Chapter 2:  

I thought about what I needed to do before tomorrow, since teachers loved to assign the biggest load of homework over the weekend. I hadn’t remembered to do any of it, and it wasn’t like I could finish it all now, but when both your parents are teachers you do have access to vital information and homework assistance. Still, I wouldn’t be able to get it all done. On my way into the house I started thinking up believable excuses to use on my teachers tomorrow that didn’t involve forgetting. I could say I was sick, but I might feel guilty lying. “Hey, honey. How was your day out?” dad asked, from the kichen. “We had a great time with Jacob and April. how‘d it go with you?” I didn’t want to make a scene, so I tried to keep a low profile. Why wouldn’t I? I didn’t even know if Avery liked me that much. It wasn’t important enough for anyone to know anything yet. “it was good. Avery's pretty....unique.” I shrugged, awkwardly. “it was...fun.” I paused. “yeah, it was good.” thankfully, mom and dad spent the most of dinner talking about Jacob, April, and Kelsey, so I didn’t have to say anything about what happened with Avery and I.  Even I wasn‘t sure what happened, yet. All I knew was that it was good. It was, maybe, a little more than good. “You know, Jacob’s actually an astronomer. It was pretty interesting to hear him talk about all this star stuff. Did Avery talk about any of that at all?” I almost laughed at the question, thinking about what Jacob must’ve said and the way Avery and I talked about it. “a little.” was all I said, though. I walked around with my head down the rest of the night, since I couldn‘t get my face to stop reddening. That night I went to bed, early and woke up at five thirty. After eating breakfast, gathered my stuff, waved by to mom and dad, and set out on my way. I was, driving for two minutes when I realized my gas was low.  It was still pitch black out, and while I understood the reason lots of people were afraid of gas stations in the dark, I didn’t consider myself to be one of them. It didn’t mean I wasn’t cautious. It only meant I didn’t have any fear to waste. When my tank was full, I suddenly became aware of my thirst. I didn’t bring my water bottle today, so grabbing my wallet, I headed for the mini mart. The windows were newly smudged with grime and the tile was covered with an assortment of shapes imprinted in dried mud. I walked back to where the refrigerator was and grabbed a bottle of water. When I looked over to my left, I couldn’t believe it. It was Avery. “Avery. No way.”  I said, barely aware of his presence. The refrigerator door shut. “Sophia. Hey. What‘s up?” he asked. He was crouched down in front of the candy bars. “I was just....I was just going to school. What...what are you doing here? I asked. “What am I doing here? What kind of question is that? I’m getting a milky way, of course. I walked three miles to get here. We only have one car and my mom took it to her meeting this morning.”  he laughed, painfully. “You walked three miles just for a candy bar?” I asked him. “Just a candy bar? Ouch.” he plucked two from the shelf and examined them. “no. This is not just a candy bar. It's the entire solar system.” he stood up and smiled. I laughed, but secretly all I felt was dread. It was too, early for me to deal with these nerves. “yeah, I’m sorry. That still sounds terrible. I...yeah. um, yeah, let me pay for your candy bar. It's...clearly, you haven’t had an easy morning. It’s the least I can do.” I held onto my water bottle like it was my life. “No, you shouldn’t do that, Sophia. Here, I should pay for your water. I’ve caused enough trouble with my nonsense.” he offered. “what, no. You don’t have nonsense, Avery. And you haven’t caused any trouble.” I held out my hand and waited. “No. You shouldn’t have to do that. If I had to deal with me, I’d want someone paying for my water. Believe me. I know that you’re perfectly capable of paying for it yourself but-” quickly, I snatched the candy bars  out of hand and got a good hold on it. After rolling his eyes he finally gave in and let me pay for it. When he noticed my electric car, on our way out the door, he couldn’t take his eyes off it. “nice car.” he smiled, pointing. “thanks.” I glanced at him, trying to stop from shaking. “enjoy.” I shrugged, handing him his candy bar. “well, don’t you think we should make good use of this time? Now that we‘re here I don’t have to call you later. we can make plans now.” He pulled down the wrapper and took his first bite of the chocolate bar. “right?” I inhaled, trying to keep my heart from racing. “what did you have in mind?” I asked, thoughtfully. I pursed my lips and turned away. “Well, I usually like to have control of things but I was thinking maybe you would think of something.” he suggested. “You know, I always thought dinner was overrated. You probably have a much better idea.” he smiled. I laughed and took a minute to think. I decided on a place, pretty quickly. “I’ve got something. I’ll pick you up at seven on not this Friday becuase I have babysitting but next Friday? good?” I asked. “the day’s fine but there’s no way. I‘m totally picking you up this time.” he insisted. “Ok. are you sure?” I asked him. “of course, I’m sure. You scared of my driving?” he asked. “maybe a little.” I joked. “but until then,” I said walking over to my car.  “I’ll take you back to your hotel. Oh, and, oh wait, you already know the address.” I opened the door to the passenger, remembering yesterday and waited for him to get in. Slowly, he got in and closed the door. “Does this count as riding in a stranger’s car?” he asked me. “No idea. Don’t you trust me?” I teased. “Should I?” Avery chuckled. The light from the lamp post spilled into the car, revealing the freckles that pawed at the edges of his face. His eyes taunted me, with the look in them. I wasn’t sure whether it was sadness or brokenness, or something else but I knew I didn’t like the way they were crowded with tunnels. I tried to escape it, by changing the subject. “Hey. Quick question.” I began spontaneously. Where’d you get your name?” I asked spontaneously, pulling the car out of the gas station. “It’s an interesting story actually. My parents got married young and they didn’t have kids until three years after they were married but they fantasized about having two girls. Kelsey would be the first and Avery would be the second. So, when they had Kelsey, my sister, there was no problem. When I came around, though, my dad refused to give me a different name. I was teased in kindergarten and first grade but after that, no one really said anything. I’ve never really had any problems with the name myself. I guess it’s okay.” he looked out the window and sighed. “that’s a good thing, I guess.” I told him. “yeah, well, it could be worse, couldn’t it?” that’s what played in my head for the rest of that day, too, after finding the ten dollar bill he left in the door’s cup holder when I got out for school. I texted mom and dad about the plans with avery and they were happier than ever to hear it. So, I spent the next two weeks listening to close to nothing during school and spending the rest of my spare time trying to master the meticulous art of paddle ball. But of course, I thought about Avery the whole time and we talked for hours on end each night over the phone until two in the morning. Eventually, Friday came around and as he clock neared seven rolled Avery was pulling up onto the driveway right on time. Actually, he was early. just like I had been. he walked up to the door and introduced himself to my parents. they exchanged a couple of jokes and laughs before we headed out the door. “ok, so this is how it’s going to work. you tell me where to go and I listen.” he buckled himself in and so did I, nodding.  