Skates on, we walk out onto the ice. Early, early morning with Luna, the world is calm and peaceful, and we twirl around each other with good balance from years of practice and falling on our butts.
We skate in zig-zags, clasp hands, let go and laugh. We try funny maneuvers like we’re pro ice skaters. One corkscrew has Luna tumbling down, and I zip by and help her up.
Her palms are red from the ice, but she barely glances at them. “You know how I’ve been taking online college courses?”
At the University of Pennsylvania. I nod, “Yeah.”
We’ve gone still, and she tucks a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. “I’m going to take more next year.” She pulls the beanie down her face. Her entire head looks like a green alien. “But the class I want to take isn’t offered online, so I’m going to have to actually go in.” Her words come out muffled but clear enough.
Back when we were living at the townhouse, we used to hang out at the bars together near Penn, and now she’s actually going to go to Penn in the flesh.
“Are you nervous?” I ask since she’s told me she’s “resisted” doing the college lecture hall setting. Afraid it’d be too much like high school catty drama.
“Kinda. But I want to take these courses. In a way, you’ve given me the push to try.”
Something wells up in me. “Really? Me? Not Moffy or Jane?”
Luna shakes her alien head. “No. You. I know how cautious you are around the media. And despite that, you’re still holding onto the guys you love. I don’t want to be afraid of a repeat of high school. So I’m going.”
My lips part in surprise. To think that I could be a leader—that someone in the family could be inspired by me, and not for my goal-oriented, Olympic-driven spirit but something else that might define me—I go utterly fucking speechless.
Before I can say thanks or find some sort of vowels, Luna’s phone buzzes.
Pulling up her beanie, she uses face-recognition to unlock her phone.
“Orion,” Luna says in longing. “I miss his wet nose.”
I skate around Luna and peer over her shoulder. Uncle Stokes texted a pic of Luna’s 8-month-old puppy chewing a bone in his kitchen. “That was rad of Uncle Stokes to dog-sit,” I say.
Uncle Stokes is my mom’s brother-in-law. His full name is Samuel Stokes. Him and his wife, my Aunt Poppy, have stayed out of the limelight. Most fans and public don’t realize there’s actually a fourth Calloway sister and that my Aunt Rose isn’t actually the oldest.
Poppy Calloway is like the lost Jonas brother or the least recognizable Hemsworth brother. She purposefully avoids big family functions and media attention. To the point where everyone forgets she even exists, outside of a Wiki search.
But Aunt Poppy and Uncle Stokes are close enough to the fam that I could call either of them and they’d do just about anything for me.
So when Orion and Arkham got fleas the day before the lake house trip, me and my roommates decided to flea-bomb the penthouse and leave the puppies home for the holidays. Uncle Stokes planned to cat-sit for Jane anyway. After the leaks, we’ve been hesitant to let any strangers into the penthouse, including the cat sitter Jane hired.
Luna pockets her phone. “Yeah, Uncle Stokes is pretty nice. I kinda feel bad that he’s not here for Christmas.”
From what my mom told me, Uncle Stokes has been in a pressure-cooker to fix things after Fizzle’s stocks plunged. So he stayed back in Philly.
“Yeah, me…” Too. The last word sits on my tongue as voices pitch into the quiet of the morning. Luna and I spin on our skates and peer out at the lake house.
People start crowding the upper deck. I spot Moffy and Jane, then Farrow, Thatcher.
“The Seasons?” Luna says to me. “Do they look…?”
“Uneasy, yeah.”
Jane is pacing.
Luna tilts her head. “Maybe it’s the fake cheating scandal. I don’t think Jane’s public statement about the leak being false helped all too much. Thatcher is still being dragged on Twitter.”
I wince. “Fucking ugh. People need to stop attacking love. Seriously…” I plant my hands on my hips, then cross my arms. “Wait, is that Uncle Lo? And Aunt Lily…”
“And the girl squad,” Luna adds, both of us frozen on our skates. She holds up a hand to block a ray of sunshine over the mountain. “What in the Thebula is going on?”
“No fucking clue.”
We watch as more and more people pile out until the deck is packed to the very brim. Their voices are too far and too muddled together to distinguish actual syllables and words.
My heart thumps harder. “What if it’s another leak?”
Luna shakes her head. “Uh-uh. There hasn’t been a single one since we’ve been here.”