Page 95 of Landon & Shay: Part One

I wish I was born on leap year. Then I’d only have to go through this crap every four years.

Anyway, the highlight of this night was that you crossed my mind a lot.

That has to count for something, right?

-Satan

* * *

We hadrules about our notebook. We were never supposed to talk about what Landon had written inside. He wasn’t supposed to spill his truths out in a verbal fashion, and I kept my word on that the best I could. Yet, that Friday when I read the words Landon had written in his notebook, I found my way to him. He was standing in the cafeteria, seconds away from picking up his lunch tray, and I darted toward him.

Without any words, I wrapped my arms around his frame and pulled him into the tightest hug known to mankind. Everyone in the cafeteria was watching, I was sure. Everyone was staring as Shay Gable wrapped her arms around her sworn enemy. Everyone looked on as Landon Harrison wrapped his arms around me, too.

He hugged me back.

Oh my gosh, he was hugging me back, and that made me tug on his body even harder. There was no way to tell where his heartbeats began and where mine ended. It was as if they were beating as one, as if we were two willows tangled up with each other.

For his birthday, he smelled like smoky oak and dressed like darkness.

My favorite version of him—the realest one.

“Happy birthday,” I whispered, my head resting on his chest. I wasn’t even sure he heard me. The words were so quiet as they rolled off my tongue.

He pulled me in closer, kissed the top of my head, and then rested his chin there. “Thank you, Chick,” he said softly, his words cracking as if they were hard to get out.

“Always, Satan,” I replied.

I think I meant that, too.

I think I meant always.

23

Landon

It had beenthree hundred and sixty-five days.

The Earth had orbited the sun over the past three hundred and sixty-five days.

The moon had risen over each of those three hundred and sixty-five days.

People had laughed, cried, and celebrated all sorts of occasions.

And Lance had missed all of it.

He’d missed the sunrises, the sunsets, the thunderstorms, and the clear days.

He’d missed my birthday.

My birthday.

I was eighteen years old.

Young and stupid but feeling old as shit.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept longer than thirty minutes—except for when Shay forced me to sleep. The past week had been a struggle, seeing how she didn’t have her cell phone to call me late at night.

My head hurt from the lack of sleep, and no matter what I did, the circles under my eyes were still there, heavy and deep.

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