After we’d been driving for about ten minutes, Avery finally asked, “so, where are we going?” “It's a surprise, I told you.” I insisted.  We both looked out our windows, away from each other. I tried to tell myself to keep it together but that only made me blush more. I rolled down my window before I could start sweating. “Don’t screw up.” I thought to myself. “That’s all you have to do. Act normal.” I took a breath before I continued the conversation. “How’s your house?” I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, slowly. “It’s good. Apparently, It’s not as bad as we thought but we’re still going to have to stay here. At least, until next Friday.” “That sounds awful. Missing your third week of senior year?” I exhaled. “It’s not that bad. My high school was just built ten years ago and trust me, it could definitely be worse, but the teachers there are a handful. Still, I think the football team should’ve been able to figure out why they’re always losing, by now. The flaming iguana isn’t exactly the best mascot.” I put the car in park as he finished his sentence. “Where are-” “the grass looks tall, I know but that’s why they invented tailgating.”  avery gazed around at the empty clearing of grass. He turned around to look at the one way road, we’d driven off the side of and into the grass, and laughed freely. “It’s beautiful. It’s perfect.” “That's what I thought. I thought since you’re a writer you might have some take on it.” I forced open the trunk and sat on the edge with my legs dangling just above the tips of the grass.  “I wouldn't think of it.” He sat down next to me and stared at the sky. “You don’t see the houses do you?” I asked. “No, I don’t see any houses,” he replied. “Exactly. Because from this angle, the field looks endless. It’s not about where we are, though. It’s the way you look at it.” I smiled and let my mind wander.  “Do you ever blame your family?” I asked. “What?” he rubbed his  eye and squinted. “For leaving.” I clarified. “No, never. We left because it was dangerous. How could I blame anyone for trying to protect me? If I blame anyone I blame myself. When we were sitting in the car about to drive away, I thought about what would happen when we left. What would happen to me? It’s like I told myself to look out the car window. The car window that was forever cursed with permanent kid finger prints in the winter. Once they went on, there was no getting them off.” he  laughed.  “One more time. Just one more time before we left. I thought to myself, “no, you don’t miss this place now but you will. So, I told myself to look out the window. Look out the window at the house, just to say goodbye. I wasn’t convinced I was going to miss the place but I told myself I would so I did. I looked out the window and I still didn’t believe myself. After...eleven years I’m still not over that. I wish I hadn’t looked. I wish that my seven year old mind had never thought to think about how I’d miss it because I looked out that window not believing it and I looked out that window telling myself I’d miss it when I didn’t understand the first thing about how much. I think about something to do with that place every day. When I was fourteen, I was able to stop counting. Ever since I moved from Florida from when I was seven to when I was fourteen I counted each day that went by thinking about how, one day we’d have spent more time living in Seattle than we will have in the place I was born. Seven years later on the night of November eighth, I didn’t have to count anymore. I didn’t know the date we moved until I looked it up, though. I guess not remembering is the worst part of all and every day I hope it hurts. I hope it hurts just a little more than it did yesterday and I hope that one day it becomes so unbearable that I’ll go numb. I don’t want the pain to fade. If it does then I’ve forgotten what it was like there because it doesn’t matter what anyone tries to tell me. I’d never be able to live in peace if I remembered those seven years and in a way that’s everything I could ask for. People like to say, home is where the heart is, right? But my heart has only ever been in the sunshine state and now that I think about it, the truth is, I would’ve much rather been murdered down here than wishing I was up here.” I focused my eyes on the glare that reflected off my glasses lens in the left eye trying to distract myself from anticipating Avery's reaction. Sometimes, I’d secretly attempt to get a glimpse of rainbow. If I looked at it long enough I’d start to see floaters and my eyes would get sore but a lot of the time, I didn’t mind it. Whatever had to happen for me to get away from the world, I was down for. I didn’t say anything to him. I should’ve but I didn’t know what. “Wow. That's depressing. I’m so sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear any of that. I’m sorry. I’m ruining this date, aren’t I?” He leaned his head against the side of the car and brought my knees up to my chest. “No, never. You can’t keep it in. that’s not good for you or anyone.” I assured him. “I guess it could be kind of  important especially if we want to get to know each other. Birds and blue skies aren’t gonna hold us over forever.” he looked down at the ground, intently. “I know it sounds like the same old sob story. Moving to a new place, being all sad about it but I guess for me, it’s still more than that.” he added. “There’s no same old when it comes to grief, though.  I know it’s not like it is in all the books and movies. Some kid moves, sulks around and by the end of the book they’ve got new friends and their past is behind them. It’s more complicated than that. things hurt us. things kills us everyday, and that right there is true. The way that we don’t have to know anything, the way that you can only hurt somebody so badly when you’re young and when you do every sense of power that it held, it just goes soon after. We look for the answer’s though because, Well, it’s because we know that in the end, the things that  have the power to tear us apart the most will be the only things that have the power of saving us. I’ve learned that you can’t live in the past. You can’t spend your whole life wishing you could go back because it doesn’t change the fact that you can’t. If we lived our whole lives as naive as we used to be, we’d never be wise enough to appreciate it. And in that case there’s no use, anyway. Everything carries a price tag. Everything. But by the end every wallet is fuller than it was before we went shopping. If you’re like me you probably know all this but I, however, don’t take my own advice. I know I should but is it that wrong to pretend that the biggest thing we’ll ever have to worry about is saving the cookie dough for when we finish the ice cream? ”   I shook my hair away from my face and inhaled.  ” “No, it’s not wrong. We’re not even eighteen. We have the rest of our lives to figure it out, Avery. You’re definitely wiser than anyone I’ve met but it’s okay to admit it. We’re still kids, and that’s fine. That’s great. We have our lives ahead of us. No one gets answers to all their questions overnight. We get them by going out and living. Like we’re doing now. Together. I know how you feel. I’m a hypocrite, too. Not only that, but I have a life’s worth of regrets.   Life is always on your heels. It’s basically what you said. We know the bad things are best for us, in the end. At the moment, it seems like it could never get worse and that your life is down the drain. That everything that we’ve ever said or done, that we can’t escape it and we can pretend it never happened but when you do you realize that’s all your life was. Is it just me or do you want to erase the past. You can’t though. You can’t and it hurts, but it’s all because of how our hardships save us.” bravely, I extended my left hand and reached for Avery’s right. He looked down and took my hand.  A tear rolled down Avery's cheek and suddenly the feeling hid away somewhere deep inside of me. “Great. I’ve officially proved myself to be a loser on our first date. It wasn’t...you...I was just thinking that you want to erase the past, and I want to go back. I want to go forward and back at the same time. Maybe if forward and back were in the same direction.” he murmured, wiping the tear from his cheek. “I guess you’re right. You really think you’re a loser, though? You should see the boys that got to my school. They think they have to be all ‘manly’ to impress the girls. The only ones they end up impressing are themselves after giving one of the players on the opposing football team a black eye.” I remarked. “Anyway, do you have any pets?” he asked.  It took me a minute to process any of what he’d just said. “Nope. no pets. I wanted a dog, pug specifically, but my parents said they were too expensive to take care of. What about you?” I answered. “We have a ragamuffin cat. It’s a rarer cat breed but we got him when he was about two months old. He was originally named muffler but obviously, it’s not a very appealing name so we tried getting him to learn murphy or muffin, neither of which worked so we figured we just had to get used to the name. Here I’ll show you a picture of him. Next year I think he’s going to be...six? six..I think. Yeah.” I looked at the picture on Avery's phone of the black cat with streaks and patches of light caramel covering his body and face. His paws and the tips of his ears would’ve to be a fair shade of white if they weren’t dipped in dry mud. Even his shaggy coat didn’t cover up how chubby Muffler was. The way his short snout was positioned could’ve been mistaken for a devious smirk, but his eyes appeared as innocent as they come. his right ear flopped over covering half of that brown right eye. The left ear was standing up and the eye was blue. “He’s adorable.” I admitted. “Yep. he’s definitely something. He’s usually on my lap when I write but I bet he’s at the hotel scratching up the wall right now. He did mine last year. He tore the paint up and I still have no idea why. We had to get a painter in.  Anyway, I think we vented plenty tonight if you ask me. What time is it?” he asked. “It’s eight. The sun should be going down soon.” I said, checking my phone. “What do you think of this place? As a writer I mean.” I glanced over at him wearily. “You can’t laugh,” he smiled. “Not a chance.” I promised.  “You sure?” he said.  “I told you. I wouldn’t dare.” I answered, my ear. “Alright, well what I think of this place is….it has a story. The fireflies they’re everywhere and the sun’s starting to go down. Picture it. For a moment, I noticed that the fireflies looked like stars when they lit up. Then, it crossed my mind that there should be more stars in the day than just the sun. so, for a moment I figured I could pretend that it was morning. Sunrise. When the sun reached the horizon it wasn’t hard to convince myself. For a minute, I started to tear up. The fireflies were the stars that stayed with us in daylight. It doesn’t seem like it but if you can convince yourself that it’s morning and the fireflies come in the morning, well, right there and in that moment...you’ll know you have everything you’ll ever need. As long as the stars never leave us, we’ll be okay, right? So, what if they didn't? When the moon finally comes up, it’s like your whole day disappeared in just a couple minutes. You think that maybe you missed sunset. Maybe it slipped out of your hands. At the end of the movie, though, you're supposed to ride off into the sunset, right? It’s the best part of the movie. It’s pretty relatable, considering sometimes we regret our goodbyes. There’s no sunset because there’s not really any good parts, is there? Deep down you know you saw that sunset. you know. Part of you is honored to feel fully understood by the universe but that part of you that knows, knows you saw the sunset. Well, that part’s kind of glad that you did because maybe just maybe we’re not quite ready for the sun to rise. Sometimes I think that maybe we have no idea what’s good for us. When we navigate in the dark, our shadows don’t follow behind us. When we dance in the dark, we lose the ability to measure daylight. All we have is the...infinity. The one we choose to believe exists. To look at something two different ways in one moment, it’s like either way the wind blows, it will, and it’ll carry everything in the universe with it because everything has to leave before it finds its way back to us because it will. Eventually, it will. That’s a lot easier said than believed, though. When life consists of more than bouncy houses and cherry picking it’s like you can’t escape it.  You can’t run from the world and never come back, like you want to. You’re stuck. At the same time, though, if you waste your life being afraid of what’s outside your door, and what may or may not ever come knocking, you’ll never leave the house. That in itself is scarier than anything. That’s how people are, though. Complicated. Sometimes, you know, you see people's eyes. You know, in a non creepy way, of course. I guess what I’m trying to say is it’s pretty lonely when you realize that by the time we know what lies underneath peoples bruises, they’re scars. In a way, it’s incredible to know that there’s a world, a whole one, behind every person we see but I don’t want to say this again, in fear of it sounding dumb but,yes, my grandma, she said that.” he  stared at the sky waiting for the sunset to begin. “I wasn’t going to laugh at that. It’s beautiful.” I gave a slight smile, but the look in his eyes told me there was something beyond what I was seeing. . “You know we may be crazy but at least we’re here, right?” I smiled.  “That’s okay. We know enough about each other to be here now, don’t we? I think the sunset’s starting.” I looked up at the sky, and took a breath in. in the silence we watched the sun sail down the sky, and held each other’s hands. If we hadn’t just met I would’ve told Avery how in love with him I was. How the feeling burned a hole through my soul. I didn’t mean to overreact but I couldn’t help but feel nauseous. “I‘m really going to miss them.“ I said swallowing hard. “me too. They remind me of fate. how sometimes you fear your fate. the slits in it. But even when I do, I just look up and I know it’ll be okay, however cheesy that it. It‘s comforting, you know. We're born to write the stars. to swing from them.” I held his hand a little tighter and I felt my head spinning.  the emotion was overwhelming. I’d only known him about two weeks at this point , and I couldn’t see straight.  “You okay?” Avery asked. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” I choked. “I’m great.” he swallowed, unconvincingly. When my stomach started to sink I let go of his hand but only because I thought I might throw up. I reminded myself that I was supposed to keep it together but it wasn’t much help. “Sophia, are you sure you’re okay?” he squeezed my hand, lightly. his hand was hot and shaky but soft.  It was hard to see his face in the darkness but hearing his soothing, light, airy, voice was enough.  “Yeah, I am. I should probably be getting home, though now. It’s almost ten. Get ready to meet my parents.” I sighed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll just come in, I'll say hi and then you can drive me home. K?” “ok, but keep it short. Maybe you’ve known me for a couple weeks now, but you’re just meeting them. Be cool.” I reminded him. “I’ll try but I can’t promise anything. Alright, let’s go.” he jumped off the back of the car, and closed the trunk after me. “. He got in the car  after me  and buckled his seat belt. I started the car, and circled around the field up and back onto the road. “Windows down?” I asked. “It’d only be right.” he laughed. “It’s not possible you want to hear me talk anymore but I just have to say that after tonight I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to deserve you. Sorry, if that sounds cheesy. I mean, I’m kind of writing a romance novel. I should know better. I’m sorry.” “What are you apologizing for? You’re….you’re really amazing, avery.” I couldn’t finish my sentence before getting double vision. I almost wondered if I should be driving. There was no one but us on the road, which should’ve been a little uncomfortable but it was a free kind of loneliness. A simple, carefree kind. If I was feeling it, that meant Avery was too. “You’re dying to say something, aren’t you?” I laughed. “No, I’m not.” he lied. “What? I’m not!” I’m not sure whether it was the wind, the laughing, or both but soon tears were streaming down his face. When we’d gotten a hold of ourselves, we got back to talking. “I’ve known you two weeks. You never don’t have something to say. You can’t convince me otherwise. I’m not your sister. I like it when you talk. Now, spit it out.” I demanded. “Fine. You know, one night a couple years ago our family went to a dark sky. Kelsey came to visit. She lives in an apartment in Miami with her boyfriend. Anyway, we were all there and my grandma had come too. My mom and dad were trying to make a fire on the other side of the field. It was kind of like this one. The point is, me and her, you know, we were alone. We looked up at the stars and it was the most incredible thing. It wasn’t what people say it is. It’s incredible because, no, it wasn’t the stars. It was her. I was fourteen and I remember it like it was yesterday. It breaks my heart every day. Knowing no words in this universe would ever do that moment justice. It broke my heart that I’d never be able to give anyone else that moment. That I’d never be able to put words to it. For me, being a writer, it’s like an itch in your ear. Her eyes had reflected the stars. It was like they lived in her. I still wonder what it’s like. She was seventy nine at the time. I hated that I didn’t know what it was like to be as old as her. I wanted to be, that old, that kind of experienced. Honestly, I still do. I want somewhere to look back on. I mean, in seventy years, when all Iis said in done I want to find peace. She would always joke about how bad it was, getting old. She knew, though. She knew that it was no curse. She would marvel over every regret. Every mistake. Every accomplishment. Because she could. She still does because now, after eighty three years of her life every memory that came to her, it’s like dreaming. and to look back? She said it was the greatest gift god had ever given her. And under those stars, she looked up and she said the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard. She started to cry and I asked her what was wrong. She laughed and she said, “never take it for granted. When you look up, what do you see?” and I told her I saw the stars. She laughed at me and said, “You think that thinking like that will make you a writer? Those are stars all right. But you can’t understand a single thing in this world before you understand them. Those stars? Even they sleep. That means they dream with us. They tether us to the universe. They burn by the light of our memories and that, right there, that’s what we live for. The truth is, memories don’t last forever. But the forgotten ones burn for us. Which is why you must never fear the memories, the world, its people, or  yourself. But as long as you live for the memories, live for the stars, they’ll live for you. And one day, you’ll lie down and be at peace. Whether or not you know the meaning of life, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you never know what you were here for. What matters is that you’re here and under the stars, me and you, tonight, we’re alive and just for a second to be alone in the universe, me and you, it’s an honor.” my grandma, she was fascinated by memories. I felt like I would never be whole until I had as many as her. Like I was half a person. I guess I still kind of do. You’ll  have to meet her one day, though.  She's amazing. One thing I do know now that I didn’t at fourteen is that it’s not about words. I wish I could describe that moment to you. I always will but I know that we don’t need words to feel alive. We only need to feel. If you have that, you’ll be okay. Her friends thought she was nuts but she told me she felt bad for them because anyone who didn’t live like they were on the verge of death was missing out.” he smiled. neither of us felt the need to say anything after that and so we didn’t. We let the night sink in like it should. and that silence was needed, for the profound depth of his words to simmer. “I know I shouldn’t talk like this and I still do. It’s like I can’t stop myself.” he laughed, and took a minute before speaking again. “I’m surprised you think that since tonight’s been the best part of my week.”  