Page 28 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

I continued to daydream about her, though. And my friends in band were growing tired of hearing me blather on as if she were the center of the universe. But I kept my distance, even as I sometimes stayed up late, thinking of ways to simply say hi. I was just too scared of more failure.

Rush was right; I was hopeless.

My gaze crawled back to her, and my chest filled with achy regret. I knew I was a mess. But I didn’t care. I was almost just as content adoring her from afar, knowing nothing about her, as I was wishing I could approach her and learn everything, because this way…this way was safe. Plus she could remain my flawless dream if I never approached her.

And flawless she was as a beautiful unknown. I could concoct any perfect life for her that I wanted. Which I did. A lot.

It was a bonus treat to get to see her out of the classroom. This would give me more to daydream about. She looked different out here in the open air, sitting among the orange and red fallen leaves that sprinkled the ground around the bench where she sat.

Nature suited her. The sunlight beamed down on her as if proud to serve such a blessed mortal. The warm autumn colors complemented her blonde hair. And the breeze teased those very locks, playing with the light curling strands like a lover delighting in its conquest.

Oh, to be the wind or the sun just now. Lucky bastards got to ply her with all their attention, openly and boldly, no fetters or insecurities or fears holding them back.

Jealousy clawed at my abdomen as I wished I weren’t so constrained.

Then my heart leaped into my throat when the two ladies on the bench stood with the approach of another—some guy who smiled as if he knew them, as if he belonged.

Fuck, she was taken, wasn’t she? She already had a—

But the man bypassed her and went to her friend, where the two hugged and kissed. With his arm around the friend, he turned to my dream girl and said something to make her smile and laugh. Her friend tipped her head to the side so she could rest her cheek on the guy’s shoulder, and he swung her away so they could leave together, abandoning my dream girl there in front of the bench by herself.

She watched them depart, and I swear her smile grew sad—or maybe contemplative—before she turned away and gathered her things.

It made me wonder why she’d stared after them like that. Did she resent the guy for stealing her friend away? Or maybe she had a crush on him herself.

God, I hoped not.

Then she turned away from them and glanced around as if trying to decide where to go next. But her gaze caught on another couple cuddled together on a blanket in the grass before it strayed to yet another pair of lovebirds as they walked past her hand in hand.

Her shoulders slumped and expression went wistful until suddenly I understood. She was lonely. She just wanted what they had, her own person, a companion with which to share everything.

I could be that person, the deeply buried, hopeful place inside me howled. I could walk with her through the courtyard and listen to her detail her day. I could sit with her in the grass and battle with the breeze for the right to touch her hair. I could love her like she seemed to want. I just knew I could.

And yet, approaching her to find out if we were compatible or she’d even be willing to accept my adoration was impossible. I was a coward. Nothing seemed more fatal than receiving a rejection from the girl who possessed so many of my thoughts. So I couldn’t bring myself to give her even the chance to reject me.

Realizing I’d been standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring way too long, I bowed my head, cleared my throat, and turned in a different direction. But not a moment later, I heard a call.

“Henry! Yo, Henry. Wait up.”

I glanced over to find Reuben, a fellow trumpet player in the band, jogging toward me.

Tipping my chin up in greeting, I stopped and waited. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Out of breath by the time he reached me, he readjusted the straps of his backpack and flashed me a wide smile. “So did you hear about the tryouts?”

I nodded. “Yep.” Rush had been right; the director was looking for someone to fill Baxter’s position as the trumpet section leader. He’d tacked up a poster, announcing tryouts just this morning. Three people had already texted me about it to make sure I knew.

Reuben scowled with impatience. “Well,” he demanded, waving a hand as if to hurry me along. “Are you trying out or not?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Can’t hurt to try, anyway, right?”

Shoulders slumping in disappointment, Reuben took a moment to appear forlorn before he nodded and mumbled, “Sure.”

“What about you?” I bumped him in the shoulder in an effort to cheer him up from whatever had bummed him out. “You going to try for it too?”

“Was thinking about it,” he said, focusing on the toe of his shoe as he kicked at a leaf on the ground.

“You totally should,” I said.

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