Dirty Little Secret

“You really don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s fine.” He shakes his head and swallows hard. “They… they’re dead.”

I gasp as tears fill my eyes. I can’t imagine my parents not being here. “How?”

“A car wreck.”

“I’m so sorry!” I push up to my knees and turn to him. “Can… can I hug you?”

Another hard swallow. “Sure.”

I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry about your parents, Samson. So, so sorry.”

I swear, he’s crying too, but I doubt he’ll ever admit it. Instead, he just holds me tighter, like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.

Finally, after what feels like forever, we break apart. “Thanks, Stella. I… I needed that.”

“Needed what?”

“A hug.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Samson Carter.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

My smile brightens. “Because you can hug me anytime you want!”

And he did too. After that night, he hugged me every day.

Secretly, I pretended he hugged me because he loved me like I loved him, which was stupid since he started dating Caroline Arnold that very same summer.

She was pretty, with deep brown hair and green eyes. I begged Mom to let me color my hair brown after meeting her, but she wouldn’t let me.

Thank God… hindsight really is twenty-twenty.

I worried he’d forget all about me once he started dating her… that I’d go back to being tagalong instead of Luna. But that never happened.

Even when they went out together, he’d bring me something back. And at night, when Orion would sneak girls in, he never asked Caroline to come over.

Nope. He still sat outside with me.

Despite my immense dislike of Caroline, she was as sweet as could be. She was never catty or spiteful like some of the girls my brother brought home.

I still didn’t like her.

How could I when she had the one thing I wanted more than anything?

In short, it was the longest, most torturous summer of my life.

But then, one day, she just stopped coming around. I know I should have been sad for Samson, but I wasn’t. Not even a little.

In my young eyes, it was time to make my move—my heart never cared about our age difference. It just knew he was the reason for it to beat.

I dressed up in my prettiest Sunday dress, stole Mom’s red lipstick, and doused myself in her perfume. Looking back, I probably looked like a damn mess, but ever the gentleman, Samson let me down gently.

To this day, I’ve never forgotten the words he spoke to me, simultaneously breaking my heart and filling it with hope…

“Luna.” The way he rumbles my name sends butterflies swarming around my belly as I sidle up next to him on the porch swing for our Saturday night ritual. “You look…”

“Pretty?” I ask, batting my eyes up at him.

When he doesn’t answer me right away, I deflate.

Finally, he says, “You always look pretty. Every single day.”

“Really? You think so?”

He nods. “I do.”

Even at thirteen, I can tell there’s more he wants to say. And the way he’s hesitating reminds me of when I get into trouble in class and don’t want to tell Mom. Whatever he’s not saying… isn’t good.

“Just spit it out.”

He grins. “You’re so bossy.”

I glare. “It’s leadership skills.”

“Oh, is that it?” He sounds far too amused for my liking. Here I am, putting myself out there and he’s teasing me. God, boys are dumb

“Stop avoiding my question.”

“Fine.” He stands from the swing. “The lipstick… the perfume… they’re not you, Luna. You don’t need any of that shit. You’re perfect exactly the way you are.”

I’ve read in magazines that women should wear makeup for themselves and not for a man, so now I feel even sillier knowing I put this on special just for him, and he doesn’t even like it.

“You don’t like it?” I ask, swiping the back of my hand over my mouth, smearing the red lipstick as I try to rub it away.

“Listen, you asked what I thought and I’m telling you.” He leans down so we’re eye to eye. “You’re beautiful, Stella, all on your own, without a lick of makeup. All you have to do is smile, and you’re the prettiest girl in the room.”

I don’t know why, but it feels like I’m melting. “Samson…”

He takes a step back. “Stella?”

“I like you.”

He lifts a brow. “I like you too, Luna.”

“No, I like-like you.” I wrap my arms around myself. “A lot.” I want to tell him I love him, but I don’t want to freak him out.

“Oh, Stella.” He shakes his head. “You’re too young for all of that.”

I jump from the swing so quick, the chains rattle. “I am not!”

“Don’t be mad, Luna.”

“I’m not mad.” I blink up at him, tears filling my eyes. “I’m sad.”

He wraps me in a hug. “Don’t be sad either.”

“But you don’t like me back.” My voice comes out muffled from the way my cheek is pressed against his chest.