chapter 3
1390 Words
Novah's POV
The gift bag slipped from my hand before I could stop it, crashing to the floor and sending the contents everywhere.
It was loud, embarrassing, and perfectly timed to ruin what little dignity I had left.
I stood frozen, unable to meet anyone's gaze. My throat burned as I swallowed the sob threatening to spill out.
I blinked back tears, but my mind was already spiraling.
Why was the Moon Goddess so cruel to me?
Why did she give me a life that seemed written only in tragedy?
My mom had died before I turned three. I never even got the chance to hear her say she loved me.
My father was alive, yes, but his love felt more like a ghost than a presence. He hated me—I was sure of it. He just didn't have the guts to say it out loud.
And then Ashton... My hopeless crush of two years. I had imagined every scenario—him asking me out, kissing me behind the bleachers, sneaking me love notes.
But no, the Moon Goddess had another twisted idea. Ashton was now my stepbrother.
What a punchline to a pathetic life.
The only stable thing I had left was Jason. But what would happen after high school? We'd go to different colleges, promise to stay in touch, and slowly fade out of each other's lives.
Phone calls would turn to texts, texts to likes on i********:, and then—nothing. He’d meet some girl who wouldn’t get why a guy and a girl were best friends, and I’d be pushed aside like some relic of the past.
“Novah, sweetie?”
The syrupy voice yanked me from my self-pity spiral.
I blinked and looked up into the gentle eyes of the woman I’d just learned was my father’s girlfriend.
She smiled, extending a hand. “I’m Camilla, and this is my son, Ashton.”
I nodded stiffly, panic and anger clashing inside me. “Hi... Camilla.”
My father's voice lashed out like a whip. “Novah!”
I jumped.
He stood at the head of the room, eyes sharp and judgmental.
“Have you learned nothing? In werewolf culture, it is disrespectful to call an elder by their name. Then again, you wouldn’t know that, would you? You didn’t have a mother to teach you any morals.”
The words slammed into me harder than anything I'd prepared for.
I stared at him, heart shredding in my chest. My lips trembled, but I said nothing. There were no words left.
Camilla's smile faltered. Ashton looked uncomfortable, but I didn’t care. I turned away, hands shaking.
“I need to take something to Jason,” I said, the lie tasting like acid in my mouth.
I didn’t wait for permission. I ran to my room, grabbed the bag I had stuffed full of gifts for Ashton—the cologne, the headset, the sketchbook, the hoodie he’d worn to school once in a different colour—and shoved it all in my arms.
I rushed outside and dumped it all into the bin.
I called a cab and directed it to the pack library.
The driver didn’t ask questions, and I didn’t offer answers. Once I got there, I made my way to the furthest corner, buried my face in my arms, and cried like my world was ending.
Because it was.
The house was silent when I finally dragged myself in, long past dinner and way too late for anyone to care. Not like they would.
My father didn’t call, didn't text,didn’t even ask if I was alive.
Typical.
I didn’t waste a second in the hallway. I went straight to my room, locked the door, and collapsed on my bed like gravity had finally won. I didn’t even have the strength to cry this time.
Not until my phone screen lit up with Jason’s name.
57 missed calls.
I stared at it in disbelief, and before I could think twice, I hit redial.
It rang once.
“Nova!” Jason’s voice exploded through the phone. “Are you okay? Where the hell did you go? I’ve been calling and texting like crazy. I even thought of asking my brother to track your number.”
I didn’t answer.
He kept going. “I’m sorry, okay? I was an i***t earlier. I was just... I don’t know, shocked. I didn’t mean to downplay what happened. Please let me make it up to you. Ice-cream? Pizza? Burgers? Milkshakes? That cinnamon roll from the bakery you love? Just say the word, I’ll get you anything. Even that weird pink soda that tastes like melted toothpaste—”
“Jason...” My voice cracked so hard I almost couldn’t get the word out.
He stopped mid-ramble. “Nova? You okay?”
I didn’t answer.
“Wait.” His voice dropped. “Why do you sound like that? Have you been crying?”
I wiped at my cheeks, voice still raw. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it does!” he fired back. “You sound like you cried a lot.”
“I did.”
Silence.
Then I whispered, “I crushed on Ashton for two years. Two damn years! And now I find out he’s my stepbrother. My father humiliated me in front of his girlfriend and her son. Threw my dead mother in my face. Jason... I can’t do this anymore.”
I could hear him breathing, and could almost feel the tension stretch across the line.
“It’s better this way, Novah,” he finally said, gently. “I mean... Come on, it’s good news, don’t you think? Now that he’s your step brother, you can finally get over him.”
My throat burned.
“Good news?” I repeated, voice rising. “Seriously, Jason?”
He hesitated. “Nova, I didn’t mean it like that—”
“You think it’s good news that my two-year-long crush just turned into my brother overnight?” I snapped. “That I had to throw the gift I got for him into the trash like garbage?”
“I just meant... you won’t waste any more time daydreaming about him, okay? It was never going to work. He didn’t even know you existed before today. And it’s best you focus on the science competition anyway—”
“Oh my Moon Goddess,” I whispered, furious. “You’re so unbelievably insensitive.”
“Novah—”
“How did we even become best friends?” I choked. “Seriously. You’ve known me all these years and still think I can just snap out of feelings like they’re a cold or a rash?”
“I’m just trying to help—”
“No, you’re trying to shut me up. And it’s working.”
Then I hung up.
The next morning, I looked like a disaster. Puffy eyes, pale skin, tangled hair. I didn’t care. I slipped out of the house before anyone could stop me. Jason’s driver was already waiting.
Jason was in the backseat when I got in.
“Novah—”
I stared out the window.
“Come on, talk to me.”
Silence.
He sighed but didn’t push further.
We got to school. I stepped out before him, head low. People were whispering. The video was still spreading, and it wasn’t hard to guess what it was about.
Loveth and her minions found me before the bell rang saying horrible things to me. I clenched my fists, blinking back tears.
I rushed past them, heart racing. My eyes burned again, but I wouldn’t cry. Not here.
The first class was a blur. I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was a whirlwind of pain, humiliation, and fear.
“Novah?” the teacher called. “What's the answer to the equation on the screen?”
I looked up, mouth opening—but nothing came.
She frowned.
I looked down, ashamed. I couldn’t even answer a question I knew by heart.
After the lesson, I was packing my things when a shadow loomed over me.
Ashton.
He dropped a wrapped sandwich on my desk.
“You left without me,” he said, his voice low but not angry. “And you didn’t eat breakfast. You’re lucky Mom didn’t find out. She’d have shouted your head off.”
- Writer
