Maybe it is. My weight was one of the reasons I got picked on during my school days, here in Destiny. But I haven’t been eating because coming back stressed me so much, so good thing? Not sure.
And I’m still me. No thigh gap. No slender limbs and curves in the right places. No big eyes and pouty lips like the girls in the magazines or the popular girls at school.
School is over, I remind myself. Finished. Done with. You are free.
I roll that around in my mind as Dena shows me the ropes. I’ve worked in diners in these past three years, on and off, to get some pocket money, so I don’t need that much guidance.
Real life outside school is different. It has to be. I have to believe it. Luna the frightened unpopular girl is gone, too. Now I am the new Luna, and like the new moon I am in darkness until I reveal myself, reborn.
Hey, it sounds good in theory, all right? It gives me a plan, a purpose. I can do this. Be the new me who isn’t so shy and insecure, who doesn’t go red when someone laughs or points at her. I am good enough. I need to believe it.
Who cares if I’m not all that pretty? I’ve brains, and smarts, and I will make something of my life.
Once I get through this Summer, that is. And save some money. And decide what I do next.
My cousin says I should get a degree, maybe in web design and graphics. Move to a city, get a good job in a company. That I can do it.
My thoughts return to Ross and what my dad and Josh said about him.
That he’s still here. Hanging around. That his dad attacked him.
That’s so screwed up.
Worse still, why can’t I get him out of my mind? It’s hard to stop thinking about him. Not only because he taunted and tormented me—but also because he was the sexiest, hottest guy in school.
And the world, probably.
What a pity he’s such an asshole.
Chapter Two
Ross
“Wanna go someplace quiet, handsome?” she whispers. “Get to know me better?”
I’m sitting on the steps outside the town’s only worth-mentioning bar, a bottle of Vodka in one hand and a nameless chick beside me. Blond, damn persistent, and a pain in the ass. Cute, though. Hey, I haven’t turned into a hermit just yet.
But I don’t feel it tonight. I don’t fucking feel anything. Anything good, anyway.
“Come on...” she whines, inching closer and rubbing her cheek on my arm. “Come home with me. You know you want it.”
She smells of cheap beer and perfume, and my dick sits up and takes notice, ignoring my fucked-up brain.
Which annoys me even more.
“Okay, are you fucking stupid,” I mutter, “or new in town? Go away.”
She giggles. “You’re funny.”
Am I now? Not something I hear every day, let me tell you. Girl’s drunk to the gills, that’s what’s going on, just like me.
Could be the reason why she’s acting like that. Nobody in their right mind would wanna take me home. I’m unshaven, my hair falling in my eyes is greasy, my cheeks hollow. I look like shit and I don’t give a fuck.
Doesn’t mean there aren’t chicks that still want
me. Quite a few, in fact.
And I’ve given it to them hard, now and then. Rough. Violent. Sometimes they get off on it. Sometimes they slap me in the face. Mostly, if I’m not too shitfaced, I make sure they have their pleasure.