The Rule Breaker

"He does have pretty eyes," I say.

"And tall. Straight girls are obsessed with that," Divya says.

"Only straight girls?" Allison challenges her.

I think Divya blushes, but I'm not sure.

Whatever it is—"Too much information."

"It was him?" Allison asks. "Oliver, isn't it?"

I nod.

"I told you she liked him," Allison says.

"I never doubted she liked him," Divya says. "He's very handsome."

"She isn't shallow," Allison says.

"She's eighteen and he's a tattoo artist," Divya says.

"Ah, like mother like daughter?" Allison teases her again.

"Aren't you supposed to be comforting me?" I ask. "Not flirting."

Allison smiles. "You're right."

"But you should have seen your mother in college," Divya says. "She wore that leather jacket."

"You've never worn a leather jacket," I say.

Allison nods I did. "I'll find it. Leave it in your room. If you're ready to come home."

"No… I think… I think I need my own space," I say. "My own place. If I can afford it."

Allison nods.

"But… I want to keep something. If you really are friends. If you're really okay. Brunch. Can we still have brunch?" I ask.

They exchange a look. Nod, yes, of course.

"It's Sunday," Allison says.

"But the restaurant isn't open for another two hours." Divya finishes her chai. Sits across from me. "Now. Tell me. What happened with Oliver?"

"You can call him by name?" I ask. "And not by eye-color or job title?"

Divya chuckles.

I don't even know how to explain. I don't know why he ran off, but I know he did. "He ended things. But I… I don't know if he really wanted to. Or if he was overwhelmed by seeing Daisy. Or by Holden realizing it. I think he realized it a while ago. But maybe Oliver didn't—"

"Baby girl, slow down," Divya says. "Start at the beginning."

"You're going to give me advice?" I ask.

"If you want," she says. "Or I can listen and make more coffee and fix chocolate chip pancakes."

Like when I was little.

Maybe…

Maybe this is okay.

I take my last sip and I start at the beginning.

Through three cups of coffee, I spill the details. Staying with Oliver. Finding comfort in his steady presence. Even running into Sean, pretending we were an item.

And falling for his honesty and his strength and his heart.

And the look in his eyes when he told me it was over. Like he couldn't stand that things had to be this way.

Maybe they don't.

Maybe he'll see that.

But I can't do it for him.

When I run out of story, tears, energy, I climb into my bed, close my eyes, fall asleep.

A few hours later, a knock wakes me.

"Luna, your friend is here to say goodbye," Divya says.

Right. Daisy is leaving. It's still light out. But maybe her ride changed the timeline. Or maybe…

"Okay. Tell her I'll be five." I change into the first thing I find—a simple black sweater dress and boots—then I pee, wash my hands, wash my face, brush my teeth.

Move downstairs.

Only it's not Daisy waiting at the door.

It's Oliver.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Luna

He's too handsome.

Even with dark circles and weary eyes.

He's still so tall and broad and safe.

"Hey." He runs his hand through his short hair. "I, uh… can I have a minute?"

I look to Mom. Nod it's okay. Step outside. "Only one."

"Fair." He slips his hand into his front pocket. Waits for me to pull the door closed. Move onto the front step. "I'm guessing you don't want to hear I'm sorry again."

"It depends what you say after."

"I am sorry," he says. "For getting scared. For running away. For leaving you at that fucking party by yourself."

"Was that it? The party?"

"Part of it." His eyes fix on mine. "It's complicated."

Is it? Or is it simple? He left.

I pull my hands over my chest. Rub my upper arms. It's a cloudy afternoon. Cool. Or maybe it's my body begging for his warmth.

Oliver slips his leather jacket off his shoulders. Slings it over mine.

"Thanks." I pull it tighter.

"I, uh, I was going to wait for this part, but since we're here—" He holds out his left arm.

Part is covered in plastic.

A fresh tattoo.

An addition to his Latin quote.

ex favilla nos resurgemus

From the ashes, we rise.

The same thin black words.

And a crescent moon.

"Oliver…" My hands go to his skin reflexively. "You…"

"Yeah."

"For me?"

He nods.

"But… what if I tell you to fuck off?"

"Oh, it's temp. I'll just wash it off."

"Really?"

He chuckles. "No. I called Holden. Did it first thing."

My fingers brush the plastic wrap. "Can I?"

He nods yeah.

I unwrap. Run my finger over the familiar letters. The moon. "It's beautiful."

"I thought about a wild fire. Because that is you. You're a force of nature. Strong and beautiful and dangerous."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Let me finish."

I shake my head. "You used your minute."

"This didn't buy me another?"

I can't help but laugh. "Maybe five."

"That's it?"

I nod. "Go bigger if you want more."

"Okay. Five minutes." He takes my hand. Looks into my eyes. "I better cut to the point."