her. I didn’t know what his face looked like yet, but that tug deep in my gut, coiling and tingling, told me he was handsome. And when he spoke for the first time? My heart’s normal pitter-patter turned irregular. I don’t think it’s ever beaten the same again—not since that day. He had a voice you could feel roll through your body in an exhilarating, otherworldly sensation. My eleven-year-old brain short-circuited, and all my attention was focused on the guy standing right in front of me. I willed him to turn and feel my presence. Anything to get a look at his face without feeling like a creeper.
I grasped onto the crescent moon around my neck for courage. When I was nervous or needed an extra push, the necklace always gave me that extra something. It was a gift from my parents almost two years ago. For as long as I could remember, I’d been obsessed with the moon, and my parents? Well, it was no secret they indulged me in my obsession. The necklace was silver and dainty, a crescent moon hanging from a 3D moon with real meteorite dust inside. Strangely, since the first time I put the necklace on, it’d given me strength when I normally had none. A talisman of sorts.
I’d always been the painstakingly shy and quiet wallflower who blended into the shadows, unseen and thoroughly unnoticed. I had a hard time speaking up for myself and an even tougher time separating my need to be liked by everyone.
“Selene, sweetie, what are you doing over there?” Mrs. Cahill asked loudly, finally taking notice of me. Her attention caused him to turn, and a ragged gasp ripped from my chest when I got a full look at him. He was quite literally the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen. I didn’t think any boys my age were cute. There were a few celebrities I had crushes on, but no one, and I mean no one, compared to him.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in the back of my throat. He had defined cheekbones and a strong jaw that clenched as he took me in. He seemed angry or irritated to be standing there in the bakery section. As if this was the last place he wanted to be. But what catapulted him beyond any good-looking guy I’d ever seen before were his light green eyes flecked with white, or maybe gray. Bright, like the color of summertime moss. I had never seen such a color in someone’s eyes before. They were a kaleidoscope of greens.
I could feel the heat of his gaze on my skin, and when his eyes clashed with mine, I forced a swallow that felt so overworked, I feared I might’ve swallowed my own tongue. There was a hardness in the depths of his eyes that softened when he saw me standing there. Shaking my head slightly, I hoped it would clear my thoughts as though I was seeing things. It wasn’t possible that this guy was this handsome. Surely, he’d be famous if that was the case. He’d have his own spread in Seventeen or J-14. I blinked rapidly when his plump lips twisted into a soft smile as he regarded me.
“Hey, kid.”
Two words were all he spoke, but they crushed me, nonetheless. The dart of his words was poisonous, burning as it spread. I didn’t want to be a kid. I didn’t want him to see me as a child. I wanted him to think I was as beautiful as I thought he was. Because that was exactly what I thought of this boy standing before me. He was damn beautiful.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat and risked a couple of steps toward him and Janet at the glass display. She was staring at me oddly, eyeing me with narrowed and scrutinizing eyes. This was the first of many here in Dunsmuir who would start catching onto my crush.
Not wanting to look like a weirdo anymore, I inhaled a deep, stabilizing breath and closed the distance, coaching myself on how to act naturally as I stood beside this handsome guy, trying not to fidget.
“Where’s your dad, Selene? Are you guys out shopping for your birthday treat?” She smiled, already knowing our routine.
Janet had been the baker here since this place opened. Each year, she rang us up and made sure the cake I chose always had my name and a moon drawn with pink