Page 28

He let out a soft noise as he read the notes I made about the documentary. I slammed it shut, hoping he didn’t see the ones at the end. Was it weird to watch a documentary about your own family?

I’m having an existential breakdown and wanted my ancestors to inspire me.

“Taking notes? Do you have a particular interest in the Hartlock family?” His thick eyebrow raised, and I stood.

Yelping as I banged my knee on the corner. I thought standing might mitigate the height advantage he had over me. Nope. He still loomed, and now we were even closer.

“I like film.” I stuffed my journal into my bag.

My breath hitched in another lungful of his invigorating scent. This was a man large enough to fold me into his wide body. That was much too appealing. I came to this screening to get away from my problems, not to make new ones.

“The club’s founder will be devastated. Was it the quality of the cupcakes? I can have a word and make sure there are other flavors. I’m Ajax, by the way. What was your name?”

I tossed my bag over my shoulder and looked anywhere but at the wide, welcoming wall of his chest, or the soft, teasing dance of his gaze. My cheeks flamed now. Howmortifying.

“Gods, no,” I muttered, ignoring his request for my name. “They’ve been the only good thing about my day.”

Ajax’s gaze dropped to the gold bracelet on my wrist. “Well, the symbol of the Oracle is gold. Maybe fate will intervene and give you better luck.”

The Gods. I couldn’t feel less connected to the supposed celestial guides of Designated than at this moment. With my heart crushing my tongue and my life in literal shambles.

“I don’t subscribe to fairytales. Enjoy your weekend,” I said.

Ajax’s nostrils flared, and I froze. I used scent wipes before I left, but panic had made me sweat profusely. His eyes glazed and something passed over his face. Recognition?

“Me too, to be honest.” He shifted on his feet. “Look, I don’t want to be presumptuous, but you don’t happen to know a beta named Fenella, do you?”

Ice crashed through my veins.

“I-I don’t—” My words cut off as two men weaved through the mingling crowd. I recognized both their faces. Walden Baylark, and next to him, Lloyd. What were they doing here? Together?

“Ajax, come and get one of these chocolate muffins before they all go. So good.” Walden Baylark balanced a full plate of food. “Recommend something to cheer Lloyd up. He’s got the sulks.”

Lloyd’s voice echoed in my ear from last night, and I couldn’t process the sight of him in real life. His athletic surfer’s build was hunched over a muffin and he brushed away the crumbs with a despondent flick.

“I should know. I made them.” Ajax winked at me. “Help yourself, but if you scrape the icing off again, we can’t be friends.”

I edged past him as sweat sprang on my upper lip.

“Excuse me, I need to go.” I slipped through the narrow tables but one of the plastic bags caught on the corner. The contents, including my bullet journal, spilled out onto the floor.

“No.” I slammed my knees into the ground and snatched at the fallen mess.

But as I did, three pairs of shoes surrounded me, bringing their scents and my ruin.

“Oh, let me help.” Walden crouched next to me.

His crisp eucalyptus scent fired like nostalgia, and suddenly I was twelve years old and he was calling me a kid again. Eight years had passed, and I was just as useless as I had been in that moment. Lloyd dropped in front of me, his gaze on the pens at first until he spotted my bullet journal. I swallowed his scent, sunscreen, and midday sun. It pulsed through me, tinged with a bitter quality.

“Here you go.” He offered the journal to me and my throat swelled.

His eyes were more green than blue in person, and red-rimmed.

Walden dropped the cheap pencils with a sharp intake. He put his hand on my sleeve, where it had ridden up and my gold bracelet was like a brand on my skin.

“Wait, I know… Tully?” Walden’s fingers tightened.

Lloyd whipped his head up so fast he clipped Ajax’s jaw, who swore and wobbled to the side.