Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
And that does make me feel really good, despite any other sad emotion tumbling through me.
Dad doesn’t break away from Mom. With his arms around her waist, he stands behind her lovingly, and he’ll even bend a bit and rest his chin on her shoulder.
“Hey, hi,” I say quietly, maybe too quietly with the music, but I add louder to my dad, “Happiest of birthdays to you.”
“It is one of the happiest.” He eyes the magical ballroom, worthy to be called a Halloween Hellfire Gala. “I am sincerely shocked almost everyone listened to my costume list.” He takes a swig of water. “Mostly surprised by Eliot and Tom. I thought they would’ve come here half-naked.”
“It’s your 50th,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t think anyone wants to stomp on this one, even for a joke.”
He has a half-smile. “It will save me from a heart attack.”
Mom goes wide-eyed. “Let’s not summon the words heart attack on Halloween. It’s bad, bad, bad, Lo.”
“I’m fifty, love. Not in the grave. Plus, look at Connor. He’s been on GQ twice this year and he’s in his 50s. Only good things from here.”
She nods in agreement and then steals a kiss. He’s smiling against her lips.
I’m looking around the ballroom again. This time, I’m trying to figure out which direction is to the attic, but when I turn back to my dad, his smile is gone. Left with only a certain unease that probably rose from me.
“Who are you looking for?” he asks more tensely.
Mom sends him a subtle look that I can’t even read.
“Not who you think,” I say with more bite than usual.
His brows cinch. “Luna—”
“I was just looking for Kinney.” I’m not trying to fight with him on his birthday. I’ve barely ever fought with my parents in my lifetime. The pang in my chest starts hurting worse. “Do you know where the attic is? She invited me to her séance.”
He tries to relax, but tension strains his jawline. “Yeah, yeah.” He nods a few times. “I knew Kinney would love this place.” He tries to smile but he can’t, and then he gives me directions so quickly that I lose track after the first right turn.
I don’t really have the heart to ask for a repeat.
Not tonight.
I just want to go.
The music changes to an old school Skrillex EDM beat. One of their favorites. I let them have their moment, and I leave the ballroom behind.
Teleportation would come in handy right about now. After going up the creaky old stairs, I’m lost on the second story. Why are there so many hallways?
I haven’t even run into half of my roommates yet. I could go snort a line of coke in the bathroom and no one would ever know. And I don’t know why I think of that.
I’m not the biggest drug user, but I’ve tried my fair share of stuff with Eliot and Tom.
Six short stairs lead to a door with a crystal knob. Okay, this has to be the attic. I swing open the door and step inside.
Not the attic. I’m in one of the dressed rooms for the party. A disco ball spins overhead, and the light refracts against silver-framed mirrors. Tons and tons of gorgeous mirrors, and as I spin to look around me, I imagine I’m on a starship.
Or I’m waiting to be beamed up.
I intake a big breath as my reflection stares back at me. In so many different directions.
Green hair, green-tinted lip gloss, and my shimmery dress—but it’s the sadness in my eyes that causes me to go still.
I’m so tired of floating.
So tired of being lost in space. I look up at the sparkling disco ball. Someone take me. I shut my eyes and lift my arms in the air. Picturing myself flying, truly flying, for the first time.
A knock sounds behind me.
I jump.
“Sorry,” Donnelly says gently. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Still raising my arms, I twirl around quickly, and breath leaves me when I see him. Donnelly is in the doorway, his alien antennas bobbing and his outfit like the galaxy I imagined being inside.
The way he’s looking at me—it has no name that I can justly describe. But for you, unearthly reader, I’ll try. It is knotted heartstrings and centuries of longing. It is stars you wish upon and hopes yet to come undone.
It is the end and also just the beginning.
His blue eyes are reddened, restraining more emotion that I feel pumping between us, and I slowly lower my arms to my side.
“You didn’t scare me,” I whisper. “Strangely, I think I might’ve wished you here.”
“It’s not the strangest thing,” he breathes, his chest taut. His gaze dives deeper into my stratosphere, into the planet I like to pretend I live on, into everything I am, and very softly, Donnelly whispers, “Illy?”