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Her soft voice almost sends me straight to the moon.
It does send me right to her.
27
LUNA HALE
I’ve openeda large plastic baggie with my belongings—what I guess I carried or wore tonight. Farrow attached a sticky note on my phone.
Don’t look at the internet.
(You said you wouldn’t.)
x Farrow
I trust that Farrow is telling the truth, and I do remember fragments of our conversation. Him advising me not to check the internet. Me saying…yeah?Or maybe I said,I won’t.
It’s a little hazy, but I set my phone on the hospital bed and sift through clothes: jean shorts, sneakers, fishnets. It all seems familiar, except for a plain black watch.
A knock raps the door.
“Come in,” I call out and pull the watch from the baggie. Does it even work? I tap the watch-face, the hands stuck on three a.m. Why would I wear an old broken watch? Maybe I bought it with Tom and Eliot at a thrift store.
“Luna?”
The new voice draws my gaze upward.Who…?
Slowly, at my own leisurely pace, I canvass this bare-chested, tattooed guy. Gray sweatpants ride low on his toned waist. An inked scorpion, tail on fire, peeks out of the elastic band near his…his dick, really, and it’s hot.
Flush is ascending my neck, crawling to my cheeks. His chestnut hair is swooped back, a silver hoop in one ear and nipples pierced. I dive into the blueness of his eyes for a moment.
I’d categorize him as out-of-this-world sexy, and maybe it’s not just because of the tattoos scattering his carved arms and ridged abs. It’s not even his height or his handsome face. It’s how he’s coming towards me like a bright comet soaring through a darkened galaxy…headed for a favored planet.
Headed for me…
And then I see the chain around his neck.
I freeze.
“Hey…” He slows to a stop, a few inches away. “You alright?” His South Philly accent is thick, and I want so badly to place his voice. I squint, and I think…I think I remember his features more. But from where?
I don’t know.It’s more frustrating than panic-inducing now.
I nod in reply, wanting to believe I’m alright more than I probably am. The watch is warm in my palm, but I’m mostly eyeing the stranger.
He sees the contents of the baggie strewn on the bed and fixates on my phone. “I didn’t think the cops would hand that over.”
The police had my phone? I try to remember if someone already told me about collecting evidence. Maybe I’m too quiet for too long or blinking too much because concern pinches his eyes.
He casts a quick glance to the closed door, then to me. “Farrow said you might be confused…?”
I know him.I have to know him. Why else would he be here?! I bite too hard on my lip. “It’s coming back to me, I think,” I lie.
It’s a quiet, awful lie that makes me feel terrible. Pushing aside the frustrations and guilt, I lift myself a smidge higher on the bed, my arms shaking a little.
“You need help?” He’s at my side, touching the bedframe buttons.
A weird sensation tingles my skin at his closeness. A good weird. I love weird.I do know that.While I’m rising, my face inadvertently moves closer to him, and my breath hitches in a strange pattern. I have to ask… “Who gave you that kyber crystal?”