I smiled, upset by how I didn’t know how to convey my honest. “even then, it has to get old after a while.” he shrugged. “How about we make a deal. do you want to see how long we can go trying to have normal conversations? Without any philosophical, quotes or discussions.” he proposed. “only if you want to” I replied.  “you think I don’t want to? please, I’d love to stop myself. it’s a deal?” he asked. “it’s a deal.” I giggled. “ok, and do you want to meet up for lunch tomorrow then? We'll have a normal lunch date conversation about, I don’t know, Christmas movies or something?” he offered. “Ok, but I’m picking you up this time?” I suggested. He punched the steering wheel and kicked his foot. “Oh, come on. My stops aren’t that bad.” the truth is they were and I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one who knew. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you don’t know.” I teased him. ”ok, really? you really want to go there? Ok. how about you try learning with a driving instructor who has one foot in the grave. I swear, that man was back from the dead. You think he had a license? I don’t think he did. He was a century too old to drive.” the lighthearted banter took us back and forth, and it felt almost as nice as his talk of his soul searching. Could he cut back a bit? Sure. But he only wanted to be honest. I was open, but man. He lived with his heart on his sleeve. And I was no fool. Even I knew that was something incredibly rare to find. Who was I to complain? Besides, It's who he was. And it’s who I was falling for the minute I laid eyes on. It might’ve been the very reason, we had some potential. It was powerful. Anything real was dangerous, and to be honest I was more scared than I’d like to admit, but I was waiting. And I was ready when he was. After all, this is what I did. Lived on the edge. And so, when lunch came around the next day we both realized it was harder than we originally thought to keep the deal of normal conversation. I kept thinking about everything he said last night about Florida. it made me see him differently for some reason, and maybe it was because it was only sinking in, now, that he actually used to live in my house. I tried to imagine Avery as a toddler, but I couldn’t picture him ever being different than he was now. We ordered and then sat in silence waiting. “So,” he tapped his fingers on the table like he couldn’t think of anything. “now, I should ask you about this whole Christmas movies thing like I said I would, but....it seems a little early. So, I’ll just ask you what kind of movies do you like to watch in general?” he asked. “romance.” I answered quickly. “Ok, that was easy.” he smiled. “I’ll have to go with that one, too.” “really? I had no idea.” I laughed. it seemed funny to me that it was only now I realized how little skills both of us had at normal conversation. After we couldn’t stand it anymore we decided to go deeper. Only not philosophical. “here. I’ve got something.” he suggested. “I tell you a good story. Okay, so you know when I got to middle school in Seattle every kid in sixth grade got a writing tip book to keep for their whole middle school career. so you know, pretentious little me thought I was above it, right, and so I refused to use it. It was completely arrogant of me, especially since we were required to use it for all our writing assignments. Now, the teachers didn’t know I was breaking the rule but for that whole year, I thought I was better than it. Then, after some summer reflection, I realized by the beginning of seventh grade that I wouldn’t use it, but for a different reason. I realized that writing it supposed to reflect who you are, and I wanted to live by that rule, so if writing reflects who I am why wouldn’t I want it to have its flaws? and I guess some things never change because there was no way I was sacrificing my philosophy for an A. even then. in high school, we got a writing tip book too, but I tossed out the first week of freshman year. Again, it’s required for every writing assignment but I don’t want their writing rules. I might learn something from it, sure, but writing should be like life. there are some things you can‘t fix. and there are some things you’re not supposed to. Besides, writing is about what’s in your soul. It's about the entirety of your being.  not about what you find in the tip book.  I’ve been writing since I was in third grade, and it started as a school assignment, but it took off. The only writing rules I’ve followed since then, have mostly been the opposite of what they teach in school. Because at the end of the day, nothing they teach really means anything. I dread going back to those awful tip book users after this all blows over. Descriptive language doesn’t move people. Humanity does. when it all comes down to it nobody wants to hear about what‘s like or as something. people want honesty. it’s like when I went on family road trips with my family. I was six. and I still remember what it felt like to close my eyes and go down these slopes in the road and then come up from them. I always wondered when we would keep going up. when we would drive right into the sun and escape the world. because with my eyes closed it was possible. and if we could fly into the sun, we’d be alright. if we could just make it up into the sky, our lives would be flawless. they don’t teach you what that means in school. They don’t teach you that that kind of stuff even matters. Because it’s a heap of garbage without descriptive language right? Whatever, though. it doesn‘t matter. all I know is that I despise those writing tip books. They suck the life out of anyone’s writing. but that’s just me and my nonsense .Anyway, next story. so you know, people like to tell me that I can make my eyes mushy, right? Don’t know what it means. Don’t want to know. but I’ve taken it as an insult mostly. because for some reason, people who know me get this idea in there heads that I’m some innocent toddler. But, I’m here to set the record straight. I’ve done plenty of bad things. I’ve said things I’ll never be able to take back and because of that I’ve hurt people. I lost friends. I’ve made mistakes, like everyone. In fact,” he began dramatically, when I was thirteen and my friend, Walter Proveli beat me in a neighborhood basketball game, I snuck out of the house and egged his house that night. The family was this close to pressing charges. The only reason they didn’t is because my parents spent weeks convincing them, and paid for the window cleaners. Well, actually it came out of my piggy bank. Boy was that thing was empty for the next year. Needless to say, after that Walter and I didn’t talk much. Or you know, at all.  I was grounded and on chore duty for the next year and half but I’m just glad that’s over. now I may have taken art class, but let me just say, eighth grade was a bad year for me.” he paused for a minute and then went on. “and I may act like a hippie sometimes but I do know that this world, it’ll rip you to shreds just to throw you into the fire, before you’re old enough to ride a bike. some people think I don’t get it but I do. I don’t live under a rock. