Page 54 of Blood Moon
“No.” He didn’t hesitate, and he brought his gaze to me. “I wouldn’t do anything stupid on campus. Too much to risk.” Seven’s nostrils flared when he exhaled, and he slid a hand down his face. “I shouldn’t have let myself lose it like I did. I’m really sorry.”
When I accepted his apology, he asked me where I was headed, and I pointed to my dorm up ahead. “Want someone to walk with?”
The night crept in, and I nodded.
A ghostly wind enfolded us as the distant hoot of an owl sounded from a nearby tree. We were stolen glances between heartbeats, not speaking, only careening together in space. There was a change in his breathing, and he chewed his bottom lip. Suddenly, he was within reach, sliding a hand into mine.
“Can I?” he murmured.
I nodded, a smile coming on. Seven’s hand was large in comparison to my own. It was welcoming, the only thing making me feel warm in the frigid evening.
“God,” he mumbled, a flush to his cheeks. “Don’t smile at me like that, Mira.Please.”
“Like what?”
“Likethat. All beautiful and everything. You don’t understand how that gets me.”
I smiled away from him, sharing the view with the stirring night critters until there was a tap on my shoulder, encouraging me to consider him again.
“I got your flowers,” I said. “They’re lovely. Thanks for sending them.”
“You deserved more than that.” He squeezed my hand. “But I hope it was enough to convey my apologies,” he said, and I assured him that it was.
After we climbed the steps to Hester Hall, Seven glanced over at the chairs on the end of the porch. “Wanna talk for a little?” He suggested, and I agreed, following him over.
I asked about practice; in turn, he asked about classes. We talked about home life, and the cities we were from. Seven was from North Kansas City, located past the Missouri border, and he scrunched his nose when I told him Timber Plains was home for me.
Seven leaned in while I talked, watching my mouth move like he was studying me for an exam. It was strange in that it made me feel unsure of myself, but each new moment came with a smile that made my heart beat a little harder than it did before.
Being around him felt different than anyone else. There was no fear, no threat of a lurking danger. It was an innocence that sliced through my soul, poured me over him.
And it was a reason, a reminder that happiness could exist, a glimpse into the world ofperhaps. There was a version of me who attended Lakeland University on my own accord, who was steadfast in friendships, who experienced the extent of all there was to offer. She was blissful, and daring, and grounded—if only I could get to her, wear her skin for a day. But the thought came with an aching caution, a question:What would I have to sacrifice to be her?Another caveat: If Bobby hadn’t applied for me to be at Lakeland, who had? And if it were Rena,why?
It was approaching midnight. “I better head inside,” I said. Seven nodded in agreement.
He walked me to the door, grabbed my hand before I went inside. Those vivid eyes were deep, bruising me. “Hey, Mira …” He took a breath, looked at me again. “Would you go to homecoming with me?”
My jaw went slack. With everything happening, I’d almost forgotten homecoming was in a few weeks. There were signs in the dining hall, posters pinned in academic buildings. All themedThe Great Gatsby.
He had a stutter when he spoke. “No—no pressure. If you’re going with someone else that’s o—”
I stopped him, held his hand tighter. “I’d love to go with you.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah, I think it would be fun.”
“I’ll make sure of that. I promise.”
We moved closer to each other, and he swallowed as I wrapped my arms around him, pressing into the center of his body. With my face against him, I could feel how shaky his breathing had become, the rise and fall of his chest jolting.
A warm eucalyptus scent clung to the cotton in his sweater, and when he pulled away, it was in the smallest of increments. He pressed his forehead against mine, a shadow forming. My breathing hitched.
I chewed at the inside of my lip, pushed my fingertips into his arms. He flexed at my touch, and it made me smile. At once, the tips of our noses touched, and he reached his hand to cup the side of my face.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, lips grazing mine. He closed his eyes, and for a second, I could feel the warmth of his open mouth pressing in on mine until an earsplitting sound tore us apart.
A screeching wailed in the shadows past the building, close to the trees. It wasn’t human.
