°°°

When the photos from Luna come through, I'm sprawled on my bed, half-buried in textbooks, with my dad's voice echoing from down the hall.

He's on one of his evening calls, speaking too loudly like always, a tone that borders on impatient, even for business.

I roll my eyes at the sound, but then I catch sight of the images on my screen, and a smile slips from my lips.

Luna's name blinks beside the photos, and my stomach flips.

There's no message, no "hope you like these" or "thought you'd want them."

Just the pictures, waiting there, and it makes me smile, the kind that I'd never let anyone catch on my face.

I let myself stare at them a little longer.

They're good-she's good.

The way she catches people off guard, even me. I'm still staring at the screen when I type out a reply:

Me: I've got things to say about these, but not through text. You'll need to meet me in person to hear it.

I hit send. It's impulsive, but so is she, even if she doesn't see it yet. And maybe I'm more impulsive around her, too.

The door swings open, and Dad steps in without knocking, which is typical. His eyes narrow at the mess of books and papers scattered across my bed.

"How's studying coming along?" he asks, like it's a test.

"Fine," I say, shoving my phone under a pillow.

"You know college applications are coming up," he adds, crossing his arms like he's delivering some grand revelation. "We're not wasting money on anything below Ivy League."

I bite my tongue, nodding along to keep him off my back. "Got it, Dad."

He stares at me for a second, like he's waiting for me to slip up, and finally leaves, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.

The minute he's gone, I grab my phone again, pulling up Luna's pictures one more time. Just seeing them helps me forget Dad for a few seconds.

°°°

The next morning, there's a little more bounce in my step than usual.

I don't even care if anyone notices.

I glide through the halls, ignoring the usual buzzing of chatter around me, barely paying attention to Sarah and Meg who walk beside me.

I'm scanning the crowd, looking for her, and I don't stop until I spot her by her locker.

Her head's down, organizing her books, and the way her hair falls across her face makes me smile. She's wearing this oversized sweater that makes her look cute and her camera bag is propped on her hip.

I make my way over, nudging her shoulder lightly.

"Hey, Pretty."

She looks up, surprised but smiling, and there's that soft flush on her cheeks. I haven't shockingly come to love catching it on her.

She blushes so easily; it's like her own secret language. I lean against the locker beside her, arms crossed casually, like my heart isn't pounding just from being this close to her.

"I got your photos last night," I say, letting my gaze linger just long enough to keep her guessing. "I have a lot of thoughts about them, actually."

"First of all, the name is Luna, secondly oh?" Her eyes widen sarcastically. "Good things, I hope?"

"Maybe," I say, shrugging nonchalantly. "But I like pretty more than Luna."

Luna shrugs. "Whatever,just tell me."

"Ah." I slow my pace, drawing out the moment. "About that."

"Naomi." She stops walking, crossing her arms. I can't help but hold in a chuckle at how her face is right now. "You said you had thoughts about my photos."

"Oh, I have many thoughts." I step closer, into her space. "But I'll only share them if you agree to let me take you somewhere after school."

Her eyes narrow at me. "Where?"

"The pier." When she hesitates, I add before she rejects me again, "Come on, it's fifteen minutes away. They have an ancient Ferris wheel. Don't you want to ride? Do you like riding?"

I don't mean for that to be so dirty but in my head it is and I feel like I should be the one dissapearing.

"I don't know..." But I can see her resolve wavering. I breathe. "It's a school night."

"We'll be back by six." I lean in, lowering my voice and enjoying how wonderful she smells. "Unless you're scared of heights?"

"I am not!" She huffs, and god, she's cute when she does that. "But this better be worth it...and good."

"Trust me," I say, even though trusting me is probably the last thing she should do. I don't even trust myself.

"Your photos deserve more than a text message response. They're..." I trail off, remembering how it felt to see myself through her lens. "They're something..."

The warning bell rings, and we start walking again. Our hands brush, and she is first to pull away and tuck hers in the pockets.

I notice the blush on her cheeks.

"So," she says after a moment, "I hope you don't tell your friends this will be a date."

"Depends." I glance at her sideways. "Do you want it to be?"

"Absolutely not."

I nod, words could betray me so I just nod.

"Will there be Cotton candy?" She breaks the silence again.

"All the cotton candy you can eat."

"And you'll tell me what you really think about my photos?"

"Every single thought."

"Okay," she says softly.

"Okay?"

Then she disappears into her classroom without any word. With probably the most ridiculous smile on my face.

I don't care that Dad will lose it when I'm late for dinner. I don't care that this whole going cat and mouse dating thing is rapidly becoming anything something I really want. I don't care about College or expectations or anything

Because in a few hours, I'm taking Luna Carter on a date even if she doesn't want to acknowledge it.

I just hope I don't disappoint her.