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I wonder if she’s picturing it too.
When Luna returns to the audience to catch the tail-end of the panel, I switch with Frog again, and I’m next to Xander.
He leans into me and whispers, “Don’t tell me my sister asked Gandalf on her triple date.” I knew he heard about Luna, Tom, and Eliot’s triple date, but I’m surprised he was watching us and not 100% absorbed by the panel.
“I know nothing,” I banter under my breath.
“You know everything, wise one,” he whispers, then sighs heavily. “Shhhit, I can’t believe she did that.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Because I thought she’d take O’Malley.”
O’Malley.
His name radiates through me, along with confusion. O’Malley is Beckett’s current bodyguard and someone who constantly tries to get under my very thick skin (and unfortunately succeeds). Xander has no idea of any friction between me and O’Malley. It’s mostly stayed in security.
“Why O’Malley?” I whisper.
“I heard he likes her, like a friend.” Xander goes a little ashen. “I, um, eavesdropped on Epsilon on the yacht this summer. When Sulli got engaged. SFE were there when we first got on the boat.” He lowers his voice more. “They weren’t being that loud, so I only caught pieces, but he seemed to like her, so I told Luna afterwards. It feels good knowing people are saying good things about you and not being shitheads behind closed doors. Luna doesn’t get that a lot.”
I’m nodding, but fuck me—O’Malley could’ve been an option for Luna.
He’s not. She didn’t ask him.
And my little Elf is sweet for thinking of Luna and a little naïve for thinking O’Malley is a friend and not a foe. Then again, O’Malley is a bodyguard—he should always be considered a friend to them.
He’ll just never be one to me.
I have a hard time believing he said nice things about Luna on the yacht, and I don’t like that her name came outta his mouth.
I’m glad she didn’t take him, I can’t say that to Xander. Don’t want him to mistrust any bodyguards. It blows knowing Xander expected Luna to take O’Malley on a date instead of taking me. Why wasn’t I a consideration in his mind?
Glitter shimmers on my arms from when it’d fallen off Luna’s pink wig. I look up, not brushing anything off.
Xander eyes Gandalf a couple rows ahead of us. “Whoever that guy is, I doubt he’d be able to pull Excalibur from the stone. He’s unworthy.”
I’m worthy of her.
If I didn’t believe I wasn’t good for something or someone, I wouldn’t even be here. Protecting these families. I am good enough. I always have been.
I will be good for someone one day too, and more than my friends will be able to see me for me. I’m just afraid that person is Luna—because I can’t see a way where we’re together in this world.
10
LUNA HALE
Instead of going home to the penthouse right after Philly Comic-Con, I jump in my parents’ car with Xander and Kinney. All of us are still in Cosplay, except for Mom and Dad.
With the Pixie latex bodysuit bunching uncomfortably at my crotch, I’m envious of my mom’s comfy leggings and black oversized Spider-Man 2 tee. I think she got it for free during a midnight screening, back in the day. When I lived at home, I used to raid her closet for cool throwback shirts all the time.
I kinda miss that.
But I wouldn’t trade it for the freedom of living in the penthouse. Partly because I know I’m always welcome back to my childhood home.
We do a Taco Bell drive-thru run, another perk to riding with them and not going straight home with Moffy and Farrow.
Our bodyguards are tailing us in their SUV, and I imagine Donnelly either on his phone like me or maybe chatting away with Frog, plus Security Force Alpha and Epsilon.
I’m slurping on a Baja Blast and scrolling through Fanaticon forums. Trying to forget about my triple date and Korey.
“This car is way too quiet,” my dad says in the passenger seat while unwrapping a crunchy taco. Mom is behind the wheel, slurping a Baja Blast like me as we dead-stop in Philly traffic. Which is happening a lot.
Dad rotates to see me and Kinney on our phones. In the very backseat, Xander is sprawled out and also on his phone. “Lady Loki. Pixie. Elf boy—”
“Fëanor, son of Finwë,” Xander corrects with a rising smile.
“Huh, so you aren’t a son of mine.” He looks to Mom. “Lil, turn around. We forgot our kids. We should dump the imposters.” He mimes opening the locked door.
I laugh with Xander. Kinney tries to maintain a cool face, but her lips upturn too.
“They’re all ours, Lo,” our mom says proudly.
I smile more.
I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s but theirs.
“You would birth superheroes,” he agrees, drizzling hot sauce packets onto his taco, and my smile teeters. I’m not so sure I live up to X-Men Pixie status or a hero label. I do feel more like the imposter in the car.
