Page 8 of Blood Moon

They called us wretched when we were warriors.

Article II, Lost Letters from Aadan the First

I wrestled with my thoughts as I continued to get ready for the day.

I was nervous I’d end up in the wrong classroom or the wrong building.

Lakeland University was large enough that it would easily take fifteen minutes to make it to my first class—a reason why I was thankful I had woken up so early.

Life bustled the moment I stepped foot outside of Hester Hall and onto the sidewalk.

Bodies blurred in motion around me. Students, professors, and faculty clustered around the campus—some sat on benches as they sipped from steaming cups.

Some idled in the grass as they stared at their phones.

Even some of the more adventurous ones swung from hammocks they’d tied to trees while the morning sun shone on the sides of their faces—but most of them were going , moving, to wherever their destination was.

In and out of the breeze, cutting between the masses, onward to their next journey.

A feeling came to me as gently as the morning gust. It brought a twinge of anxiety. Because there, in a coffee stand line, was the boy I’d seen glaring at me in Robertson Hall.

From here, I could see that he was tall, maybe six-three or six-four, and his dark hair was pulled into a bun.

He wore a black T-shirt and dark blue jeans that were cuffed slightly above his white Converse, and hanging off his right shoulder was a backpack.

His facial features were softened, different than how I’d seen him before, and it made me wonder why he’d looked at me with such agitation yesterday.

Perhaps it was a mistake, even if it felt directed—because any other reason I’d considered didn’t add up—and it was as I let the smugness set in to my walk when he just so happened to turn and notice me.

There was something about him so vehemently overwhelming, it almost had the power to stop me in my tracks completely.

I kept my chin high as he did a double take, his head tilting to the side as he chewed on the idea of me, whatever that was. He didn’t fluster, didn’t scowl … he just was.

I felt a rush of pride and distinction as I walked past him, knowing full well he couldn’t take his eyes off me. The power I felt I had, the grip right beneath my fingertips—I loved it. Possibly too much, but it was the only thing I had against him.

When I’d gotten a few yards away, my phone vibrated in my back pocket.

I love you bug

Hope you have a great first day

The text didn’t come as a surprise. It was Bobby through and through. My father was a complete sap, had always been the sugar to the salt in my wounds.

I wondered if I should call him during the break I had between classes to tell him about the haunting animal eyes I’d seen in the forest. It was too coincidental not to mention it, but then, even if I did, what would he do?

Scope out the premises simply to find nothing there?

It seemed like if I told him, he’d think I was using it as an excuse to stop attending the university, and that wasn’t the case.

As I responded with a quick thank you, another thought came to mind. One that forced a curl in my fist and brought a stutter to my chest. I couldn’t help but think of her, of Rena.

She had once promised that she loved me more than the stars in the sky, more than the air in the world, more than the life she lived … and where was she now, during one of the biggest new changes in my life?

It was lies, all of it.

Rena’s face was the only thing I could see as I looked in the mirror this morning and curled my hair. It was her dark brown eyes and pinched cheeks. Her nose. Her scattered, faded freckles. I could hardly stand the sight, could hardly stop myself from breaking the skin on the inside of my cheek.

I was unsure how Bobby did it, how he could look at me and love me all the same, when I was the constant reminder of how the woman he’d promised his life to just up and left him.

It was a sadness that crystallized into a simmering rage.

How could she love us so much and leave us in the same breath?

Every memory together. Every hug, every kiss goodnight—all of it so trivial … so inconsequential.

And each step I took made me hate her a little more.

I deserved to know why she left.