Crescent (Book 1)

+ 7 +

Breakfast sizzled on the stove, and I covered my ears just to chase away the sound. Everything throbbed, and I groaned as my father dragged his chair out.

"Elbows off the table." I knew he was talking to me, and despite my annoyance, I did as he said. The movement forced me to sit up straight, but I didn't look him in the eye. Not after the stunt I'd pulled last night.

My mother kissed his cheek- her version of a peaceful intervention- as she set a plate of steaming pancakes in front of him. She set a plate in front of me and balanced another on her arm to set down in front of Rosie. Rosie's pancake was lathered in strawberry syrup with a whipped cream smiley face on top. Her favorite. I smiled at her as she dug both of her little hands straight in.

My father cleared his throat around a swallow of food, and my eyes shut on their own accord. "You wanna tell me why you didn't come home until two this morning?"

"Matt." My mother added gently, but I shook my head at her.

It was my fault. I should have known I was going to get caught. "I'm sorry," I told him. "I didn't realize what time it was. I would have called..."

Rosie giggled loudly, and he rubbed a soothing hand down her back despite the fact that he was staring me down. Practically daring me to look at him. I didn't want to start yet another one of our arguments. "You with that Wyatt-boy again?"

I rolled my eyes and sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Wyatt is an idiot, Dad. It was just me and some friends. We were having fun at the bowling alley-"

"So, you weren't with that neighbor kid down the street either?" I froze as he said the words, knowing exactly who he was talking about. I downed the rest of my orange juice instead of answering. "What's his name again?"

My dad knew his name, but I really didn't want to tell him that I was, in fact, with Grayson. I'd known from the moment he'd tried to shake my father's hand that we weren't going to last long. He was human. Easy on the eyes, sweet in that boyish sort of way, and I'd all but decided he wasn't worth enough to warrant anything more than a casual fling within a few seconds of meeting him. Somehow, that fling happened about six times over. Last night had been just that: a drunken mistake of epic proportions. He, like Wyatt, was also an idiot.

My mother inserted for me. "Honey, you know Grayson. He's a nice boy and-"

My father laughed, chuckling as he downed his coffee. The smell alone made my head swim; he drank it the same way every morning: Black. "He's a boy, Heidi." He turned his attention back to me. "You don't even like him."

I groaned. "Why does it matter, Dad? Mom's right. He's nice, he's cute-"

Dad's voice went low. "He's human, kid."

My arms dropped limp to my sides, and I sighed again. It always came down to this: "They're dangerous. If they ever found out about us, they would give us up without a thought."

It only made me angrier that this time, he was right.

Rosie's plate shattered loudly, and I jumped up as she giggled again. She grinned, pancakes spread messily across the table cloth, but shards of her plate now decorated the ground. My parents didn't bother cleaning it up. Not when they were so focused on what I might say in reply. I used the distraction to stand up, to avoid this conversation for the hundredth time over. It always ended the same way:

"I know, Dad. 'We have to be careful.'"

Mom cleared her throat, guiding the conversation back into safer territory as she finished making faces at Rosie. I knelt beneath the table, sweeping the glass into one of my palms. "Did you hear anything back from any of the schools yet?"