Unlucky Like Us (Like Us, #12)

by Krista Ritchie

Does that mean…? Did he tattoo me? “Are we friends?” I whisper. He looks to the door again. “I should go wait with everyone—” “Nonono,” I slur together in haste. “Please, stay. Please.” Donnelly hesitates, seriously conflicted. The kyber crystal—I spent my thirteenth birthday money on that necklace at Philly Comic-Con. It took me two hours to pick out the collectible, and it’s not something I would part with—but I did. I gave it to him. I must trust him.

His hand shields his eyes, then he rubs them in a type of angst I can’t make sense of. If I can’t place Donnelly beyond being Beckett’s bodyguard, then he must be part of the timespan I lost. He’s totally gone. Vanished from my mind.

“Sorry.” He clears his throat and drops his hand. “I know this has gotta be harder for you. You, um…” He looks right at me and takes a breath. “You’re turning twenty-one this month.” Twenty. One. “Holy shit,” I mutter, alarm coursing through me. “I’m missing three whole years.” What happened in those three years?

I calm down, but I blush a little at how he’s looking me over, as though he wants to scoop me up and carry me off to a place that’ll never harm me. Has anyone ever looked at me like that? Someone who’s not related to me?

The more my face heats, the more I realize this is real attraction roasting me. For another beat as his eyes sweep me, I study him like he’s a new specimen on my homeworld. Protective. He’s protective of me.

He shakes his head slowly and sees me examine the old defective watch. I flip the thing over and trace the scratched silver casing. The letter D is etched crudely. Donnelly. “Is this yours?” I ask, my heart skipping. “Yeah.” His eyes redden. He sits a little straighter. “I gave it to you.”

I’m holding a little baby dressed as a purple dragon. Lockheed. Only this baby…his eyes are so, so blue. I glance up at Donnelly. He looks over at me. “You alright?” His eyes. I glance down. The baby’s eyes. “Luna?” I eat air, until I manage to blurt out, “Do we have a baby?” “What?” He’s frozen-faced, only his eyes growing. Those blue eyes. “Do we have a baby together?”

He reaches for my phone, but I spin around the screen first and point to the lock screen photo. “That’s me. And that’s a baby that looks a whole lot like you.” It dawns on him.

but my stomach sours, thinking the baby still might be his. Why do I even care? “This is your baby?” I whisper. “No, he’s not.” “He…he has your eyes.” Am I wrong? “Yeah, he looks a bit like me…but he’s not biologically mine. That’s Ripley Hale.” Hale.

“As in…?” I can’t even finish. Tears well. Overwhelmed tears. Happy but also sad that I’ve forgotten this monumental moment in my brother’s life. The brother I’m the closest to. “Moffy has a son.” I wipe at my wet cheeks. “He has a husband and a son…when he said he’d never have either.” He sacrifices so much for others, I never thought he’d choose a family of his own. I’m so happy for my brother, but the mourning of this memory tries to swallow me whole.

“Were you there tonight?” I ask after blowing my nose. “Or…maybe it wasn’t tonight. Last night? Whenever I hit my head.” “Time’s a little fucked up for me too,” he admits. “I wasn’t there for the whole thing.” I see how he’s looking into me.

“What are we?” I whisper. It blows him back. He looks to the ceiling, then the wall, trying to hide his face in every direction. Maybe I didn’t ask that right. I blink a ton. “Are you…my boyfriend?” Donnelly runs a hand against his neck. “Not exactly.” He returns to my gaze. “We were hoping…but we didn’t get there yet.”

My voice tapers off at the way he’s staring at me. He’s offering the answers in his eyeballs. I want to scoop them out. Eat them up. Metaphorically. He’d probably think I was a total freak if I mentioned that out loud.

He wouldn't luna

“You aren’t a virgin, Luna,” he says, helping me out. When did I lose my virginity? I gasp for breath a little. How is this possible? Three years. I’m missing three years! He adds, “We had sex.” “We had sex?” Shock widens my eyes. I had sex. With Donnelly? Whoa. Whoaaa. I give him a short once-over.

Donnelly clarifies, “The morning before all of this”—his eyes flit around the hospital room, then back to me— “we had consensual sex. So whatever bodily fluids they found in that exam, they were from me.” I touch my eyes, real relief hitting me. “So I wasn’t…?” “You weren’t,” he says strongly.

