Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“You okay, Luna?” my mom asks, and I realize she’s off her phone and staring down at mine.
“Uh-huh.” I shut off my cellphone and try to hoist my sinking body. “Just…social media.”
My fics.
The unsaid thing floats in the air.
She’s quiet for a long, long while. She chews on her bottom lip, but eventually, she asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shrug. They think I’m just like you. It’s not going to make her feel better. It’s making me feel really awful. “It’s just people online. I know I’m not supposed to listen to any of them.” I bite at the cuticle on my thumb.
“You could talk to your therapist. Have you seen Dr. Raven in a while?”
“Not really.” My voice sounds smaller. “I just don’t feel like talking much.” I glance over at my mom. “How is this going to affect Hale Co.? My leaked fics, I mean.”
“It’ll be fine. You shouldn’t worry about the companies. They’ve been through worse—not that this is bad.” She catches herself quickly. “You should call your aunt. Rose was ranting on the phone for over an hour about the types of people trying to ridicule your writing. She called them pigs. Or swine. Maybe both.”
I realize I haven’t even talked with Eliot and Tom yet. I only sent a thumbs up emoji in reply to their texts from last night.
“And she’s right,” my mom says with another nod. “They’re not good people, and you did nothing wrong. You know that? You did nothing wrong.” She emphasizes it with her entire being, her whole core, and God, I want to believe in that as powerfully as she does.
I try to cradle her words, but she hasn’t read any of the NC-17 level fics: the graphic smutty ones. She’s in my corner because she’s my mom…and I am grateful she’s in my corner at all. I think of Donnelly again, and I wonder how many people will really be in his.
4
PAUL DONNELLY
Everything is all backwards and shit.
Can’t date Luna.
Now I’m texting my dad.
I’d say Mercury is in retrograde—but Luna told me that it already happened back in October. So I can’t really blame this strange turn of events on any planet.
Just on myself, maybe.
Maybe not. Is there really any explanation for why things go bad? Other than bad luck? The only way to get out of it is to move, so I’m not doing nothing. I’m doing somethin’.
I stare at the string of texts on my phone. I’m the one who opened the door I’d padlocked with a single text.
Wanna meet up for a bite Sunday?
My dad responded in less than five minutes.
DAD
Sure. Unless you meant to text someone else.
Nah. I know it’s you. Just thought it’s time to talk.
Past time. And tomorrow is better for me.
Tomorrow then.
So there’s that. But I’m not reaching out to him to bond over hoagies and cigarettes. I might as well be a piece of raw meat thrown into an ocean.
Shark bait. That’s me.
And I’m not fooling myself thinking I’m anything else. Xander’s dad wants more info about my family, and I figure this is the only way to really get it. What he’ll do with it—I’m not a hundred percent sure. To make my family a non-threat, it’d take loads of money, bribery, maybe even murder. And there’s still a part of me that thinks Papa Hale has a hitman on retainer.
Anyway, my family has always been a threat. Anything else feels like a dream.
I can’t even dream tonight, not when I’m having trouble sleeping. I keep thinking about Luna. The Hales. The family and dinner I walked away from. The world I’m not allowed to be a part of.
In a way, I don’t even belong here at this penthouse. I’ve been crashing in the vacant room next to Luna’s thanks to Farrow’s generosity and all. Being in that guest room makes me think of her too much, so I find myself on the rooftop with the best views of my favorite city on Earth.
I smoke a cigarette and sit on the ledge of the roof, legs dangling. There’s a lot still going for me. A career, best friends, a pillow to lay my head on, enough money to buy my next meal. Still living in the great state of PA. All these things would’ve calmed my nerves and made me excited for tomorrow.
But none of that stuff really matters without her.
Cigarette between my lips, I open my daily planner and scribble down a new goal.
Today’s Focus: show Luna I still love her, even if I can’t date her.
I reread that sentence, anger surfacing underneath the hurt. Can’t date her. Slamming the planner closed, I take a long drag of my cigarette. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I slip it out and see it’s Farrow.
I frown. He should be having dinner tonight with the Hales. I pick up the call.