That made no sense.
But my mother had asked me for one good moment.
Just one.
So I placed my hand in his.
His palm was warm.
Rough.
I felt raised skin across the center of it, a scar I had never noticed before.
He curled his fingers gently around mine, as if he expected me to pull away.
I didn’t.
The first dance was slow.
Of course it was.
The universe has a taste for cruelty.
The song was soft, something about staying when the world got dark. Caleb placed one hand carefully at my waist, leaving me room to step back if I wanted. I put one hand on his shoulder. My other hand stayed in his.
People stared.
Not subtly.
A murmur moved around the dance floor like wind through dry leaves.
I felt heat rise under my scars.
Caleb leaned slightly closer.
“Look at me,” he said.
I almost laughed.
“That’s usually the part people avoid.”
“I’m not people.”
That should have sounded arrogant.
It didn’t.
It sounded like a promise he was terrified of breaking.
So I looked at him.
His eyes were blue, but not bright. A quiet blue. Storm-water blue. There was something sad in them, something older than seventeen.
