The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1)

“Aura, yes! It radiates off of him like a bad smell.”

“Evelyn, that’s a horrible thing to say.”

He used to smell like the forest and now he smells like the beach.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I know he’s your friend. Or your pet project, with his diabetes stuff.”

“Yes, he’s my friend and you can’t talk about him like that. Ever.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Forgive me?” She gave me a quick hug. “Go. Invite him to the party if you want and I’ll call you later.” She air-kissed my cheek and bounced away, ponytail swinging.

I looked to where Miller sat.

He’s not my pet project or a lost cause. He’s brilliant.

I only wished everyone at school could see what I saw when I looked at him. I saw the kid who’d lived in a car too, but it’d made him more in my eyes, not less. More beautiful, stronger, braver. And he never complained but instead channeled himself through his music.

And it was high time that everyone at school knew it.

Chapter Four

“Hi, you.”

I looked up to see Violet approach. My heart thudded dully, each beat like poking an old bruise. She was so beautiful, drenched in the late summer sun. It glinted in her black hair, pulling out threads of blue. Dark blue, like her eyes that were heavier today, despite the bright smile she put on for me.

Something’s wrong.

She plopped down on the grass beside the rock I sat on.

“Hey,” I said, my insulin injection pen in hand. “Just about to shoot up. Figure I’d give the new kids something to talk about. First day of school and all.”

Vi smiled wanly. She knew I’d endured my share of stupid taunts: that I was a junkie who brazenly shot up in broad day light. Fuck the assholes if they thought I’d hide out in a bathroom to take the medicine that was keeping me alive.

I had to rotate injections all over my body so that no parts were oversaturated. Today, I rolled up the short sleeve of my T-shirt.

“Wait, let me guess your dosage,” Violet said. “For practice.”

She peered into my bag lunch: ham sandwich, a few strawberries, bag of popcorn, bottle of water.

“Looks like forty grams of carbs so…four units of insulin.”

“Correct, Dr. M,” I said and injected myself with the pen.

The pain stung, then mellowed into an ache, as I pushed the meds under my skin. When I’d returned the pen to its case, Violet handed me my lunch, though I didn’t dig in; I had to wait a few minutes for the insulin to get to work.

“How’s your first day going?” Vi asked. She narrowed her eyes at me, taking in my dark circles. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Fine. Rough night, that’s all.” I fixed her with a stern look that told her not to push it. I wasn’t in the mood to talk about Mom’s new boyfriend. “I was going to ask the same of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Vi. It’s me.”

She smiled sadly. “You must be psychic.”

“I can read your face,” I said. I have you memorized. “Your parents?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry about last night.”