Owen took a seat on the floor when it became clear Luna wasn’t going to kick him out.
“Where did you go last night?” Luna asked.
“Where’d you go?” Owen countered.
Luna had pocketed a lie for that very occasion. “Mason and I took a weed break. Your turn.”
Luna enjoyed asking questions when she already knew the answers. It gave her a pleasant power buzz. Owen sipped his coffee and cleared his throat. More scraps of the night assembled in his mind.
“You don’t want to know,” Owen said with a mixture of pride and regret.
“Casey told me you left with Scarlet. How’d that go?”
“It wasn’t anything. We hung out,” Owen said.
“No sex, right?” said Luna.
Owen answered with silence.
“Did you sneak out of her room before she woke up?” Luna asked.
No reply.
“Dick move,” Luna said.
Owen nodded, agreeing.
“I need more sleep,” Luna said, regretfully eying her coffee on the nightstand.
“Can I stay?” said Owen. “I won’t bother you.”
“Be quiet,” said Luna.
Luna drew the covers over her head and feigned sleep. She could rarely fall into slumber when another person was around, but there were still many substances fighting to clear out of her system. She rested her eyes for ten minutes. And then for a good fifteen she was asleep. Owen read a local rag that Luna had picked up for movie showtimes. He skimmed an article about the importance of cleaning your gutters at the end of fall. Then he thought he should use his time more wisely and plucked the philosophy reader from Luna’s shelf.
An envelope slipped out. A business envelope, addressed to Luna “Grey”—last name in quotes—the original address covered with a forwarding label. The letter was opened with a neat slice across the top. A small piece of rice paper rested inside. Owen would have put the letter back if it weren’t for the quotes.
Luna heard the rustling of papers but figured he was reading the Markham Gazette. Owen checked over his shoulder, saw the slow rise and fall of Luna’s duvet. He quietly removed the paper and unfolded the sharp creases. There was no greeting or salutation, just four words written in clean box letters.
You’re going to hell.
Owen read the note again. There was no logical explanation for why Luna would save a cryptic message with the suggestion of future damnation. Nor could Owen work out a probable motive for the missive itself. An enemy? An unhinged ex? Both seemed wrong. Maybe it was a joke. An inside joke? Yes, that was it. He checked the postmark date. It was only a few months back. If he had come upon the envelope in a more innocent fashion, he would have asked Luna about it, but that was out of the question. Once, Owen had searched the outside pocket of Luna’s backpack for a pen. You would have thought he’d broken into her room and read her diary, the way she reacted.
It should be noted that Luna did not keep a diary.
There was a knock at the door—specifically, two loud and two soft knocks. Owen felt like a hammer had hit his heart. He shoved the letter back in the envelope and clamped the book shut.
“Hey, Luna, are you in there?” Mason said from the other side of the door.
Owen turned to Luna. She peered from beneath the covers and put her finger over her lips. She and Owen remained as still as possible. Mason knocked again, with the same two-loud, two-soft pattern.
“Luna, it’s Mason. You awake?”
The doorknob wiggled but didn’t budge.
“Luna, don’t worry,” Mason said, just above a whisper. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Mason shuffled away. Luna felt light-headed.
“Well, now,” Owen said, smiling broadly. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“It’s not what you think,” Luna said.
“Then what is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t vow secrecy over nothing. Come on, Luna, spill it.”
“Nothing to spill,” Luna said.
“Did you guys fool around?” Owen asked.
“No.”
“You sure? Maybe a little over-the-shirt action. You can tell me. Who am I to judge?”
“Stop it, Owen.” Luna refused to make eye contact. She got out of bed and began tidying up the already tidy room.
“We all make mistakes,” Owen said. “You were stoned and drunk. That’s the exact recipe for bad decisions.”
“I said stop.”
“Wait. Do you like him, like him?” Owen said.