Page 12 of Blood Moon
THE …
W …
I traced the ridged tear with my fingers, trying to make out what the poster was trying to warn us from. The woods, maybe? The wolf? Perhaps even a play on words for our school mascot, the Timberwolves … but why was it torn?
It was probably nothing, but all of that faded as I left the building and entered the overbearing afternoon sun.
In the rolling green grass that encased the Campus Center, a group of students scattered around as they played a game of ultimate frisbee. But leaning against a sycamore tree, basking in the sparse shade that came with it, wastheboy.
Of course, it was … of course.
The air was sharp as I inhaled, and I gritted my teeth. It was obvious he was watching me, that it wasonly mewho seemed to exist to him—even as students, faculty, and staff exited the building around me, even as they took the stairs and I remained still—only me.But why? What was it about me that bothered him, and what in the world was his problem?
Fine. If he wanted to play this stupid game, I wanted out.
Another breath, and I headed for him, walking so quickly it should have surprised him, but it didn’t. Instead, he moved to meet me in the middle. His face was stonelike, and he opened his mouth to speak before I had a chance to.
“Mirabella, a word?” His voice was velvety smooth when he said it, and I hated how it seemed casual. As if we were friends.
“Excuse me?” I said, a stutter in my voice. How did he know my name?
We were only a foot away from each other, and he blocked the sunlight that would have otherwise blinded me. And still, he was beautiful. Painfully beautiful. Anyone could see that from a distance, but being this close to him felt like a sin. Liquid gold eyes with flecks of green and brown in them. Dark lashes and full lips. An inexplicable quality about him that left me breathless.
The nameless boy leaned in, and when he did, he smelled sweet and somehow of the earth. I took a step back, needing space from how overwhelming and real all of this was. I knew I spoke a big game, but I’d never had the courage to confront anyone before, never really cared enough to be this determined.
I swallowed hard, straightened my stance. “Who are you?”
Something in him changed then, a squint in his eyes as he shifted his weight. He started to say something, but stopped, looked behind him instead. I followed his gaze but couldn’t track where it landed. There were people everywhere.
Someone passed me by hastily, walking like they owned the path. I could sense a collision, but before I had the chance to move, he gently pulled me to the side, taking me off the pavement and into the grass with him.
His hand was still on my backpack when I realized what had happened, and I shoved him away. “Don’t,” I hissed, but he seemed completely unbothered by my reaction, which pissed me off. Just because he was taller and leaner and clearly looked like he worked out didn’t mean I was the opposite of that … but really, who was I kidding? I still struggled with breath control while running, and while Bobby had a plethora of weights and workout equipment in our garage, I was never interested in any of it long enough to make an impact.
I perked up anyway. “Who are you?” I demanded, raising my voice now.
He lowered his head. “This isn’t a game, Mirabella. You shouldn’t be here.”
It’s Mira,I wanted to say, but then I blinked. “What?What are you talking about?” I took another step back. “I don’t even know you.” I scoffed. Who was he to tell me where I didn’t belong? The audacity.
His jaw twitched, and I mentally prepared myself to fight him, even if there wasn’t a possibility I could win. With Bobby as a father, I learned a few self-defense moves that could help me get away. Bear claw with my hands and go for the eyes. A chop down on his clavicle to break the bone. A swift kick in his jewels to make him fall to his knees.
Yet, as if knowing my thoughts, he smiled, laughed bitterly.
At this, I dropped my backpack, incredibly frustrated. I knew I didn’t have to stand here and humor him, but there was something in me that wouldn’t let me leave. Perhaps it was that my stubbornness was in overdrive, and I couldn’t let him assume he could talk to me the way he did, that he could look at me like that withthoseeyes. He was a prick, and he deserved to know.
“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny.”
He raised both of his brows and chortled before mouthing, “Sure.”
“Dude, what the hell is your problem?”
His demeanor changed then, something feral coming on. The warnings were there, the alarm bells ricocheting inside me. Every sign pointed to how I needed to leave now, but I couldn’t walk away …
“Problem?” He gritted his teeth. “As if you don’t know,” he said, and I watched how he took a few steps away from me, creating distance.
“Knowwhat?”
He repeated himself from earlier, but this time there was a subtle dash of fear in his voice. “It isn’t safe for you here, and if you know what’s best, you’ll turn around, pack your bags, and never return.Please,” he said, the last word sounding as if it had clawed its way out of him. “Just go.”
