Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
“Not shitty. It’s a cool bar. They’ve always got free salted nuts and they usually play nineties rock.” I grip the steering wheel loosely, then tighter as I drive out of the neighborhood. “But you’ve been there before.”
She elevates in her seat like I plucked a shooting star out of the sky for her. “When did we go there?”
My muscles cramp. “We didn’t go together.”
Luna sinks back down. “We didn’t?” Her brows pinch, as if she’s trying to grapple with that lost memory. “I went alone?”
I nod. “You only told me about it.”
She eases back against the seat, then after a minute of silence, she glances at me. “This is my favorite timeline—the one where you exist with me.”
It surges through my chest, and I try to look at her, but I need to lean out the window and punch the security code on the gate. When I’m back inside and stepping on the gas, I reach out and hold her hand.
Despite the pain we had to crawl through, all she had to endure with my family, I’d say the timeline where I get to see her smile and blush and hear the brightness of her laugh—that is, and will always be, my favorite.
Just got to make sure I don’t fuck it up.
6
LUNA HALE
A cosmic, unearthly happening. How else can I describe what’s occurring between me and Donnelly? Original Luna frequented Thirsty Goose in secret, and I unknowingly tried to do the exact same but I rewrote the script and included her boyfri…well, he wasn’t her boyfriend.
He’s not exactly mine either, but he was bound to be hers. And doesn’t that mean he’s on the same path to becoming mine too? My temple throbs in the start of a shrill headache, the more I unravel these twisted strands of my life and his life.
I try not to concentrate too hard anymore. Feeling is better than thinking. Giddier sentiments flap in my stomach while the Range Rover bumps along the highway. To Thirsty Goose we go. Past midnight. On a voyage unknown to everyone but us.
I feel closer to twenty-one than to eighteen for the first time since the hospital. Like my life isn’t defined by safety parameters and paparazzi and overprotective parents. Like I’m free to do what I want with who I want.
My smile softens on him, but he’s too focused on driving to see.
He switches lanes. “How are you handling the whole dead grandfather thing?” he asks. “Were you close?”
“We never talked about my grandparents?” I ask.
“Not really.” He casts a quick glance to me, then the road. “You wanna talk about them now?” He’s hoping I do, I think, but he’s being kind in giving me a lever to self-eject from serious topics.
I’m not aching to be a walled-off, guarded fortress anymore—and definitely not with him. I ball up the sleeves of my sweatshirt in my palms. “I wasn’t close to them. My grandfather would say hi and ask the typical questions: How’s school going? What subject do you like? It would end kinda around there.” I shrug. “He always seemed uncertain of us.”
Donnelly frowns. “What do you mean?”
I stare off at the road, illuminated by the headlights. “I saw how animated he became around Eliot and Tom and the other Cobalts. Like their futures were glowing embers, something to stoke, something that could burn bright.” I blink, staring at my lap. “But with me and my brothers and sister—it felt like our paths were too dark to even touch.” I look at him.
He’s trying his best to hold my gaze.
“We had more chances to become addicts than they did. It just seemed like my grandparents knew we could all fall apart, so they didn’t want to invest in us.” I face the dashboard again. “I can’t really be envious of Eliot and Tom. I think there’s something catastrophic about nurturing a tiny fire into a raging inferno.” I tilt my head to Donnelly. “It’s the ways of the stars: burn too bright and a supernova will explode.”
He tries to give me a small smile, but his lips flatline. “I get not wanting to bet on the losing horse and whatnot, but that seems premature. You were just kids.”
“Do you think your life would’ve been different if you had people that bet on you?”
“It woulda been easier, for sure,” he breathes. “Counting on yourself, always relying on just yourself…it’s all you know after a while, and anything different feels strange.” He’s sitting more upright, his muscles flexing as he lowers the heat. “And I want to be upfront with you.”
I sit more stiffy too, unable to really respond. I prepare for the worst, and my stomach already nosedives towards my toes.
He briefly seizes my gaze, but I inspect the kyber crystal around his neck. Then he says, “I didn’t always bet on the Hales either. Most of the time in security, I was rooting for the Cobalts.”