Mark of the Moon.
My first mistake had been re-noticing people in my classes, if I hadn’t done that; I wouldn’t have re-noticed Tristan Everdeen. I should have known that the moment I had become entranced in those eyes of his—silver, deep, contemplative—that things never would be the same. But of course, I didn’t. Because since when does life let you off the hook and just allow you to know those kind of things?