Page 7 of Bad Moon Rising

I jerk upright in my chair, dislodging the highlighter from where it was nestled between my lips. It falls to the ground and rolls down the aisle until it lands right next to Becka Leeway’s seat. She’s a new student and not someone I’ve talked to much, but she casts me a withering glare anyway as if she’s afraid my highlighter cooties could be transmitted like an airborne virus.

All of that is a distant, errant thought. I can’t focus on anything but Jackson’s throwaway words.

Doesn’t he realize they’re the equivalent to a dozen bombs landing on my lap and exploding in my face?

“Brooks?” I whisper. “He’s-he’s back?”

Orion and Jackson exchange an unreadable look over my head, but they’re saved from responding by Mrs. Crinshaw, our Chem teacher, hurrying into the classroom, her fuzzy gray hair flying out of the bun she’s attempted to sculpt it into.

I know my guys well enough to understand their silence.

Brooks is back.

And…

And he hasn’t even bothered to come and say hi to me.

I try to ignore the twinge of pain in my chest.

Why is Brooks back after all this time?

More importantly…when is he going to leave and break my heart all over again?

3

LILY

After school, I hurry to meet Orion by the sprawling oak tree in front of school. Most days, Jackson has football practice and rehearsals for the school’s production of Heathers, so on the days when I don’t have archery training, Orion and I walk home together. I love this time with just the two of us, even more than I love shooting things with a bow and pretending to be Katniss Everdeen two nights a week.

When he’s around Jackson, Orion tends to shrink into himself. He lets Jackson and their twin magic finish his sentences for him. But when it’s just the two of us, he opens up, and it’s so wonderful to see.

As I run down the steps, a sudden gust of wind flips the cover of my chemistry book right in my face. I’m so surprised that I fling both hands up to shut it, completely forgetting that my arms are filled with my various other books. I cringe as they go flying straight at Becka Leeway’s head.

“Oh, no!” I lunge for her, ready to push her out of the way.

But she doesn’t need my help. Becka moves like lightning. She steps aside and plucks my heavy history book from the air like it’s nothing, allowing the rest of my books to fall harmlessly to the ground.

I stare at her, my mouth agape. “H-h-how did you move so fast? You should have been decapitated by my books!”

“It’s instinct,” she replies with a shrug. She reaches a hand up to run her fingers through her short, blonde pixie-cut. “When you’re walking behind me, I know I need to be on my guard.”

A blush creeps up my cheeks. It’s pretty common knowledge that I’m a bit of a klutz, and I did accidentally spill a strawberry milkshake on Becka’s lap in the cafeteria yesterday. But does she have to point it out like that?

“Well, I’m really sorry. I swear I don’t have it out for you. Everyone at this school’s been a victim of my curse. Ask my friends Jackson and Orion. Once I accidentally set Jackson’s hair on fire and—”

“Whatever. I’ve got to go.” Becka drops the book into my hands and rushes off, her short, pleated skirt swishing around her thighs. I stare after her, wondering what her story is. She’s been at school for a couple of days and hasn’t made any effort to make friends. At lunch, she sits by herself at a table near the back of the room where her only companion is the head lunch lady. During the day, I always see her hustling from class to class with her head lowered like a charging bull. People used to say hi to her or ask her questions, but those pleasantries stopped pretty quickly when it became apparent she wouldn’t return them.

But all thoughts of Becka and her odd behavior dissipate when I spy Orion hiding in the shadows of the oak. I run over to him, dodging around groups of talking kids and thankfully not nearly decapitating anyone else.

“Hey.” He beams as I jog up to him. It’s so rare to see Orion smile. I live for the way it crinkles the skin around his eyes and the tiny, white scar cutting through his pink lips. He got that scar from a tree branch on one of our pretend demon hunts when we were eight years old.

“Hey, yourself.”

“I saw you performing another classic Lily move on the steps.” His smile broadens, causing his eyes to twinkle and that dimple to deepen. The wind rustling the tree branches stirs his dark hair. “I was going to run over and save you, but it looks like you had it under control.”

“Not me.” I shake my head with an exaggerated pout of disappointment. “That Becka girl managed to dodge me before I took her out. She’s a strange fish. It’s like she doesn’t want to make friends here. I wonder why she changed schools this close to the end of senior year, anyway?”

Orion looks thoughtful, but he doesn’t say anything more. I’m used to that with him. He doesn’t like to say what he’s thinking until he’s certain about something. Even still, I can practically hear the wheels in his head grinding together and see the metaphorical plumes of smoke emitting from his ears as he processes my words.

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