Prologue
Luna
Ten Years Old
The grass tickled my ankles as we ran through the yard and giggled. My best friend Easton came over, and as usual, he was being annoying and wanting to play tag, only every time he tagged me, he never stopped tagging me, and it ended up being a game of chase.
“I’m going to get you,” Easton laughed as he ran after me around the yard.
I screamed when he almost got to me, pumping my legs quicker to get away from him. He was so fast. “Easton, stop it! I’m getting a cramp!” It was hot out, and my face was burning up. I needed a break.
“Okay, time out. Water break,” he said as we slowed down and came to a complete stop. The wind finally blew and it felt good, drying my sticky skin.
“Thanks, Easton. I can never outrun you.” I skipped to the porch and sat down on one of the steps, the one where Easton and I wrote in permanent marker that we would be best friends forever. We had been inseparable ever since kindergarten, and I just knew nothing could tear us apart.
We pinky promised each other.
“Here you go, Moon,” he said, calling me the nickname he gave me when we first met and he found out my name meant moon. I took the small bottle of water from him and unscrewed the cap, drinking it until my brain hurt from the cold water.
I hissed, pressing my hand against my head. “Ow, brain freeze!”
“Put your tongue on the roof of your mouth,” he told me in a hurry.
I did as he said, and in a few seconds, it worked. I perked up, happy when it no longer hurt. “Wow, that really worked.”
“You know I always have your back, Moon.”
“I know.” I laid my head on his shoulder as we waited for our lungs to calm down. Easton was cute, and I secretly had a crush on him, but no one was allowed to know, not even Easton. I was too afraid.
“Kids, you have ten minutes before you need to come inside for dinner!” my mom yelled out the kitchen window like she always did.
“Aw man,” Easton pouted like a big baby.
“Maybe they will let us have a sleepover!” I gasped, suddenly excited to build forts and tell ghost stories. Easton always had the best ghost stories.
“You think so? You need to ask your mom.”
I looked at him with big eyes and shook my head. “No way. She likes you more. You ask her!” I said. “She always says yes to you.”
“She does not,” he argued with me.
“Does too, Easton!” I stomped my foot and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him in a way that told him I would win this fight. I always do.