Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11)(63)

I rest my elbows on my knees, fingers scraping over my head, and I’m wondering how I got myself pinned between an Oliveira fight. One that I helped create.

“It’s a joke,” I finally say to Oscar, not caring about interrupting him this time.

He speaks in English. “Too far.”

“I didn’t—”

“My sister did.”

“I was making a point,” Joana combats. “I’m not a little girl, Oscar. I’m old enough to fuck your friend.”

“Oh my God, my ears,” Oscar shuts his eyes like his sister just murdered him.

“I think you killed your brother,” I tell her simply.

“Jack,” Joana pleads for backup within her brother-in-law. “Tell him he’s being dramatic.”

Jack hesitates. “I have a little sibling, too, Jo. Oscar helped change your diapers. You’re his kid sister. He doesn’t want to think of you and his best friend—”

“Best friend,” Oscar emphasizes to her.

“Having sex,” Jack finishes.

The thing about Oscar is he doesn’t question whether I slept with his sister or not. ‘Cause he already knows I never would.

Luna doesn’t know.

I see her wiping at her face. She’s crying…?

My heart is being torn apart. “We didn’t,” I say tightly, mostly to Luna. She’s not turning towards me though.

“Didn’t what?” the Talia lookalike asks.

I’m still speaking to Luna, even if she’s not staring over here. “I didn’t sleep with Joana.”

I think Farrow is quietly telling Luna I’m talking to her. Because after he whispers to Luna, she slowly shifts her reddened eyes onto me.

This time, I’m not looking away. “I didn’t.”

“But he could have,” Joana emphasizes this to Oscar, and while they argue again, I stand up and round the table to Luna’s side.

Maximoff is still in the seat next to her.

I nod to him. “Can I talk to your sister for a sec?”

His jaw sharpens, and I see so much of his dad in him. The dad that hates me. But Maximoff isn’t his father, and I wonder if that’d make Lo proud.

Of what I know about Loren Hale, I think it would.

“Yeah,” Maximoff says while he rises, letting me near his sister. He drills a caustic look into me before whispering, “Don’t hurt her.”

I’d rather die.

I nod, not mentioning that Jane told me the same thing. Not mentioning that I think I’ve already hurt Luna tonight and it’s already destroyed me.

With Maximoff back beside Farrow, I fill the vacant spot beside Luna. Turning in towards one another, she speaks so quietly. “No green?”

I glance at my Van Halen tee. “Nah, I didn’t…” I swallow a rising lump. “I didn’t really think about that.”

She digs in her clutch.

“Luna,” I breathe.

“It’s okay,” she croaks softly. “You can date whoever you want.”

“I’m not dating Jo,” I murmur.

Tom sees Luna more distraught. “Luna with No Middle Name, you okay?” His blue eyes flicker to me, then to her. “Luna?”

“Yeah, no, I’m alright.” She flashes a weak Vulcan salute.

“Korey sucks,” Tom tells her. “We’re all happy he’s not here anyway.”

“Blissfully,” Eliot chimes in, though neither of them ever met the douchebag. They think she’s mostly upset about Korey being a no-show.

Farrow, my lifesaver, distracts the Cobalts by asking them about Charlie’s whereabouts tonight. Only Oscar really knows, and they’re all occupied by that talk. Leaving me to speak more privately with Luna.

She studies my broken expression.

“We were just trying to fuck with Oscar,” I explain. “That’s it.” I didn’t know you’d be here to see. “It wasn’t supposed to go down like that.”

“Like what?” Luna asks, a hand still in her clutch.

“She wasn’t supposed to go in for a kiss.”

“Because she’s Oscar’s sister.”

Because she’s not you. I struggle to say the words that wail inside me.

Luna sees my conflict. “You don’t need my permission to kiss anyone else, you know.”

“I know,” I swallow.

“I knew you might kiss your date.” Her voice carries a slight tremor. “Just like…you knew I might kiss Korey.”

I nod a couple times. Why does it hurt to breathe? I slide my arm across the back of her chair. What if I only want to kiss you? “That…” I start. “…doesn’t make this situation any easier.”

She nods, then shrugs. “It’s life. Might as well color it green.” She uses her thumb to press a green star sticker on my cheek. She has a whole pack in hand.

I begin to smile, taking a sticker sheet from her. I dot stars above her neon-green painted brows. Gently, Luna presses another to my cheek, then a few more around the crease of my eye.

Her smile appears, flushing her round face.

Who knew stars have the power to heal?

“Get my eyelid,” she says.