Two hundred and one.
Wiping my hands on my jeans, I glance over my shoulder down the alleyway as the sun starts to rise, casting orange hues across the dark sky. The birds chirp with excitement for the new day.
So much for loose ends.
Chapter Ten
FINLEY
MONDAY, OCTOBER 9TH, 2023
Staring up at my bedroom ceiling, I wince as I blink slowly, my eyes burning. I’d fallen asleep for maybe two hours after I cried myself to sleep, still soaked from the rain, but I woke up when I heard Luca close the door on his way out early this morning. I desperately need a shower—I feel icky. Every part of my body feels gross, but I know it will take more than a hot shower to fix that. The warmth of my bed is my only source of comfort, so I don’t have much motivation to get up.
And I’m stalling.
Stalling because the mere thought of seeing Luca in class later, having to look him in the eye after last night, has the tears welling up in my eyes again. My stomach churns uneasily just thinking ofwhyhe had to leave so early this morning. What he needed totake care of.
Of course, I want to believe he’s not dangerous, but then I remember the gun. The man touching me. The dirt. He may have saved me from something much worse, but he may have also killed that guy.
Don’t think about it.
Whining softly, I pull myself from my bed, peeling off my clothes leisurely on my way toward the bathroom. Combing my fingers through my tangled hair, I twist the shower knob until hot water is filling the bathroom with steam.
I’m too tired to deal with my brain, too tired for the quiz I know awaits me in British Lit, and too tired to face him. The thought of using what energy I have to respond to him, even in the smallest of talk, makes me want to curl up at the bottom of this tub. My energy has to go to the quiz, and I’m not even super confident aboutthat.
It’ll be the worst Monday in the history of Mondays. The worst Monday of my entire existence.
I can’t remember the last time I kept up with my planner, or the last time I felt organized or prepared. My eyes water at that, and I shove my face beneath the shower head to wash any stray tears away.
The hot water feels amazing on my skin as I close my eyes and let my head fall back, rubbing the tense muscles in my neck. I want to stay here for the rest of the day, basking in the steam and scent of my lavender body wash, any traces of last night swirling down the drain. It’s peaceful here.
As soon as I step out of the tranquil bubble, my worries hit me like a freight train, practically knocking the wind from my chest as I smudge the steam on the mirror to stare at my pale reflection.
Take a breath.
The dark bags underneath my eyes are pitiful, somehow making my porcelain skin seem pastier than usual. After a few layers of concealer, lip gloss, and mascara, I don’t resemble the Grim Reaper anymore, at least. I could pass for death’s distant cousin. The sidekick, maybe. As I put on my uniform, my darkhair dries in kinky curls, past the point of brushing out, so I decide to leave it alone.
My curls are from my father, who could pass as my twin. We have the same green eyes, the same dark, naturally curly hair, and the same soft, pale skin. The only things I inherited from my mother were her full lips, thick eyebrows, and stubbornness. Thinking about my parents makes me miss them, and I make a mental note to try my best to visit them soon.
It has been three months since the last time I saw them. I stayed for a few weeks over the summer at my childhood home. I call them when I can, but it’s never the same as physically being home and hugging them. They have the best hugs—the kind that make you feel warm and instantly cured of all the problems in the world.
I could use one of those hugs right now.
What do Ido? Call the police? Report that guy in the alley? The repercussions could possibly get Luca in trouble, too… Did I want that? He was trying to help me. That’s all he has been doing since we met. We help each other. We…
I shake my head, sniffling.
Take. A. Breath.
It’s the first day in over a week that it’s not raining in Lunar Crest. Instead, the blue sky is clear, not a cloud in sight as I make my way to the bus stop. The crisp morning air nips at my cheeks and nose, making me pull my blazer tighter around me as I wait for the bus to arrive. Birds chirp excitedly for the pretty day, whizzing around the trees planted on the side of the road in dirt squares that line the street.
I try to focus on the picturesque fall day as long as I can, staring at all the bright shades of orange and yellow on the trees as the bus drives through town toward the university. Every time I feel the phantom hand on my chin or get a flash of Luca holdingthat gun in my mind, I concentrate on the rays of sunshine beaming through the bus window on my skin.
Nothing felt as warm as Luca’s chest against my cheek last night for the few seconds I allowed him to hold me. His cologne is still stuck in my nose.
Jesus Christ.
Sliding down in my seat, I groan quietly, squeezing my eyes shut. Luca Serrano has completely ripped my world right out from under me. I feel so out of control. I’m grasping at the loose strings of tenure I have left, but I can’t reach it. My nerves are one big bundle of panic settling into my stomach, weighing me down.