Yet sometimes, I watched from the outside and wanted to fist-bump myself for still functioning. Staying in bed for eternity was goddamn tempting.

“Hi.”

The small voice jerked me from my thoughts. I sat upright in my bed. Mom. She was clad in a green robe that hugged her thin waist. Her face looked flush and young. Almost healthy. Happy. Like Luna after I gave her an orgasm.

Note to self: Never put your mom and orgasm in the same sentence. Even in your head.

“Yo.”

“You were early.”

“And you were busy.” I propped my chin on my knee, not giving a damn it was kind of feminine, looking up at the ceiling.

She let out a breathless laugh, pushing off the doorframe and taking a seat beside me. Her leg pressed against mine. She nudged me. It took everything in my two-hundred-pound body not to roll my eyes like a fucking Kardashian.

“How about we don’t talk about it?” I wasn’t above begging.

Was I really above anything at this point?

“Come on. I’m sure you know all about the birds and the bees.”

“Right. So we are talking about it.”

“Sex is natural.”

“Not the type Adriana Chechik taught me.”

“Adriana Chechik, the porn star?” Mom’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

“No, the astronomer. Don’t play coy now.”

She laughed, tousling my hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I arched an eyebrow.

“I’m feeling great, actually.” She chuckled. “And you? How is my son?”

“Fine,” I grumbled.

I’ve been drinking at least a bottle a day since Luna left, but fine.

“Great, great, great.”

I can’t fucking breathe without thinking about life without you.

But unloading on her would be a bitch move. Talking to Dad about it was out of the question. We both needed to cool down. He fucked my mom. With toys. Not cool.

She cupped my face and tilted my head up. Our gazes locked.

“Knight Jameson Cole, you build your walls high and thick, but I see through them. Tell me what’s bothering you. It can’t be my health, because I’m here and feeling better. Is it about a certain gray-eyed girl who flew across the country recently?”

She bunched the collar of my shirt in her fist, lowering me to her. She placed my head in her lap, threading her delicate, pale fingers through my hair, running them back and forth over my skull. Goosebumps rose all over my skin. She used to do this to me all the time when I had meltdowns as a kid. Calmed the hell out of me.

“Talk to your mama, boy,” she whispered.

My words spilled like acid, a tsunami of confessions. I told her everything: About what had happened at the dog shelter. About kissing Poppy in front of Luna. About Luna kissing Daria in front of me. About the night I’d sneaked into Moonshine’s room again (omitting the sexy parts—just because my dinner was ruined didn’t mean Mom couldn’t eat this decade, too) and about how I tried forgetting about her. About how I’d invited Poppy to our treehouse to settle the score with Luna.

“Maybe she saw you.” Mom pursed her lips.

I frowned at the wall in front of me, painted black with the Raiders’ logo on it. “Fat chance.”

“Why’s that?” Mom persisted.

“Because Luna would have flipped.”

She’d almost killed me with her glare when I’d fondled Arabella, who was about as relevant to my life as a thoroughly used condom.

“Would she? Does that sound like Luna? Flipping out on you? Especially seeing as you did nothing wrong technically, simply spent time with your girlfriend?”

Inside my girlfriend. Or that’s what it had looked like, anyway.

Mom had a point. Maybe Luna had seen. Maybe that was the deal breaker. I’d said I wouldn’t rest until we were even, but now, when she thought we were, it didn’t feel too good.

No. It didn’t feel too fucking good at all.

“Do you love her?” Mom asked seriously.

“No,” I shot out.

Yes.

Why was it so hard? Because it was pathetic? Because it was unrequited? Because I wasn’t even sure who Luna was anymore? Talking and fucking and living without me, across the country, while I was losing my mother to cystic fibrosis.

“Well, then.” Rosie threw her hands in the air on a breezy smile. “No harm done, then. We don’t need to talk about it anymore, do we?”

She was about to stand up. I straightened from her lap, sitting.

“Wait.”

“Hmm?” Her lips pursed in a victorious smile.

“I do. I love her.” I paused. “I love her, but I’m not sure I know her anymore.”

“You love her, but maybe despite growing up together, you also grew apart?”

I shook my head. No. That wasn’t it. “I can’t outgrow Luna. It’s like outgrowing your heart. Impossible. It grows with you. What do I do?” I ran my hand across my close-shaved jaw. “What the fuck do I do, Mom?”

“Well, that’s an easy one.” She smiled. “You go after her. You grovel. You win your girl back. Life’s too short not to be with the person you love.”

Going to Boon in the middle of the school year, with my mother sick, was insane. I knew that. But leaving things unfinished with Luna was, somehow, even crazier. How many hits could our friendship take before exploding like a pi?ata?