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about but there just...you know...speculations.” he sighed. “that wasn’t philosophical was it?” he asked. “eh. I’ll let it pass.” I replied. “ok. So then, where’s your light hearted story?” he crossed his arms and laid back in his chair. “I don’t know.” I laughed. ”I can’t think of anything. I’m not a storyteller like you. all I can think of is that stupid doll story. I mean, this is going to sound super dumb but I want to go back to that doll store one of these days. It’s right by the mall, and I had twelve of them when I was eleven, right? And I wish I hadn’t gotten rid of them and all their stuff. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. But I guess that’s a good thing, isn’t it? I mean, I haven’t been through much but I know that other people have. It makes me feel a little guilty, sometimes if that makes any sense. But, you know, I’m not the strong, and I’m okay with that, it’s just that sometimes it feels wrong. To be sitting around with my far from perfect but still pretty great life, and still hurting sometimes over small things when other people out there have lost everything.” I finished. “well, I think you need to go to that doll store to cure this, then. There's no reason you should feel guilty and it sounds like the reason you do is because you care too much about other people and not enough about yourself. so, you need to go do something for yourself. Go on a doll shopping spree.” he chuckled. “are you kidding? I would never. I can’t even walk into that store. I’ll look totally out of place. What am I supposed to do? Pretend I’m shopping for someone else?” I asked. “yeah, why not? there’s nothing weird about that.” he continued. “what are you so scared of? Aren't you about living on the edge? Not three weeks ago my life was flashing before my eyes in some tropical ‘paradise’ and now you can’t walk into a doll store?” he laughed. “I mean, I could but it’s no fun to go alone. it takes at least two people to make it out of that place alive with the amount of kids in there. Trust me. You couldn’t go alone, either.” I told him, smiling. “I thought you were a babysitter. Don’t you deal with kids all the time?” he asked. “Yeah, maybe two or three at a time. Not fifty.” I laughed. “come on. You should get it.” I pushed my hair behind my ears and went on. “it’s no fun to be in there with that many kids. And I know we’re only seventeen but you know what I mean. It makes you remember.” I shrugged it off and bit my tongue, in order to keep up the normal conversation challenge. “Yeah, I never tried babysitting. Suprise, surprise, I was too scared to do it. But I kind of like kids for that reason. I mean, like, elementary schoolers. It’s what old people say about us, but they’re absent from the world the way we can’t be.” he slammed his hand down on the table as soon as he finished saying it. ”I knew it. I knew. I knew I couldn’t control it. What is wrong with me?” he ran his hands through his hair and tossed his head back. ”It’s..it’s just...it‘s sick. I mean, it’s got to be a curse or something.” he joked. “But hey. it’s only strike one. I’ve got two more times to screw up.” he said to himself. “so, anyway. Back to the very normal, typical  conversation of ours. I should probably continue with the story that tells why I became a hopeless romantic. So, from the time I was five until I was eight, for those four years, every summer my family would go to this cabin in Colorado. the same exact cabin every time. and every single time, I’d spend most of the  Um, do you have another story, yet?” he asked. I thought about it for a minute, and then I had it. “oh, yeah. Ok. So, I don’t have very many hobbies and I never really did. Not like, a big thing, like you. Like writing. Sometimes I roller skate around the neighborhood. I’ve gotten pretty good at it over the months. I went to the rink for a friend's birthday party, the beginning of last year. Since then, I don’t know. It’s just fun for me, I guess. I used to play the violin. Started in fourth grade. Everyone else at my school started in third but that year I had this weird thing going on with me. My hand was all I don’t know, messed up. That doesn’t matter, though. I joined in fourth grade and soon enough I’d memorized the different players and their different skill levels. Everyone knew Ally Zerimine was the best player. She and a couple others. Then, there were some good/average ones. Me and some kids other than them were the okay, ones who tried to pretend like we knew what we were doing so we wouldn’t embarrass ourselves. It wasn’t much use but that was okay. Last, there were the kids who, well, to put it nicely, they really put the effort into it and tried their best, but most of them...not really. They just...maybe they weren’t natural talents. I was one of the okay players but I usually just pretended like I was playing because I was always so confused. I wasn’t half bad if I practiced at home and played by myself. It was a school program and I did it all the way through eighth grade. The hardest part was playing to the speed of the group. Well, the teacher found out, the school was concerned that I’d “fall behind” when I got to the high school and made a “gentle suggestion” that I quit. Basically I was kicked out I but I moved on with my life. I guess it just wasn’t my calling. But what happened with you? The whole Florida thing, Avery. it destroyed you from the inside out. I can tell. How?” I asked sensitively. “Well, that’s a great question. I guess after we moved to Seattle I decided I wasn’t making any new friends. I was only seven, but it didn’t matter. and that went like I wanted it to for the first three or so years. But by the time I got to middle school I’d made some friends, whether I liked it or not. And so, I decided I would never put their numbers in my phone. I still had my numbers from my Florida friends but we hadn’t talked since I left. Well, they talked. I didn’t answer. Then, in high school I got a new phone. Now, I never answered those texts from those friends in Florida. But they were there. On my old phone. But not on my new one. so, when I got rid of the old phone I spent about three hours crying in my closet and keep in mind this was only two years ago. I know it‘s pathetic and it sounds even worse saying it. But it hurt. A lot. and it still does. But I’m the one who ran, right? It’s me who didn’t answer the texts. And maybe i should’ve but what different would it make? I’d still be all the way across the country. All of them would still be together like we used to be except I’d be gone and have lost time. They'd never know who I was now. They'd never really know that I turned out a writer and that I was failing math.  