Page 9 of The Hunting Moon
His cheeks brighten to a satisfyingly arterial red. “So? Doesn’t mean I can’t party.”
“Itabsolutelymeans you can’t party.”
“Why are you such a jerk?”
“Why are you so annoying?”
“I’ll tell my mom if you don’t let me go.”
“Thereby proving my point.” Winnie snorts. The beginning of the obstacle course is visible now, a long stretch of muddy track zigzagging into a high-walled maze, beyond which are a series of platforms connected by ropes and swinging tires. “I don’t care if you tell your mom,” Winnie continues. “I really doubt she’ll do anything. She probably partied at my age too.”
Marcus’s blush turns into something fiery. His eyes—dark brown like Winnie’s—sink into a scowl. “Just because you’re the Girl Who Jumped doesn’t mean you can treat people badly. I liked you more before.” He sticks out his tongue, behaving like the absolute child he still is, and strides away to join two of his cronies at the starting line.
Winnie gapes after him, a combination of righteous anger and genuine hurt mingling in her stomach. Part of her wants to chase after him and demand he take the words back. But most of her knows that would only amount to immature fire fighting immature fire. So instead, she tows off her glasses and cleans them.
Scrub, scrub, scrub. Her training tee’s cotton rubs against polycarbonate.
“He’s a prick.”
Winnie’s attention snaps sideways. Coach Rosa has appeared beside her, moving silently like the hunter she is each Sunday night.
“He’s a prick,” Rosa repeats. “He’ll grow out of it though.” She pauses. Then adds, “I mean, I think he will. Probably.”
Winnie laughs and shoves her glasses back on.
“In the meantime, Winnie”—Rosa pats her shoulder—“let him eat your dust on the obstacle course. That’ll teach him not to mess with you.” She squeezes once before releasing Winnie and striding away. In mere moments, a whistle is at Rosa’s lips and she’s hollering for everyone toget in rows at the starting line!
And Winnie finds a warmth is surging up from her chest. A phoenix emerging from the burning ashes of her morning.
For four years, Marcus has been nice to Winnie in private and then an utterprickto her the instant someone else was around. She let it slide off her like water off cockatrice feathers—just like she did with all her bullies. The Casey Tuesdays and the Dante Lunedìs and the Peter Sundays and even the cryo-freezing ice queens like Erica. After all, there was nothing Winnie could do; she just had to endure her outcast punishment and serve her time.
But like Marcus said, she’s the Girl Who Jumped. She gets invited to parties now; she has a coffee named after her and gets featured on the local news. She might notofficiallybe a Luminary again as deemed by the Council, but everyone in town is welcoming her back as if she already is. There are avenues open to her that haven’t existed in four years—places she’s welcome to go and people who will not only talk to her, but actively want to.
Winnie isn’t a helpless outcast anymore.
She can use that. Sheshoulduse that.
One of the key defense mechanisms of a phoenix is to shine so brightly, their predators are temporarily stunned and unable to pursue.
At that thought—at a line from her ever-reliable Nightmare Compendium—the last of Winnie’s ashes clear away. She suddenly finds herself looking forward to the party at the old museum, because from now on things are going to be different. All the Marcuses and Caseys and Peters will eat her dust as she pulverizes them on the obstacle course.
Shecancompartmentalize. Sheisa Luminary, burning bright and stunning people so they cannot see what hides within her flames.
CHAPTER5
Winnie is so nervous that even though she knows she should try to sleep an hour or two before the twins arrive—because otherwise, tomorrow is going to suck—she just can’t seem to.
She has snuck out before. She did it barely two weeks ago for her first trial. It’s not hard, thanks to the position of Darian’s window over the roof. But that escape was for forest-related excursions; it felt virtuous, in other words. All she had to do was point to the bear banner on the back of her bedroom door and say, “I was doing it for the cause, Mom!Loyalty!”
Sneaking out to go to a party, however…
That’ll be a lot harder to explain if she gets caught.
If Mom notices Winnie’s zipped-up, stiff-backed version of herself that night, she gives no indication. She’s too excited about news she got this afternoon: “Rachel really thinks it’ll happen on Wednesday,” she says over their pizza dinner. “She really thinks we’re going to officially be back in the Luminaries on Wednesday.”
“Voes vee?” Winnie asks through a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. “Vat’s villy exciting, Ma.” She means it too, and her excitement over the party ticks up another notch.
When Mom finally goes to sleep, Winnie crawls into bed, where she stares silently at her shadowy popcorn ceiling and listens to a crow occasionally caw outside. It sounds grumpy.
