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1
Lark
Nine Years Ago
The house stank like beer and liquor. My sweet cinnamon candle lit on the coffee table did little to comfort me against the din of bodies and alcohol consumption. A chorus of cheering from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen made me jump, and I curled my legs tighter against my body as I sat, stuffed in the corner of the large sectional in the living room, clutching my crochet hook and yarn.
Parties and me never really jived for my whole life, and I didn’t expect that to change now.
Lark, we’re in college. We’re supposed to be wild and do all the fun things!
The voice of my best friend, Thea, echoed in my mind. I took in a small breath before I forced my hands to continue with the row of double crochet. Parties might not be my thing, but they were Thea’s thing. She was so excited to host her first “grown-up” party now that she was out of her parents’ house. She was the youngest of six, and with all five of her older brothers always looking over her shoulder, she never had an opportunity to do anything they didn’t approve of. She loved her family—I did, too, for that matter—but she’d been counting down the days until she was officially on her own.
This was our sophomore year at Ember Hollow College, but the first year we weren’t living at home. We’d rented a house near campus a couple months ago with Thea’s friend, Delainey. It was a cute three-bedroom, two-story on a quiet dead-end street. Though I liked the quiet aspect, I wasn’t going to be the one to shut down the Halloween party idea when they both practically begged to host one.
“Hey.”
I stiffened as some guy plopped down on the couch next to me. I glanced up from my crochet, frowning at the big brown eyes and a messy mop of hair. He was dressed sloppily with a pair of ripped blue jeans and a white shirt splattered in red paint to look like blood. Absolutely no creativity.
He was too close; our legs almost touched, and I squirmed as far back into the fluffy couch cushion as I could.
The random guy wasn’t the only one on the sectional, but the other people had hovered near the ends, giving me plenty of breathing room while avoiding eye contact with me. Exactly how I liked it.
“What ya doin’?” The guy raised his brows at the crochet hook in my hand.
I cleared my throat, adjusting my attention to my yarn, hoping he’d get the idea that I wasn’t in the talking mood. “I’m crocheting.”
“Oh, my grandma does that.”
“I’d probably like her.” My hands started to move, my hook scooping in and out of the stitches so fast I barely had to think about it.
The guy laughed, and to my disappointment, he didn’t leave. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool for a grandma.”
I ignored this comment, tucking my legs so tight against my chest I could hardly breathe.
“So, what are you supposed to be?”
I tensed as he touched the bell sleeve of my cardigan. It was beautiful and oversized in the best way, with pastel rainbow colors. I’d embroidered small monarch butterflies and flowers on it, and though the guy couldn’t see them, on the back I’d crocheted an image of butterfly wings.
My eyes snapped back up to his brown ones. Thea had done a flawless job on my makeup. She had drawn beautiful butterfly wings at the corners of my eyes with sparkles and pretty swirl designs.
“I’m a butterfly.”
I loved butterflies. I’d been obsessed with them since I was a little girl. They were so colorful and free, everything I desired to be.
His gaze flicked up to the antennas I’d insisted on wearing, even though Thea hated it. “Ooohh.” The corner of his mouth hitched up. “Cool.”
I nodded and was about to go back to ignoring him when he suddenly picked up my ball of working yarn.
“So, like, how come you’re sitting here all by yourself? Don’t you like to party?”
I zeroed in on his hand, my body tensing. “No, I don’t.”
He tossed the yarn from his left hand to his right, and I almost lost it. “How come? Isn’t this your house? Aren’t you and Thea tight?”
I didn’t know how he knew me or Thea, but that yarn he was throwing around like a baseball was super expensive.
“Please put down my yarn.” I sounded more composed than I felt.
