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I’m in love with him. I have been since my first day in high school when I saw him leaning up against the wall talking to his friends. He’s tall with broad shoulders, and he has this jet-black hair that he wears a little too long. It falls at the top of his shoulders and is so dark it glistens. He is perfect and that’s not really an exaggeration. He has this smile that makes me feel like he’s always thinking something deliciously dirty when he looks at me. I don’t know what that says about me, but I like it.
Gavin’s the only boy that’s made me feel…Well… anything. He excites me, and whenever I’m anywhere near him, I feel completely alive. That’s the way it has been for two years.
Of course, in two years I’ve not spoken one word to him. I’ve wanted to. I’ve even come close once or twice, but then I chicken out. Jules thinks I’m insane, and I guess maybe I am. Every day I make up my mind to go and talk to him…
And every day I chicken out.
I’m a mess. I haven’t gone on a date with any of the guys who have asked me. I don’t want to date anyone but Gavin. He’s never going to ask though. I’ve finally come to that conclusion. He’s not interested. He may stare at me, but he hasn’t bothered talking to me, not once in two years. If he was the slightest bit interested, surely that would be different. I need to move on and quit mooning over Gavin Lodge.
There are plenty of other fish out there.
Like his brother Atticus. Jules thinks he’s even better looking than Gavin. He’s not, but he is really cute and funny. He’s sweet, and I can tell he likes me. He’s asked me out a few times, and I do like him better than the others that have.
I even thought about saying yes. But, how skeezy is that? I can’t go out with a guy and wish I was with his brother the whole night. That’s just wrong. So, I’ve kept Atticus firmly placed in the ‘friendzone’.
“You should meet up with us tonight, Luna,” Atticus says, drawing my attention back to him.
“Meet up?”
“Yeah, at the campground. We’re going to camp out and have a big bonfire.”
“My mother would freak at the idea of me being outside all night at a co-ed camp out,” I laugh.
I’m not joking. If anything, I’m understating how my mother would react. I have great parents, the best really. However, I’m their baby girl and there’s no way my mom is going to let me camp out all night with boys and no chaperone.
“What if you tell her you’re going to stay with me?” Jules asks.
“What do you mean?”
“You can tell your mom that you’re staying with me, and I’ll tell mine that I’m staying at your house,” she says excitedly.
“You think that will work?”
“Of course, it will!” She states that like she thinks I’m being stupid. When obviously it’s the other way around.
“And what happens when Mom calls your house to talk to me?”
“We’ll make time to call her and tell her we’re going to bed early.”
“You think that will work?” I ask again like a parrot, because Jules has to be insane. What parent will believe you’re going to bed early on a Friday? Especially if you’re staying with a friend?
“Totally,” she reiterates, physically jumping up and down.
Totally.
“Come on, Luna. I’ll take care of you. Honest, it will be okay,” Atticus urges me.
I don’t want to do this. Even thinking about lying to my parents makes me nervous. Jules is so excited though and all of my friends are staring at me expectantly. If I say no, I’m totally going to be looked at like I’m a chicken. It’s hard enough going through high school with the nickname Icebox. The last thing I need is to have them saying I was too scared to go to a camp out.
“Fine…” I mutter, less than convinced.
“Yay!” Jules screams.
“If I get into trouble, I’m going to kill you,” I warn her quietly.
She ignores my warning and wraps her arms around me squealing.
I ignore the sinking sensation that this isn’t going to end well.
So if my mom catches me and grounds me for the rest of my life… I’ll survive…
Right?
Crap.
Chapter Three
Gavin
“Where are you going?” I ask Atticus, even though I know I shouldn’t. He’s been walking around here like his shit doesn’t stink all fucking evening.
“A bunch of us are meeting up at the campground for a party,” he mutters, throwing some things in an old thin, plastic, store bag.
“Like who?”
“How is it any of your business?”
“I could always tell Dad you’re sneaking out.” I shrug, being an asshole.
“You’re a fucking dick.”
“Takes one to know one.” I smirk.
