The Luna

Twenty-Eight

"Well that was anticlimactic," Emily mutters as she combs through my hair, "and here I got up with the early birds to to get ready for the ball,"

Harper tosses something at her that she dodges easily, giving her a pointed look behind my head like I can't see them in the mirror. But I ignore it, instead staring at my reflection as I replay everything that I had just told them.

"I don't know what to tell you," I say finally, moving to meet Emily's eyes in the mirror, "It's what happened,"

I wonder if they can hear the disappointment in my voice. Of course, I would have loved to have given them something better, something juicier for lack of a better word. But what I want and what happens are wildly different things. My mother dying and everything that happened with Caspian-being perfect examples of this rule.

So why can't I still stop myself from being disappointed when it proves to be true?

I close my eyes counting out five breaths to try and stop the onslaught of emotions threatening to over take me. When I open them again, Emily and Harper are looking at each other, their facial features moving like they are having some sort of conversation that I can't hear.

It's getting really annoying to constantly feel left out of whatever it is that they're doing. If they have something to say, especially on this topic, they can say it in front of me. It's not like I'll be offended.

"What?" exasperation colors my voice as I look between their reflections with my eyebrows raised.

I wring my hands together, looking between them like I'm expecting them to drop bad news.What kind of bad news, I'm not sure, but there is something foreboding and ominous clinging to the air.

"What happened after that?" Harper asks slowly, reaching on top of the vanity to grab a pallet of makeup and a brush. She moves slightly in front of me, placing a soft hand under my chin, lifting my head to look at her, "it's been four days since then,"

My eyes drop to the pallet in her hands, looking at all the colors displayed in front of her. Slowly she places her brush on a green color before whispering for me to close my eyes. The silence clings to the air and I know they are waiting for me to answer and once again, I find myself wondering if I should have opted out of tonight's ball.

With everything that has happened, it just seems a much better option to instead, stay in my room under the covers. Maybe I could have borrowed a book from someone and lose myself in a fictional world instead.

I like those worlds better anyway. Whenever the drama becomes too much, I can set the book down and go back to it whenever I want. I'm not stuck living it at every moment. Instead, I gave in to Emily and Harper wanting to help me get ready.

"Haven't seen or talked to him since," I try to play nonchalant, like the fact doesn't bother me, but I know that I am lying.

It does bother me, a lot actually, and I had seen him since. The next day in fact, I walked into the kitchen and he was there. I couldn't explain it but something felt different and when our eyes met, the same butterfly feeling erupted in my stomach.

Before I could smile or even say hi, he dipped his head and walked away like he was on fire. He hasn't been within twenty feet of me since.

I tried to think about what caused this change. What I could have said or shown that would make him avoid me like the plague, but I come up blank. And that pisses me off.

Emily and Harper share another look and exasperation gets the best of me as I let out a long, over dramatic sigh, tossing my hands into the air for emphasis.