Normal girls went outside with normal boys.
And I wastryingso hard to be normal.
We stepped onto the porch, the night cool and damp. Laughter spilled from inside, but out here it was quieter. The firepit flickered in the backyard, flames bending in the breeze, the light catching on empty bottles and the edges of someone’s abandoned hoodie. I wrapped my arms around myself and stared at the fire until my eyes blurred.
He moved closer, resting his hand on the railing beside mine. “You’re kind of hard to read, you know that?”
I shrugged, my eyes still on the flames. “Maybe you’re not reading the right language.”
He laughed, and it was easy and harmless, doing absolutely nothing to my insides. “Guess I’ll have to learn it.”
His face dipped toward mine.
I froze.
Every instinct screamed at me to move, to lean away, but I couldn’t, not fast enough. Before his lips could touch mine, a burst of cheers erupted from inside the house, the sound spilling through the open windows and rolling across the yard.
I turned toward the noise on reflex, and his kiss brushed my cheek instead.
Ryan blinked, confused, as the voices grew louder, spilling into the night, chantingThatcherandDavisandAdlerlike they meant something holy.
And just like that, my pulse finally remembered how to move.
My breath hitched.
He was here.
The sound of his name wrapped around me, and for a second all I could think about was how badly I wanted to see him…and how dangerous that was.
You have to stay away. He would think you were disgusting if he knew who you really were…what you’ve been doing.
But he also called youbaby, another inside voice said.
It didn’t matter.
I swallowed hard and turned back to Ryan, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “It’s freezing out here,” I said, my voice barely steady. “Want to sit by the fire?”
He smiled, oblivious. “Yeah, sure.”
We walked across the yard, weaving through groups of people huddled together under string lights. The firepit crackled at the center, orange light flickering across faces and half-empty cans. I sank onto one of the benches, the warmth licking at my knees, the smoke stinging my eyes.
Ryan sat beside me, close but not too close, talking about something—his friends, a class project, maybe a game coming up. I tried to listen. I nodded, laughed at the right times, told myself to focus.
Normal. Just benormal.
But the sounds around us started to change. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. Someone’s laughter trailed into silence.
I felt it before I saw it—the sudden shift in the air, the weight pressing against the back of my neck.
I looked up.
And there he was.
Matty stood at the edge of the firelight, the glow catching on the chiseled line of his jaw. The flames turned his skin gold, and his dark hair gleamed like it had been spun from the same heat that fed the fire. He looked unreal…like some kind of god who’d stepped straight out of the flames just to find me.
He wasn’t smiling. He was just staring…straight at me.
The cup in my hand trembled and for one long heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe.
