands,” I say. “Uh-oh?” Ripley frowns up at Farrow, since he’s on his lap. I laugh, and Farrow shakes his head at me with a rising grin. Maximoff smiles over at his husband and son. “You counted correctly, Rip.” Farrow tells his kid, “Your Uncle Donnelly is just teasing you.”

“Gutter ball,” Luna sing-songs on her way over. “Farrow is up.” While he heads for the lane, Luna swivels on a chair, sipping a cranberry vodka. Adorable in her alien waitress costume, and I’ve imagined coming inside her way too many times tonight. Hell, I’ve imagined picking her up and fucking her on the lane. Thank God her therapist can’t read my mind.

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.

She might not be my girlfriend yet. We haven’t labeled anything, but she isn’t someone I ever want to lose. Not in my lifetime.

“They all have the right idea, you know,” she whispers. “It’s dangerous to be around me. I’m not saying the right things anymore.” I tip my head towards Luna, catching her gaze. “Maybe I like a little danger.” She gives me a look. “Really? Because it didn’t hurt when I said I barely knew you?” I don’t break her gaze. “Not gonna lie to you. It hurt like hell.” Her face shatters, and she blinks back tears. “I’m horrible. Horrible. Horrible,” she mutters.

I barely pick up her whispered words, “It hurt me too.” “I know,” I breathe. “How?” “It was written on your face.”

I stop myself from holding her. She barely knows you. She knows me. She’s looking at me like she sees all of me, and I can’t explain how she could.

“I feel very protective over you and me,” she murmurs, and I try not to tense hearing her say so...

“Whatever we were or are, it’s always been this fragile fucking thing. Anyone else got their hands on it, anyone else knew about it, it felt like it’d just shatter. I dunno. We’re mighty, you and me, but fuck we’re unlucky. And I think we always knew that.”

“Can I hug you?” My voice breaks again. She’s already wrapping her bony arms around my frame. “I want to hug you. I’ve been waiting for this moment.” Her hugs are magical, and I hold tighter around my mom, burying my face against her hair.

“You really don’t remember that night?” I shake my head slowly, then faster. “Not a single second.” She inhales deeply, a breath of relief. Her shoulders relax like weight levitates off her. “I’m so glad, Luna. So, so glad.” Tears prick her eyes. “I’m not,” I croak. My gaze burns. “You shouldn’t have to carry that night on your own. I was with you, Mom.” “I want to,” she whispers, touching my cheek softly. “I’m happy to. I’m your mom. That’s what moms do.” She nods resolutely.

I am so so so so so proud of Lily 🥺😭

“Wait, wait,” I say aloud, sitting upward. My heart races at the strangest turn of events. “This isn’t right. This isn’t supposed to happen.” I keep reading. Page after page after page. I bite my thumbnail to the bed, my heart catapulting and plummeting as Solana is wooed by Vaughn, the human. Ever since I was little, Zarek was always Solana’s greatest love. Soul-matched. Together throughout all eternity to rule the two mightiest planets in the known solar system.

I can’t believe I’m rooting for them to kiss. I wrote their romance with a deep, cavernous longing, but it is so, so effervescent. Solana is lighter and freer with him. Her worries melt into mesmerizing moments, and I need more.

“Did she—I mean, did I ever explain why Solana would distance herself from Zarek?” “We talked grammar. Your story was yours. You didn’t bounce ideas off of me or brainstorm with me in the dead of the night.” I’m quiet. He pauses, then tells me, “It’s called Human Him, Luna. Human. Zarek isn’t the human.”

“I know, I know,” I say quickly, my pulse in my throat. “I just didn’t plan for her to get with the human. He was an antagonist, not the love interest.” Charlie lets out a long sigh. “And why do you think you changed the story?”

For the first time, I notice a stick figure tattoo by his ribs and a creepy skeleton head inked on his inner forearm. He is new to me. But he wasn’t so new to her.

“You’ve been waiting for me to talk to you?” “I didn’t wanna push you in any direction. You’ve gotta figure this out on your own, Luna, and I…” He looks away, his eyes reddening. “I don’t wanna hurt you. I can’t hurt you.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “So if time away from me is what you need, then I can give you space.”