Bloodmoon

Layla- Thursday, October 22

Blood sank into the swirls of my fingertip. It was a paper cut.

I pressed it to my lips, leaning into my locker. I tugged the sleeve of my dark brown shirt over my hand to hide the tiny line of blood.

It was a normal Thursday for me—ran into a door in the morning, spilled my chocolate milk at lunch, then got a paper cut to end the day. I didn’t know why I still expected life to suddenly be nice to me one day.

“Oh—Did you see that? He winked at me!” I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of a sharp voice.

It was Arthy.

“Holy shit,” one of her friends breathed out. “He’s hot.”

I looked to my left, watching a tall, dark-haired guy walk away.

Fletcher’s Meadow never lacked attractive guys. They just never looked twice at me.

“Careful, Layla.” Arthy stepped closer, forcing my attention back towards her. “Staring too long might scare him off.”

Of course. Why would they? There were many girls worth looking at. I just wasn’t one of them.

I did have a crush though.

Jaytin.

I still caught myself looking for him in the halls sometimes, which was pathetic considering he probably didn’t even know I existed.

Suddenly, Arthy shoved me against the locker before walking off like nothing happened. I winced as my white binder slipped from the shelf, bursting open and spilling sheet music across the floor.

It hurt, but I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t dare.

I sighed and pulled my nearly empty bag off the hook before crouching to gather the scattered pages. My locker slammed shut beside me with a dull clang.

The final bell was close, but I still had Music Club rehearsal with my friends.

“Hey! Layla!” A different voice called out.

I straightened and turned around. It was Amelia.

“Hi.” I blinked at her shorter hair.

“Well? How is it?” she asked, bouncing in place.

“Wow.” I stared.

“Right?” she grinned, flipping a strand. “I feel so free. Long hair was not it for me.” Then she glanced at me again in realization. “But yours looks really good. It suits you.”

My eyebrow lifted slightly as I hugged the binder and papers closer to my chest. “Contradictory much. But thanks.”

She chuckled softly while I just smiled. I had learned long ago how to stay quiet in places like that—watching, reacting less, feeling more.

“Oh, by the way… did you hear?” Amelia tried pulling out her phone, which seemed to be jammed in her tight jeans pocket.

“What is it?” I asked.

Her fingers moved quickly across the screen as she unlocked it. I tried to look away, but the shine of her black acrylic nails kept pulling my attention back.

“Well…” She opened her email slowly, dragging out the moment. “About the audition we did…”

I waited.

“We’ve been selected to perform at a showcase in History!”

My stomach dropped.

Our band got selected to perform at History? An actual concert venue?

“You’re lying,” I said.

It was hard to believe. We had only auditioned for fun. I never thought anything would actually come of it. But History…?

Amelia squealed and grabbed my hands, practically bouncing in place.

I laughed breathlessly, still trying to catch up to the reality of it.

The bell rang sharply, cutting through the moment.

“Come on! The rest are probably waiting for us.” Amelia grabbed my hand and ran towards the Music Club.

I picked up my pace to follow her after nearly tripping over my own feet. I looked down at my dull white converse, noticing one of my laces dragging loose against the floor.

Amelia paused outside of the glass room, finally letting my hand go. She opened the door, walking in as I followed behind.

“Hey!” she said loudly.

I gave my friends a quick smile before crouching to retie my shoelace. My binder rested on the floor beside me while strands of hair slipped into my face.

“Oh hell yeah!” Jaxon threw an enthusiastic punch in the air as soon as Amelia finished sharing the exciting news.

“Okay, guys. Let’s get started on the project we began last week.” I got up with my things and walked toward the music stand. I placed the binder on it, flipping through the pages in an attempt to find the correct music sheet.

I stood with my back to the glass wall and looked up at the line my bandmates had formed. All four of them, Jaxon, Tiffany, Amelia, and Damian. We were just about to begin when Damian started motioning toward the door with wide eyes. I looked behind to see the familiar face I spent most days trying to avoid.

Arthy.

The room went quiet. All of us stared as Arthy lifted her hand in mock friendliness. Then she stepped to the door.

“I just came to say, I’m throwing a party Saturday night.” She scrutinized me from head to toe, arms crossed. “I heard you guys made it to a concert or some shit,” she said dismissively.

“It’s a concert at History, A.” Jaxon corrected, a wide smirk plastered across his face.

“Yeah. Whatever.” She lifted her hand to check her nails.

“Who told her?” Tiffany whispered.

“Rumours spread fast.” Arthy snarled.

It wasn’t a rumour, but Arthy always found a way to slip an insult in somewhere.

“Anyway. My party. You’re all invited.” She turned and walked away, her black heels clicking sharply against the floor.

I turned back around.

The room lit up instantly.

We were invited to Arthy’s party?

“Okay, we have to go.” Amelia’s eyes widened.

“Are we seriously considering going?” Tiffany asked carefully, glancing at me.

“Why not? It’s Arthy’s party,” Jaxon said. “People literally beg for invites.”

“Yeah, but…” Tiffany lowered her voice. “You know.”

Everyone went a little quiet.

I adjusted my stance, gripping my right sleeve in my fist. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. Arthy and I had never been on good terms. She made that obvious almost daily.

But… it wasn’t middle school anymore, and I doubted she invited us over just to publicly humiliate me.

Right?

Besides, it wasn’t like I wanted my friends missing out because of me. Arthy’s parties were practically legendary. Huge house. Rich parents. Loud music. Expensive drinks nobody should’ve had access to. The kind of nights people talked about for weeks afterward.

And embarrassingly enough, part of me wanted to see it too.

Maybe because nobody like Arthy had ever invited me anywhere before.

Maybe because being included felt dangerously close to being wanted.

“Okay, come on. Let’s not mess this up now.” I blinked quickly, trying not to show how distracted I had gotten.

The next hour and a half went by quickly. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the showcase news, or maybe all our rehearsals were finally paying off. Either way, practice felt lighter that afternoon.

By the time I got home, it was already ten past five.

I dropped onto my bed with my phone in hand, staring up at the ceiling.

The thought wouldn’t leave my mind.

Arthy invited me to her party?

Even replaying it in my head felt strange.

I’d spent years hearing stories about Arthy’s parties without ever imagining I’d step foot inside one. They always seemed to leave something behind in the hallways by Monday morning. Glitter on people’s sleeves. Hungover gossip. New couples. Broken friendships.

And now somehow, I was invited.

I rolled onto my side, hugging my pillow loosely.

Maybe it only happened because of the concert news. Maybe she was trying to be nice for once. Or maybe there was another reason entirely.

Whatever it was, I knew one thing.

I was going.

I had to. It was probably the only chance I was going to get.

I stared at the ceiling again, smiling before I could stop myself.

Who knew?

Maybe someone would finally look at me differently.

Someone…

Someone like Jaytin.