My hands fly to my face, and I sink down to hide this breakdown beneath the blankets. Cocooned underneath them, I choke out, “I thought…I thought the worst.” “It didn’t happen,” he reassures and pats the blanket lump that is me. “That’s your forehead?” “My nose,” I sniff, and my lips rise a little just thinking about him patting me.

“Can you…can you come closer?” He rises off the stool but stops short. Distraught, he clamps a hand on his head. “Look, I’d already be on that bed, holding you—” “Then why aren’t you?” His face nearly cracks. “You don’t remember me.” “I want to.” I hate that I can’t see what I’ve already lived through. “I know,” he says. “I know.” He’s looking around the room. Don’t leave.

“Can we pretend for a second?” I ask him. “Please.” “Pretend that you know me?” I nod rapidly, and I already prepare my heart for him to say, that’s a bad idea. Or worse, that’s dumb. Instead, Donnelly is game.

“What’s wrong?” He feels me jerk. “You came inside me.” “Yeah?” He’s confused. “I’m not on birth control.” Off his expression, I see that Original Luna had that covered. “Or am I?” “You are, but we should probably make sure your doctor knows you might’ve missed taking the pill while you’ve been here.”

I realize, “You’re not allowed to be here. Farrow told you to…to wait?” It’s becoming easier recalling the talks I’ve had in the hospital. “Yeah, and there’s a No Fun Nurse out there who thinks I’m a piece of garbage that’s going to stink up your room. Joke’s on her because I smell great.”

I sniff his bare chest, a bit tentative knowing it’s a strange thing to do. Yet, I want to sniff Donnelly all over like a bloodhound. He watches with a rising smile. “Smell away, space babe.” My heart pitter-patters. He calls me space babe? “My nose is powerful,” I warn. “Good. I’ll triple-down. I smell amazing.” I smile. “Gutsy.” “Been taking risks all my life. Think I can handle this one.”

After untangling the wires, I tell him, “I like your scent.” Donnelly looks me over. “Doesn’t seem like you like it if it turns your smile upside-down.” “I just wish it triggered a memory.”

He nods. “I get it.” “You do?” “Sure,” he breathes. “You and I are the same. We keep our issues to ourselves because letting other people see ‘em makes them bigger than they have to be. Gives power to them. Makes them feel more unbeatable than they are. It’s easier to just keep that stuff here.”

“Luna,” he says, a knot in his throat. “I…” I shake my head on instinct. “No. Please.” I death-grip his hand. He’s not peeling me off him. If he were a murderer, he’d have handcuffs. He’d be in jail. And when I look at him, I know—I know he’s good. Why would I give my kyber crystal to someone bad? He is light. He is harmony. He is love. The Force is within him. I saw it. I knew it. I’ve just forgotten it somehow.

I trust Donnelly. “He. Can’t. Leave,” I repeat, almost out of breath. I’m working myself up, and her hatred of him volleys into concern for me. “Ditto,” he says to the nurse. “Can’t leave. Stuck here like glue.” His hand still tightly clings to mine. “I’m getting your doctor.” “Do that,” Donnelly tells her. “Go get my best friend, Becky.”

Best friend? I frown up at Donnelly. “You’re friends with Farrow?” Since when? While helping me back onto the bed, he tells me it’s not something they advertise all that much. “It’s mainly Farrow though,” he says. “Always acting like he’s a take-me-or-leave-me meh friend.” Donnelly smiles a little at this, like it’s an inside joke. “But the guy has never wanted me to leave. He’s made it easy for me to stay.”

“Farrow is a caring bean,” I say, letting out the last anxious breath. “Nah, he’s a kidney bean. Full of piss…” He trails off at my laughter, and his smile matches mine until the noise dies down.

I pick at my thumbnail. “I’m a really shitty intergalactic detective. I thought I had a baby.” I speak so softly; I doubt he hears. “I would’ve never guessed he was Moffy’s. He would’ve been last on my list.” “You’re not a shitty intergalactic detective,” he tells me, which jars me in surprise. “I’d hire you.” “For all your interstellar troubles?” “I’ve got plenty of those.”

“Everything can really be solved by discovering a perfectly mined mineral on an otherworldly planet. Then you’ve created super space medicine. Super space condoms. Super space lube.” “You sharing your super space products?” “Maybe.” I shrug. “For a fee.” He sucks in a breath. “Girl, take…” He doesn’t finish, his voice dropping off. “What?” I look over at him. He skims my features. “Take my money,” he mutters, sounding sad.