I still wouldn’t know who I was to them and they wouldn‘t know what they were to me? I‘d still wonder if they still think about me like I thinks about them every day and do they still miss me or have they moved on? Did those seven years mean the world to them. Or was my life’s purpose their summers day past. I don’t know. Maybe it's all dumb. but it hurts so bad and I can’t fix it. Maybe it’s wrong to think about where they are right this minute. That maybe they could be down the street, and maybe they would still feel like a lifetime away. Because maybe they are . Not once. It feels like so much is just out to get you. My point is, I’d say I understood but I hate when people say that to me. Because no one really does. Not in the way that restarts your heart. In fact, every wise word out there isn’t that wise. Thinking about other people’s pain, how they hurt, instead of you do, that doesn’t help. All it does is make you angry. Knowing that your pain is just a fraction of the rest that’s out there suddenly makes everything hard in your life feel minimized. But not in a good way. In the way, that it’s not fair that so many people are going through the same thing as you are. That your pain is the same because you have to hurt the most. You have to because your pain has to be the worst in the world. Because that’s what it seems like. And you need people to see that. You need it. And until your pain is the worst, it seems like they won’t. I mean, I still remember when the sidewalk right by your slash my house had this huge crack in it. The city was supposed to fix it, and when they did, we were going to put my name in it. You couldn’t even walk on the thing; it was so torn apart. but the city didn’t fix it, and you know, then we left. Ten years later, and tell me if I’m right or not but I bet they never fixed it did they? It's just a crack in the concrete, right?” I determined I wasn’t actually supposed to say anything, and I got the sense there was something in his voice that I hadn’t heard yet. A kind of tragic bitterness. I realized there was something one of a kind about him, then. and it was something that could’ve gone unnoticed. But Avery could do things, almost impossible to do. He could hold his words, and he could hold his silence. And maybe that made me a fall a little deeper into him. “I know what you mean about the hurt.” I started. “it’s like I said. Not a lot has happened to me in my life so, maybe it’s wrong of me to try and relate but I’m not happy, either. You know, I guess I live on the edge. Last year, I went to Italy with my friends and jumped off a 200-foot cliff into the water. It was epic, but maybe the thing about epic is that it only lasts a few seconds. And I live on the edge like everyone says because they say it’s supposed to leave you fulfilled, but I’m not happy.  And I don’t know why. Because I feel like nothing, I do will ever be enough no matter how much I want it to be. and people think I’m desperate because I’m a hopeless romantic but I’m not really. I know what I deserve. And I don’t need some guy swooping in to save the day. all I want is love. But what if that isn’t enough either? What if nothing is ever enough? What do I do, then? Because I’m scared. And it’s not enough to jump off cliffs because life is a whole lot scarier than that and nobody even told me. And I’m so mad, because I don’t know what to do and nobody even cares. I’m so hurt. And nobody does a thing. and what am I supposed to do in this world? Because I need to be creative and I don’t know how to do that but I can’t leave these worlds in my head. I need to put something into the world, somehow. I know it. I know I have to do it this way. I just don’t know how. I remember when I was seven and I went flying down this hill on my bike and I thought I was a hero for braving a cracked road. I thought the world’s greatest danger was under two tires, pink princess handlebars, and a seven-year-old girl. And I liked it that way. because nothing in this universe could’ve stopped me then. and when I was five getting all kinds of shots, I thought it was the end of the world. Everybody thinks that when those shots stop hurting you’ve learned to be brave about it, but maybe growing accustomed to the world’s pain is one of the biggest tragedies that could ever occur. Because it happens every day. it might make you strong, sure. But what if we’re not supposed to be strong?” tears started flooding my eyes and I tried my best to blink them away but they wouldn’t go. “But, whatever. it doesn’t matter.” I wiped my eyes and straightened my back. it sounded ridiculous but I didn’t know how else to say it.  “Yes, it does. It matters to you and it matters to me. Because I know what it’s like. your mind is bigger than you.” he paused and wiped his eyes too. “Besides, you admit your feelings. I learned the deeper you bury the body, the more the spirit haunts you. and we both have better things to do with our lives than run from ghosts. You'll find your passion. I can tell. But maybe we should appreciate our enemies sometimes. We’re not heroes without our villains. It's like football. You can’t win if the opposing team doesn’t lose. Maybe you, me, and the stars just need something a little more epic.” he shrugged. “You know, love is something that we’re beyond capable of feeling. It's absent to every withering description. And young love has a heartbeat of its own. it's part of life’s few immeasurable ecstasies. Now, that’s why I’m a hopeless romantic. I want someone in to hold in the dark. you know, it’s a bit of a misconception. the dark is not without light. it is only without color.”  We had sat looking at each other, but not really. We were looking in the places we took each other. The pensive tremble of the world and visceral sensation of life, slept between us. The air was thick with an unfractured silence and for a moment we were lost to the symphony of time. He knew what it was like to dream beside the epiphanies, in such pure desire of love. His smile had revealed a set of dimples, marking the edges of his mouth that illuminated the wondering, even in Avery, everything he didn’t know, that seemed to evade his reach. I could see in his eyes that he hurt, though, and I had a feeling he knew that somehow, the reverse button always left him in the same place. The one he was always worse off in. but I also had a feeling he knew that when every day was a gravity defying feat, he was a living victory. And in that thought, in that waking dream, in each other, we both found sleep. his eyes went soft and a cloud of innocence shadowed the green in his eyes I wanted him to hold me in his arms, and I wanted to be fragile with him. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. I wanted to break apart like porcelain, in our honesty and grow together like bean stocks from our fallen tears. And one day, I vowed to. Because it was our destiny. I’d rather throw myself to the wolves than walk away from him. Because he wanted it to. And after every flavored note of music, we waited for the piano strings to snap. We waited for the right moment. But destiny moved on its own time. and so, did, music.    

Chapter 3:  

