Page 44 of All the Things We Buried

And I did. I made friends with every single one of them. So we could drink tea at 3:18 a.m. and talk about her.

She could be lost, and I could be her wonderland. So when she wakes up, I’m her most beautiful dream. And she can bemy beautiful nightmare. Because she haunts my mind, day and night.

But maybe that’s my karma, to be so close to someone and still feel like we are oceans apart.

THIRTEEN

LENORE

17 YEARS OLD

Islipped out the back door, and not a soul was awake in the house at this time. My breath hitched as I hit the gravel, the chill air licking bare skin beneath my dress. Sophie’s party was at the old graveyard again. And I didn’t want to miss it this time.

I wore a black silk dress that was tight on my skin, and my loafers clicked softly with every step. I should’ve worn boots. I felt uncomfortable. But I wanted to feel a bit different tonight.

And as I reached the end of the garden, my heart was pounding in my chest. Then it stopped when I saw him there.

Dorian was leaning against the crumbling brick wall fence like he’d been waiting for me. Smoke curled around him. One brow cocked. The glow of his cigarette framed his mouth.

He didn’t speak right away. Just looked at me.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” His voice was low.

I rolled my eyes, heart thudding louder. “Why do you care?”

I turned, but before I could take a full step, his hand closed around my wrist.

“I don’t,” he said, with that smirk. “Go die for all I care.”

“Die?” I laughed, but it came out a little breathless. “God, I wish.”

He didn’t laugh back. Just stared at me for a beat too long. Then let go.

“You really would, wouldn’t you?” he said, voice quieter now.

I faced him fully, lips curling. “What’s so wrong with a girl wanting a little fun?”

“Fun leads to trouble,” he said, stepping closer. “Trouble leads to you. And next thing I know.”

His words trailed off like smoke.

I tilted my head. “What?”

He stared at me for a second too long.

“Next thing I know,” he muttered, “I’m making choices I shouldn’t.”

A beat passed before I asked. “Am I a bad choice to you?”

He didn’t answer at first. Just studied me with those dark eyes. Then he said it.

“No.”

He moved closer.

I could smell the smoke on him now. But under it, there was something warmer, leather and wood.

“Wipe that look off your face,” he said, eyes flicking down to my lips.