side, and when I hear the high, lilting laughter, I cringe.
“Endy! There you are. Why didn’t you wait for us? You know we hate walking alone.” Holly Matthews pouts. Her best friend Reina pouts right along with her. She’s also the one who bumped me out of the way with her hip, nearly knocking me down. Again.
I’m all but forgotten now that Holly and Reina are here. I slow my pace, falling back as I watch him walk away with them, a sharp ache slicing through my chest. Why does it hurt so much? Having crushes shouldn’t cause this much pain.
My heart shrivels in my chest when Endymion glances back at me with his brows drawn in. I sense he’s going to say something or maybe call out to me until Holly’s manicured hand forces his gaze back on her. Always her.
I spend the rest of the walk home gripping my mythology book and fighting back my tears with a sinking sensation in the pit of my gut. I’m a few blocks away from my street when I feel a presence behind me. The hairs at the nape of my neck stand at attention, and when I glance over my shoulder, my brows draw in, realizing no one’s there. Shaking the odd sensation off, I chalk it up to me being alone instead of me being followed.
As I round the corner of the block, I suddenly crash into something and let out a surprised shriek. A husky laugh follows, and my gaze treks up to the source. My eyes widen when I realize who it is.
“Thomas?”
He chuckles, his dark, inky locks hanging haphazardly in his face, as though he hasn’t had the time to brush it away in days. Thomas Wentworth has always been town royalty. Though it seems that title has never really sat well with him, so he became the town bad boy instead. I think he thrives on the attention and loves that the women in this town think he’s an unattainable miscreant. That is, until Endymion showed up in town. All the attention he basked under slowly went from him to End, and it’s obvious he doesn’t like it.
“Ah, always so formal. Always so sweet, aren’t you, Selene?”
I force a swallow. “I’m not always sweet.”
He smirks, clearly knowing better. “Coming home from school?” he asks, his gaze trailing up and down my body, taking in my outfit of choice. I adjust the strap of my backpack on my shoulder, feeling uncomfortable with his scrutiny.
“I am.” I make it a point to look at his clothes and quirk a brow. “Are you?”
Something glints in his eyes at my sass. He rubs his mouth absentmindedly, covering his grin. “Nah, I skipped today. Had some other things to do. You should try it sometime.”
“Try what?”
“Skipping school.” He steps closer to me. Close enough I can smell him and the distinct scent of marijuana. “With me.”
My gut clenches and not in a good way. “I can’t do that.”
He rolls his eyes as if I’m annoying him. “Fine, what about now? Instead of going home, come back to my place with me. We’ll hang out.”
Something about his proposition seems off. Everything about him right now seems off. Heck, we’re almost four years apart. I’m the last person he should be asking to hang out with him. I’m young. A nobody.
“You want to hang out with me at your place? To do what?” I ask dubiously.
He smiles then. It’s not soft or warm. It’s the opposite, actually. It has fear rippling down my spine. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”
I take a wobbly step away from him, glancing around the quiet neighborhood, searching for help. Conveniently for him, there’s no one to be found. “Sorry, but I can’t. My mom and dad are waiting for me.”
I try to hurry past him, but his hand shoots out, pressing up against my sternum to halt my progression. “Haven’t you ever lived a little, little moon?” he asks, stepping into me. I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and work to control my heavy breathing.
“Bye, Thomas.”
Rushing past him, I nearly run home as fear swirls in my gut. I force myself not to look back at him, not even once.
July 2011—Past
Today is my fifteenth birthday, and I finally feel like I’m at an age where I can keep up with Endymion and stay on his radar. I’ve spent years watching the girls and women in this town gush over him