He was set to leave in four days. We didn’t talk about what we were going to do. All I knew was that I wasn’t ready for him to go. A couple days ago on the phone he said to have forever would be to exhaust it’s purpose. He was right, but I didn’t care. He promised to call every day but I wondered if that would be enough. We’d spent the last couple of days fantasizing about summer break. Both of us refused to believe it was only a month ago. The topic of college came up too. And it went interestingly enough, to say the least. “But seriously, let's talk about college. Did you apply anywhere yet?” I asked, walking home from school, my phone in hand. “You go first.” he insisted. “I already told you. I applied to USF a couple days ago, and I’m going to apply to some colleges out of state, too. It's like I said. I don’t know what I want to do yet.” I finished. “Now it’s your turn.” I told him. “Ok, but what do you want me to say? I haven’t applied anywhere yet. My parents want me to go to some small university in Washington, but I haven’t decided if I’m even going to college yet. I might just....I don’t know. Why should I go, right? I’m going to be a romance novelist. It’s not like I want to sit a poorly ventilated office building eight hours, five days a week. Are you kidding? That'd about kill me.” he laughed. I tried to process it for a minute, and the only thing I could think to say was “Oh.” the silence that would follow might’ve been one of the most awkward I’d ever experienced. I know I should’ve said something better but I didn’t know what that would be. I didn’t know if I should care about it, so I didn’t know what to say. And I knew I cared about Avery, but I didn’t know what we were. I was slightly annoyed with Avery, at this point. He acted like he liked me, and like he knew I liked him back but he didn’t do anything about it. I supposed I could’ve been the one to make a move, but how would he react? Maybe it was that secretive look in his eye. The one that kept haunting me for reasons I didn’t know. His eyes held a corroded strength. A war that left him with the pieces of his heart glued back together indefinitely. And maybe I was actually mad at myself for his pain and the way I couldn’t fix it. The way he wouldn’t let me in to. He blocked off a piece of his heart from seeing the light of day. I didn’t know why that would be, but I guess even people like Avery had secrets. It might’ve been more convincing had I ever known anyone like him, but no. I had not, nor might I ever. I had to admit. I was worried about his college situation. Maybe no one had warned him about the danger of no college diploma. I believed he could make it as a romance writer, it’s not like I doubted that, but maybe he wasn’t aware that the world would rip him to shreds first. I wasn’t trying to crush his dreams, and I wouldn’t ever dare to say anything. So, I tried to forget about him, and his leaving, and the stars. I was surprised we’d managed to keep our competition up this long but I kind of missed the way he talked. but that was okay for now, though. We'd both been busy thinking about more important things. I spent my nights wondering what kind of show we would put on for the stars. What we could do. and maybe it was all in my head, maybe I was making it all up from the very beginning but I could’ve sworn I saw it in his eyes, too. I could see it. The ideas were spinning in our heads just like stars. Maybe we could help them go out with a bang. After all, it was like Avery said. Love was their thing. And when Wednesday morning came, I could feel the air was different. Denser. Since I had to go to school, and Avery's flight left at 7:00 that morning, we had to agree to meet at 5:30. The sun hadn’t come up, and raindrops started to cover my window on my way over. I’d always loved it when it rained. Especially at night. It was something to fall asleep to. And you knew that even if you laid awake the whole night, unable to sleep, even when your lamp went off and you were left in the dark, you weren‘t alone. And you wouldn’t be alone, a single hour of the night.  no matter how dark it got. Something rained in Avery's eyes down onto me, and I didn’t know exactly what it was. And I’d tried not think about his leaving for the last couple of days but now it was right before me. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel about his leaving, and I didn’t know what I did, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I wasn’t leaving that boy. Not those eyes. Not him. not now. if he left I might never get to see those green eyes again. And I’d never see that face. And those thick red glasses. And his crooked teeth. And his ripe red near bleeding heart. And his incredible mind. I couldn’t lose that. I couldn’t let go. Not if I was the bravest person, on this earth and not if I was the dumbest. Because he was someone who deserved the stars. And we might’ve very well been the only people who could save them. It wasn’t to leave for fate any longer. I parked in the hotel parking lot and slammed the car door, forgetting about any kind of umbrella. I didn’t care if I got wet, At this point; it didn’t even cross my mind. I found him leaning against the front of the building. The rain didn’t seem to bother him, either. “You’re early.” he smiled.  “The sun isn’t even out yet.”  his eyes curtained a visceral sadness at his words and I knew he didn’t want him to leave either. “The stars are.” as soon as the words escaped my lips I felt more alive than I ever did. I watched almost eighteen years of my of tears, and laughter flash before my eyes.  and it was more thrilling than Italy’s cliffs. And I knew why. It was because there was a  time to be had with me and him. And a time, it would be. We didn’t know it, then, and still we were terrified. But some things were worth it. And one thing we knew was that despite whatever might happen, we’d be idiots to fight destiny. Slowly, we walked toward each other and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing his lips to mine. The rain fell like music notes. my heart stopped beating and it had to be the most exhilarating moment of my life. I couldn’t lie. In that moment, I hoped that in three thousand years we’d dance through every shadowed dream. I wanted to breathe his peace. I wanted to stop time and I wanted to hold him forever. I wanted to kiss him for the rest of my life and I wanted to die staring into his eyes. Because we might’ve been just powerful enough to save the stars.  I wanted to rock the daffodils to sleep and  when we  did I wanted them to  dream like visionaries. I felt Avery's tender hand on my cheek and I leaned into his body, my eyes closed. Neither of us pulled away for another thirty seconds and when it did end we were still breathless. “I guess it was about time, then, don’t you think?” I smiled, inches from his face. “Yeah, on day one. I thought I was waiting on you.” he blushed. “I guess I was thinking the opposite.” I laughed. “Doesn’t matter.” he shrugged. “Only this does.” he wrapped his hands around my waist and again, we kissed. Eventually, we stepped apart and looked at each other. In a different way now, of course. A better way.