Page 138 of Boys Who Taint

“Sorry,” I say.

“It’s only my most important notebook that nearly got wet there,” he laments.

“What’s in it?” Océane asks.

“Things,” he responds, rolling his eyes. “None of you can appreciate.”

“Wow. Okay. Now I’m slightly offended,” Ivy responds.

“Try me,” I tell him.

He narrows his eyes, approaching. “Fine. You wanna know?”

He flips open his notebook and reads the words out loud.

Oh, gentle verdant storm

Whisked away by madness

All that dares

Wilts and wanes

Shredded and torn

Leaves dance in tune

Spinning the world on its axis

Leaving a heart in ruin

Everyone staresat him like he’s lost it.

“What?” Ivy mutters.

Orion’s half-mast eyes focus on her. “It’s a poem.”

“Aha … Yeah, I don’t get it.”

“Is it about a hurricane?” Océane tries to guess. “A tornado?”

“Oh my God.” He buries his face in his hands. “Never mind.”

“I thought it was beautiful,” I say, smiling.

His face lights up momentarily. “Thank you. Wrote it myself.”

Sunny Reed approaches from behind, and I immediately lean away so she doesn’t lock eyes with me. I don’t want to remind her of the last time we saw each other. She narrows her eyes when she sees us and sneaks up on Orion, then snatches his notebook right out of his hand.

“He—” His words are cut off when he lays eyes on her. Like he just froze over and turned to stone.

“Nice,” she says while reading. “Needs more violence, though.”

She chucks the notebook back into his hand, and he tucks his hair back after an obvious blush appears on his cheeks. “Thanks.”

“You’re creative,” Océane says. “Unlike the other Torres boys.”

“Not a Torres, though,” Orion muses, tucking his pen away. “Navarro. And proud of it.”

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