I blink back tears, but I swallow the lump. “I could use a partner in this detective case,” I say. “The Case of Luna’s Missing Memories.” He smiles, even if it’s a sorrowful one. “Sign me up.”

“Don’t leave,” I remind him, a little more whiney than I meant. “If I can help it, I won’t.”

Luna thinks I’m just some run-of-the-mill bodyguard. Background. Wallpaper. She thinks I’m no one. The girl I’ve given my heart and soul to doesn’t know she even has my heart and soul. But she’s alive. She’s awake. Can I really ask for more?

Farrow is as jarred by the uncharacteristic yelling from Luna as I am. This is a girl who speaks so quiet at times, I strain my ear hairs to catch the noises. Worry stampedes inside me.

“I promise I’m not leaving you if I can help it,” I tell her more strongly this time. “And I know how promises are made on your planet.” She catches her staggered breath. “How…how are they made on yours?” “Promises on my planet?” “Uh-huh.”

I think for a second. Our hands are still clasped, but I hook our pinkies. Leaning closer to her, I say, “Kiss your thumb the same time as me. Yeah?” Her lips twitch into a tiny smile, and together, with locked pinkies, we kiss our own thumbs. When I let go, she whispers, “That’s a very earthly promise.” I start to grin. “That’s ‘cause I’m from Earth, space babe.”

“She wants him to stay. She’s attached to him,” Farrow whispers to his colleague. “I don’t give a flying shit who thinks it’s a conflict of interest. I’m not pulling strings because of security or because he’s my friend. All I care about is that girl while I’m her doctor—” “You don’t need to convince me. I’m not Dr. Lewis,” Dr. Tack interjects. “I heard her yelling from the hall. I think it’s necessary for him to stay too, at least until we have a better sense of her PTA.”

Once Dr. Tack has left, Farrow sees the needle marks along the crease of my elbow and forearm. The bandage only hides the main puncture. Pure rage flashes across his face, and he catches my elbow for a better look, but I jerk out of his grip. “You’ve already got one patient. I’m fine.”

“Luna, the neuropsychologist is talking to your family right now. They’re coming to see you after.” She nods. “Donnelly’s staying?” “Yeah. He’ll be over in that chair when your family comes in.” He motions to a beige chair in the corner. “My name’s on it already,” I say lightly. She smiles, her cheeks a little flushed.

While Luna relaxes against the pillows, Farrow pulls me to the side to talk privately, and the first thing I say is, “She doesn’t remember anything about me.” “She’s missing about three years?” “You know?” He keeps his voice low. “Man, she thought Declan just retired.”

“I get that also means I can’t know about Lily…but how’s she doing?” Last I saw, he rushed into her room. “She’s okay. Lo is with her now.” “She’s out of the coma?” He just slides me a look that means, yes.

“You want a shirt?” “Nah.” I try to breathe in something lighter. “I like the chill on my nipples. Keeps them perked.” He rolls his eyes into a slight smile. “She’s watching you.” She is studying me from afar like I’m the most interesting patient and she’s the most inquisitive doctor. When I catch her, her cheeks go rosy. It’s cute. Gotta say that I’m glad I still have some positive effect on her.

Farrow’s brows rise. “She’s really watching you.” Yeah, she’s not being shy about it. “Don’t know why,” I whisper to Farrow. “She doesn’t know me.” “She knows you meant something to her. Clearly, that’s enough.”

“She fell in love with you for you,” Farrow says with the tilt of his head. “You don’t believe she could fall for you again?”

“You’re not going back in,” Farrow forces out. “And this isn’t even me trying to shake you. She needs you.” He motions with his head towards Luna. “She’s more important than whatever you’ll find sitting in jail. Which could be nothing.” I’d never disagree with that.

“Ryke and Dad are watching him.” “Not our aunts?” I would’ve thought they’d be the first in line after our mom. “Ripley likes when Ryke and Dad hold him more,” he explained,

“When he was really small, he used to cry a lot, except when he was in my arms. So I think they remind him of me.” I wanted to ask if Original Luna already knew this, but I just assumed she did.

“I feel better,” I told my dad. “How’s Mom?” It hurt even asking. His eyes were bloodshot, face unnaturally torn. My parents—their souls were intertwined. In my life, their love had always been one-of-a-kind. Stuff of legend and fanfiction, and the fact that it was my reality, that I got to be raised by two soul mates, was a treasure I wouldn’t trade for anything.