Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11)(6)

Tomorrow’s forgotten thing and last night’s regret.

Good only for a lay.

Thing is, what most people think of me is not who I really am, and if all they want is a good lay, then alright. At least I’m getting the same thing out of it. Usually, I’ll roll the dice, see if they do want more.

They never do.

There is one girl I didn’t roll the dice on—and it’s a good thing I didn’t. I know that. Her brother is the one in the car. Waiting for me to drive him to school. Her dad is the one back in the Hale House. Probably throwing darts at a photo of my face.

He’d do worse if he knew what happened between me and his daughter two years ago. I care less what’d happen to me, really, if he found out.

I’ll survive.

I always do.

I just want to survive with people I care about. That’s all. And damaging Luna’s relationship with her dad helps no one. It’s painful, and I’m not trying to dole out any pain. So yeah, I care more about her.

Without responding to Oscar, I pocket my phone and move ahead.

“See ya later, tree.” It’s a robust lookin’ tree. A healthy lad. “Next time, curb.” I hop the curb and round security’s Range Rover, hand sliding across the hood. “Hello, you beautiful four-wheeled beast.” I kiss the mirror before climbing into the driver’s seat. “Ready?” I ask Xander.

“Yeah.” He pulls his headphones to his neck. Brown shaggy hair is messy around his amber eyes. “What’d my dad want?”

“Remind you to wear your seatbelt.” I fit on sunglasses. “Click it or ticket.”

Xander groans, slumping back in the seat. “He acts like I’m two.”

“Nah, more like you’re twelve. I didn’t see him pull out a diaper.”

He tries to smile, but a frown takes hold. “You think he’ll ever see me as a fully functioning and capable adult?”

I start the car. “I think he already does. He let you enroll at Dalton when you wanted to.” Xander had been homeschooled for so long, and if his parents didn’t believe he’d be okay in a private school setting with other students, they would’ve told him no. “I think he just cares about you, but that’s just what I see from where I’m standing.” I shift the car in drive. “And parents who care are the coolest. No cap.”

It’s what I never had from a parent.

It’s why I know I never want to rip that from any of Lo’s kids. He loves them, an honest kind of love. One that they never question. ‘Cause when I remind Xander of his dad’s love, he never hesitates to nod or smile. Sometimes I wonder what it feels like.

Parental love.

Then I remember I’ll never know, so I give up that thought. I’m nearing my thirties. It’s not like I need love from a parent like I did when I was fourteen.

Xander smiles a little more and swigs the last of his coffee. “Very true, wise one.” He always calls me wise one like I’m some intellectual in a fantasy novel or comic book, spouting the Earth’s mightiest truths and shit. In my life, I have wise ones, and the fact that I’m that for someone else is strange.

And I love the weird and strange.

Only when I park at Dalton Academy do I finally respond to Oscar. While Xander finishes either texting his sister or Easton Mulligan, his friend, I type out a reply with one hand.

The easiest thing would be saying yes to Oscar, but I’m not looking for just a good lay.

I finish typing. Appreciation. I got it covered though. Donnelly out.

I send it.

Goal: find a date.

Deadline: 2 weeks.

That’s a long time. I can get it done. No one has more faith in me than me.





3





LUNA HALE





TWO YEARS AGO





* * *



There’s no greater genre than science-fiction. It can be otherworldly. It can be romantic. It can be sexual. It can be gross, murderous, fantastical, or downright bizarre. Science-fiction has no boundaries. Quite literally, even one universe can’t contain it. I love the feeling of being swept away into a different world, sometimes so unlike the one I live in. If I could stay inside my books and my fics, maybe everything would be better. Life would make more sense.

Right now, nothing really does.

I’m about a month away from turning nineteen. College-aged. I’ve already jumped off the precipice of high school, but I haven’t touched the ground yet. I’m in the air.

Floating.

Wondering if I’ll ever fly. I thought you find your wings in high school. Once you graduate, you soar right into everything you’re meant to do. At first, I figured maybe I was a high school outlier. The screw up who’d never achieve what everyone else does.

Either I am a screw up or…

You don’t find your wings in high school.

It’s sad to think that maybe I might not find them at all.

My mom says this is the time to try new things. To figure myself out. That it’s okay to plummet to the ground and pick myself back up. I can’t be afraid of falling, even if that’s what people expect Hales to do: fall and fail. The inverse is that I just keep floating along.

I listened to my mom.

And I tried out Andrew Umbers. (Okay, I’m not positive this was her exact advice, but I just rolled along with it.)