Page 5

Who names their kid Midnight? Or Dare? Apparently the Sterlings do.

But who am I to judge? My mother named me Syn, pronounced like the wordsinbut with a “y.”

“He’s not royalty,” Riley grumbles.

“His Highness of Dumas. Prince Midnight Sterling. And next in line to the throne is his hot-as-sin cousin, Prince Dare Sterling.” I step back from the counter and roll my arm, giving Riley a huge grin.

She shakes her head and smiles back.

“Syn, I love you.”

“And here you thought you dig dick.”

“I do. Just not Midnight’s.”

The girl is in denial.

“Can I ask you another question before you head to class?”

“Sure.” It’s the first day of school.

“Did it hurt when you got your piercings? What’s it like kissing a guy when you have a lip ring? Do guys like it?”

“Heck yeah it did. Better than without one. Never bothered asking. That’s three questions.”

“Syn.”

“Are you thinking of getting one?” I run the tip of my tongue over the seafoam green ring hugging the middle of my bottom lip.

“I am. Why’d you do it? Did you get them done at the same time? I mean, when we met freshman year, you had all your piercings.”

Dainty silver nose ring. Right brow piercing, the two balls a metallic deep purple, my favorite color.

“Freedom. Rebellion. I got the piercings at separate times. Lip first, then my nose and brow.”

“Bottom to top.”

“Yep.” I hand her a five-dollar bill for the book and my latte.

Riley doesn’t take my money. She grasps my hand and skims her fingertips over my rings. “And these? Do they mean something?”

“Why would you think that?” I slip my hand out of hers and set the bill on the counter.

“If the piercings do, then the rings do too.”

“One listen. One chance. One wish.”

There is no harm in telling her. The rings began as a way of defusing a certain someone’s temper.

“If I give someone all three rings at once, that person can ask for anything and I won’t refuse.”

“Have you ever done that?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“Who?”

“I’m not telling, Riley.”