Page 19 of Jump on Three

“That’s very specific and graphic,” I observed.

“Just wait. I’ll be thinkin’ of all the horrible ways I want Felix Santos to die painfully. It’s gonna be fun…just as soon as I stop cryin’.” She picked up another nacho and stuffed it in her mouth as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “I hate him so much.”

The three of us chorused our shared disdain.

“Me too.”

“Fuck him.”

“Same.”

There wasn’t much to say after that. We all hated Felix Santos. If he didn’t recognize how special and wonderful Bella was, he deserved to be nothing but sludge.

I was more convinced than ever that I didn’t understand boys. If someone like Bella could be rejected, what the hell were boys looking for? They were a mystery to me, so it was a good thing I’d sworn them off for the foreseeable future.

I checked my phone before I went to sleep, squeaking when I found a text waiting for me.

Squatter: Sleep well, library mouse.

I quickly replied.

Me: I’m not a fan of the nickname.

Squatter: I thought it was cute.

Me: I’m not cute.

Squatter: I do not believe that.

Me: I don’t care, just don’t call me a mouse!

Squatter: I’ll think about it.

Me: Good night.

Squatter: Good night, angel.

I laid my phone down on my nightstand, smiling to myself. I shouldn’t have been. Bella was sad, and the squatter was annoying.

But he had called me angel, and that was nice.

Chapter Seven

Ivan

Evelyn was on the platform again, just as she’d been each morning for the past month. She always got close, and more than once, I’d thought she would jump, but she never did.

The beginning of the season was looming. If she didn’t jump with the team, they would notice, and the kids at Savage Academy were more ruthless than any I’d encountered. They wouldn’t take kindly to Evelyn not participating with them.

My laps were finished, so I strode across the pool deck, drying my face and head off with my towel. When I reached the ladder, I dropped the towel and climbed up.

Evelyn was waiting for me, arms crossed around her middle, her back to the pool. Her thick hair had begun to dry, curling around her face and tumbling down her shoulders in ebony waves. Eyes wide with caution, she watched me approach.

“Good morning, Evelyn.”

“Good morning, Ivan.”

“Will you fly today?”

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