07 ice cream

Luna’s POV

School’s out, and I’m packing my books, watching Max breeze out of the classroom with his new crew. He tosses jokes, the guys roaring, the girls trailing like eager puppies, giggling at every word. He’s already one of them, fitting in like he’s been here forever. Good for him. I don’t need more drama, and neither does he. Dodging him after school was the right call—sticking to phone calls for our English assignment keeps things clean, safe.

Sighing, I sling my backpack over my shoulders and trudge into the hallway. I check my phone, frowning. No text from my driver. He should’ve been here thirty minutes ago. People call me a spoiled brat, and maybe they’re not wrong. I want to drive, but I’m not ready. The thought of navigating roads, of a cat darting out, freezes me. I’d panic, pull over, and shake like a leaf. I’m not worried about my safety—it’s everyone else’s. One wrong move, and I could ruin a life. Grow up, Luna.

Lost in thought, I nearly miss the sight ahead. Rory, chatting with Mikaela and Nadine, Mikaela’s cheer-captain best friend. My heart lurches. Mikaela squeals, pulling Rory into a hug, their laughter ringing out. I pivot, taking another route before they spot me. Pain slices through me, sharp and sudden. My legs tremble, but I force them to move.

Rory and Mikaela, friends? It doesn’t add up. Rory’s feelings for Tyler were real, yet she’s laughing with his girlfriend, unbothered by their public make-out sessions, like this morning’s display. Mikaela’s done nothing to her, sure, but how can Rory stomach it? And why can she forgive Mikaela but not me? We were best friends—or I thought we were. My throat burns, a tear threatening to fall.

I’m almost at the lobby when I notice a crowd, students whispering excitedly. “He’s so hot,” one says. “Makes my knees weak,” another gushes. I push through, curious, and freeze. It’s Aiden, leaning against his black Mustang, suit crisp from his business trip. His amber eyes light up when he sees me, a grin spreading. “Surprise.”

I don’t care why he’s here—Miami, New York, whatever. My brother’s here, and that’s enough. “Aiden!” I run, not walk, and he laughs, catching me in his arms, spinning me like I’m five again. I’m laughing too, loud and free, in front of everyone. When did I last laugh like this at school?

“Why are you here?” I ask, breathless.

“Finished my meeting in Miami early, changed my flight to pick you up. Ice cream sound good?” he teases.

My mouth waters. “Ice cream?”

“Like the idea?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Love it,” I say, another laugh bubbling out. He opens the car door, bowing dramatically, and I giggle, sliding in. For a moment, the school, the stares, Rory, Mikaela—they all fade.

---

At the ice cream parlor, I’m paralyzed by the menu. “I can’t choose,” I huff, dropping it and burying my face in my hands.

Aiden chuckles across the table. “Make up your mind.”

“I really can’t.” I peek at him, defeated.

“Best two,” he prompts, smirking.

“Banana Split or Brownie Explosion,” I say, pointing at the pictures. Both look divine, and I’m stuck.

“Time’s up,” he says as the waiter approaches. He gives me a go ahead look, and I sigh, agonizing. I can’t eat both—I’d burst. “Banana Split, please,” I tell the waiter.

“Brownie Explosion,” Aiden orders, and my eyes widen. His knowing smile says he got it for me to try. Classic Aiden.

The waiter leaves, and Aiden shifts gears. “How’s school? Anything good?”

My smile fades. For a moment, I’d forgotten Rory and Mikaela’s laughter, the hallway stares. I force a grin. “Everything’s fine. Just tired from assignments.”

He sighs. “Your grades are perfect, Luna. Ease up. Have fun.”

If only he knew. I nod, resting my chin on my hands, gazing out the window at a mom with two girls heading inside. “You know Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind you hanging out after school,” he adds. “Ditch the assignments for a bit.”

I know. That’s why I linger in the music room or bookstore, delaying the empty apartment that screams my lack of friends. The waiter brings our ice cream, and I gasp. My Banana Split—vanilla, chocolate, strawberry scoops—is perfection. Aiden’s Brownie Explosion, dripping with fudge and whipped cream, looks just as tempting.

I dig in, closing my eyes as the flavors hit. Aiden teases, “I wasn’t wrong about that food commercial idea.” I pout, and he laughs, trying his own ice cream slowly, leaving most for me. I sneak a spoonful of his, grinning sheepishly. He smiles, watching me savor both.

Then, without thinking, I blurt, “Have you ever been bullied?” My spoon freezes mid-air, horror washing over me. Aiden frowns, and I scramble to cover. “I read this biography for my English assignment. The guy was bullied before fame. Just… what do you think?”

He exhales, relief in his eyes. “You scared me there.” My heart pounds, hands sweaty. “Bullying’s unacceptable,” he says, voice hard. “I can’t imagine it happening to you. I’d lose it.”

I laugh, waving my spoon to play it off. “Never happen to me. Ever.”

“Good.” He cracks his knuckles, scoffing. “You don’t want to know what I’d do. Like breaking their necks.”

I swallow, whispering, “Like what?”

He leans forward, eyes fierce. “Exactly that.” His protectiveness warms me, but it also twists the knife. If he knew the truth—about the whispers, the “Loony Luna” taunts, Rory’s betrayal—he’d tear this school apart. I can’t let him know. Not ever.