Jer shrugged. “Dunno. Think maybe he likes you.”
I frowned. Something wasn’t right. I was only ten, but I’d been in and out of enough homes to know when the edges didn’t quite line up. Nice houses didn’t always mean nice people. Quiet halls didn’t always mean peace. And getting special treatment? That usually came with strings.
“So… cereal?” he asked after a beat.
I didn’t have anything better to do, nowhere else to be, so I nodded. He turned without waiting for more, and I followed him down the hallway.
He stopped at a tall pantry with a padlock across the handles.
“It’s locked,” I said.
Jer grinned. “Yeah. I’ll show you.”
He pulled a bent bobby pin from his back pocket. It took him less than ten seconds to pop it open.
We ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, two mismatched bowls of cereal between us. The lights were dim, the house quiet in that eerie way big houses get in the evening. I kept waiting for someone to come in and tell us to move, to stop, to go to bed, but no one did.
“You’re quiet.”
I shrugged.
“I like it,” he said. “Most kids talk too much. You don’t.”
Jer sat cross-legged, crunching loudly.
“You’re also really pretty,” he said suddenly, like it was no big deal. “Like... weird pretty. Not like the girls in school.”
I blinked at him. My ears went hot.
“And I like you,” he added with a shrug. “Not likethat, but like… you’re not fake. You don’t talk a lot. That’s good.”
I didn’t know what to say. So I nodded, my fingers tapping the edge of the cereal bowl.
He leaned closer. “If he likes you too much... and it gets weird or anything, just tell me, okay?”
My stomach tightened.
He looked at me then—not with pity, but with this knowing sadness that was older than either of us should’ve had.
“I won’t tell anyone. But I’ll help you. I promise.”
I swallowed hard, then whispered, “Okay.”
Right there, on that kitchen floor, surrounded by stale cereal and silence, we became friends. Not the kind of friends who made bracelets or passed notes.
The kind who kept secrets.
The kind who watched each other’s backs.
The kind who understood.
1
luna
Present Day
Will was standing in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, while I pulled on my underwear. He always did this thing after sex, ran straight for the toothbrush, like he couldn’t handle any sort of aftercare until his mouth felt minty fresh. It was his weird little quirk, and even after over three years, it gave me the ick.
