Diary of a Runaway (BOOK #3)

The It Couple

Jane

       "When's the last time you went to high school?" Luke asked me the night before our first day.

"Twenty-eight years ago," I told him.

Luke's lips quirked to the side. "My dad always told me to be careful around the older women. Said they were always after something. And with eyes like mine, they wouldn't be able to turn away."

If human blood ran through my veins, it would surely rush to my cheeks. Then I remembered how Jacqueline told me to be careful—I couldn't feel for the Luke the way I so truly wanted. I couldn't let myself down all over again.

But I also couldn't help it.

He made me feel new. Like my past was just that. Like I wanted to be better.

We stood in our second period class together—Home Economics—already being assigned partners after Luke's leave of absence and my most recent arrival. The teacher Mrs. McClenaghan handed out recipes to blueberry muffins and immediately put us to work.

"Ugh," I groaned, wiping the batter from my hands. "How do you humans stand this?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "You are the one who drains the blood from living creatures. Trust me, these will smell amazing once they get cooking."

"Whatever you say."

I tried scooping the batter into the little paper cups, but the substance dripped everywhere except where it was supposed to go. I wiped my forehead in frustration. Why did humans do this to themselves? Whatever happened to living off of the land? Or at least pre-packaged, microwaveable dishes.

"Here," Luke said, reaching for the spoon. "Let me help."

His hand wrapped around mine, guiding me. If my heart still beat, it would be fluttering wildly in my chest right now. I felt my own breath catch and the quickening heartbeat behind me where he stood. I bit my lip, trying to hide the hint of a smile trying to break through.

"Have you really never made muffins before?" he asked me. "You're not that old."

"I'm British."

He raised an eyebrow. "What? The Brits don't bake?"

"Not this one," I told him. "My mother had always been more of a frozen meal kind of person. Or whatever the easy recipe seemed fit. Truthfully, she was never much of a housewife. She much preferred business hours to family time."

His hand squeezed slightly around mine. "I can relate."

I swallowed uneasily. How did I find myself around him so much but I knew so little?

"You know what," he said, letting go of my hand as I got the hang of the pouring. "I think that's the first time you've ever really talked about your life before the whole, you know, vampire thing with me. Your family and all. Funny, I don't know much about you, but...I feel like I do. I feel like everything that happened before doesn't really matter anymore." He shoved his hands in his pockets—a nervous gesture. "Maybe it's just me, but—"

"No," I interjected. "It's not just you. I've been thinking the same thing."

He stared down at the countertop, lowering his voice and eyes. "For so many years, I've been caught up in this girl—someone who would never feel the same way about me. Someone I never had a chance with. I completely changed myself for her—because I thought that was what she wanted. But then she still said no. You know, the day Ava changed she admitted something to me. She told me she wanted to see me happy, but I couldn't possibly find that with her. I barely remember it all, but I remember her mentioning she would find someone for me. Someone 'bold and blonde'."