“Hey,” he says, frowning. “You lost?”
“Nah, I just needed some air.”
I gesture toward the sky, and he nods, shoving his hands into his pockets.
He’s dressed in the same collared shirt and fitted pants as he was the other day.
I wonder if his closet consists only of this one shirt and pants. Or maybe he has a hundred of them in duplicate. A never-ending supply of ultra-crisp, ultra-white collared shirts and ultra-pressed, ultra-tight pants to go with them.
“What about you?” I ask. “Not having fun?”
“Oh, uhhh...” He pauses, glancing around the clearing. “I was just…looking for someone.”
I don’t ask who.
Mostly because I don’t care. But also because if I ask, he’ll answer and expect me to ask another question about that. And frankly, I’m already tired of his voice.
“Oh,” I say, leaning back on my hands and gazing up at the moon, hoping he’ll take the hint.
“Pretty, right?”
Ugggghhh.
My eyes roll before I turn back to face him.
“What?” I ask.
“The moon,” he clarifies. “She’s beautiful.”
I look at her again.
She’s almost full, but not quite. In the next few days, she will be. Some will spend their evenings utterly unaware, while others will fall victim to the change. But most will feel a sudden urge to look up at the sky and marvel at her beauty, then ask themselves, as if they are not the very reason, why something so beautiful hides herself away in the dark.
“Yes, she is,” I say, looking away.
Grey takes a seat beside me, and I do my best not to bristle.
He is staring at me. I cannot see it, but I can feel it.
I can always feel it like a curse branded on my back.
As his eyes bore into me, I absently wonder if she is as tired as I am.
I count down.
Three…
Two…
One.
A sweaty palm rests on my knee.
“She’s not the only one,” Grey adds, a small smile in his voice.
My gods. Can’t they ever think of something original to say?
“Stop touching me,” I say pointedly.
