Page 35 of Wild Fury (Fallen Royals 6)

Theo

Three and a Half Years Ago — Theo’s Sophomore Year of High School

Lucy Page sits high up on the bleachers today, in front of the cheerleading practice. They’re shaking their pom-poms and dancing around, a major source of distraction for my teammates. For once, though, there’s not a camera in Lucy’s hands. She’s bent over her lap, occasionally raising a pen to chew on the cap.

“Dude,” Liam calls, jostling me. “What are you staring at?”

I shake it off. I haven’t told anyone that Lucy has caught my attention. Maybe it was the other week when her sister ditched her, or before that… But every time I see her, my gaze snags. She’s a magnet, and I hate it.

“Is that your stalker?”

“No.” I turn away.

“Because she looks like her. The girl in middle school who was always staring at you. Weird how she found you again.” Liam jogs ahead, abandoning me.

The whistle blows, the play starts, and I shove thoughts of Lucy Page out of my head. Well, I try to, but I keep glancing at her. It gets bad enough that Ian rams his shoulder into my back and hisses to pay attention.

I grind my teeth until practice ends, and I find myself walking just behind Caleb and Amelie.

“My sister wants to do dinner,” she’s saying to Caleb. “And I told the girls we would do something. I’m not sure why my parents want me to bond with her every week. It’s a lot.”

“So you’ll ditch her,” I say without thinking.

Amelie glances over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. “You don’t usually have opinions.”

I shrug. “I do now.”

She spins and squares off with me. “Fine, then you take her to dinner.”

“I—”

Caleb snorts. “Well, you stepped in it this time, my friend.”

I grunt. The two of them disappear inside, and I slowly rotate back to the field. Lucy is still on the bleachers, doing homework or whatever. It has her enthralled—I doubt she’s even realized practice is over. That kind of bubble kills me—I want to stalk over there and rip the book from her hands.

But then she looks up and over, meeting my gaze.

The force of it knocks the wind out of me.

Why?

She collects her things and walks over, taking her time. She finally stops in front of me. She seems less severe today. Her light-blonde hair is down, glasses in place. Not as much makeup on today. No bracelets, either.

The change gives her a more innocent vibe—until she smirks.

“I’m taking you home,” we say at the same time.

I frown, off-balance once again.

“What?” Again, simultaneous. “Stop it.”

My eyes narrow, but she only lifts her chin.

“My sister pawned me off, huh?” She pretends to pick lint off her shirt.

I stare at her. “Smarter than you appear,” I finally say. “Even if you’re annoying.”

She shrugs and brushes past me, opening the door and holding it for me. “I know.”

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