Blue Moon Page 7

"Omigod, you are so funny!" Haven says, leaning forward and briefly touching the new guy's hand. Smiling in a way that makes it clear her new boyfriend, Josh, her self-proclaimed soul mate, has been temporarily forgotten. "Too bad you missed it, Ever, he's so hysterical Miles even forgot to obsess on his zit!"

"Thanks for the reminder." Miles scowls, his finger seeking the spot on his chin—only it's no longer there.

His eyes go wide, looking to each of us for confirmation that his mammoth-sized zit, the bane of this morning's existence, really is gone. And I can't help but wonder if its sudden disappearance is because of me, because of when I touched it this morning, back in the parking lot. Which would mean I really do have magical healing abilities.

But just after I think it, the new guy says, "Told you it'd work. Stuffs brilliant. Keep the rest in case it returns."

And I narrow my gaze, wondering how he could'vehad enough time to intervene on Miles's complexion issues when it's the first I've yet to see of him.

"I gave him some salve," he says, turning toward me.

"Miles and I are in homeroom together. I'm Roman, by the way." I look at him, taking in the bright yellow aura that swirls all around him, its edges extended, beckoning, like a friendly group hug. But when I take in his deep navy blue eyes, tanned skin, blond tousled hair, and casual clothes with just the right amount of hipster chic—despite his good looks, my first reaction is to run away. Even when he flashes me one of those languid, easy, make-your-heart-swoon kind of smiles, I'm so on edge, I can't seem to return it.

"And you must be Ever," he says, retracting his hand, the one I hadn't even noticed was extended and waiting to be shaken until he pulled it away.

I glance at Haven who's clearly horrified by my rudeness, then over at Miles who is too busy mirror gazing to notice my faux pas. But when Damen reaches under the table and squeezes my knee, I clear my throat, look at Roman, and say, "Urn, yeah, I'm Ever." And even though he shoots me that smile again, it still doesn't work. It just makes my stomach go all jumpy and queasy.

"Seems we have a lot in common," he says, though I can't imagine what that could possibly be. "I sat two rows behind you in history. And the way you were struggling, I couldn't help but think, well there's a girl who hates history almost as much as I do."

"I don't hate history," I say, only it comes out too quickly, too defensively, my voice containing a sharp abrasive edge that makes everyone stare. So I glance at Damen, looking for confirmation, sure I can't be the only one who feels the unsettled stream of energy that starts with Roman and flows right to me. But he just shrugs and sips his red drink as though everything's perfectly normal and he hasn't noticed a thing. So I turn back to Roman and delve into his mind, eavesdropping on a steady stream of harmless thoughts that while slightly juvenile for sure, are basically benign. Which pretty much means the problem is mine.

"Really?" Roman raises his brows and leans toward me. "All that delving into the past, exploring all those long-ago places and dates, examining the lives of people who lived centuries before and bear absolutely no relevance now—that doesn't bother you? Or bore you to death?"

Only when those people, places, and dates involve my boyfriend and Ms six hundred years of carousing! But I only think it. I don't say it. Instead, I just shrug and say, "I did fine. In fact, it was easy. I aced it."

He nods, his eyes grazing over me, not missing an inch. "Good to know." He smiles. "Munoz is giving me the weekend to catch up, perhaps you can tutor me?"

I glance at Haven, watching as her eyes grow dark and her aura turns a jealous puke green, then at Miles who's moved on from his zit and is now texting Holt, and then I look at Damen who's oblivious to us both, his gaze far away, focused on something I can't see. And even though I know I'm being ridiculous, that everyone else seems to like him and I should do what I can to help, I just shrug when I say, "Oh, I'm sure that's not necessary. You don't need me."

Unable to ignore the prick of my skin and the ping in my stomach when his eyes meet mine—revealing a set of flawless white teeth when he says, "Nice of you to give me the benefit of the doubt, Ever. Though I'm not sure you should."

Chapter Five

"What's up with you and the new kid?" Haven asks, lagging behind as everyone else heads for class.

"Nothing." I shake off her hand and forge straight ahead, her energy streaming right through me as I watch Roman, Miles, and Damen laugh and carry on as though they're old friends.

"Please." She rolls her eyes. "It's so obvious you don't like him."

"That's ridiculous," I say, my eyes focused on Damen, my gorgeous and glorious boyfriend/soul mate/eternal partner/cohort (I really need to find the right word) who's barely spoken to me since this morning in English. And I'm hoping it's not because of the reason I think—because of my behavior yesterday and my refusal to commit to this weekend.

"I'm totally serious." She looks at me. "It's like—it's like you hate new people or something." Which happened to come out much kinder than the actual words in her head.

I press my lips together and stare straight ahead, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. But she just peers at me, hand on one hip, heavily made-up eyes squinting from under the Earning red stripe in her bangs. "Because if I remember right, and we both know I do, you hated Damen when he first came to this school."

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