When Stars Collide (Light in the Dark 2)

We leave the restaurant and part ways, with hugs and goodbyes.

Thea takes my hand and we start down the street. Jars filled with lights hang from the trees.

She tilts her head back, smiling up at them, and the light dances across her face making her look almost angelic.

She grabs onto my arm, leaning her head against my shoulder as we stroll down the street.

Her happiness radiates off of her like a physical energy and I feel bowed by it. Her vibrancy and zest is contagious.

Things aren’t perfect, not by a long shot, but right now, in this moment, it almost feels like it is. So I take that small victory and make it mine, smiling like I own the whole world as I walk beside the girl I love.

“You talk to her.”

“No, you,” I argue with my brother.

He clenches his jaw and glares, looking from me to the closed door that once led to Xander’s room, but now has been taken over by my mom.

“You’re the girl,” he reasons.

I snort. “So? You’re the favorite.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Rae shakes her head as she walks by. “You guys sound like you’re five.”

“Stay out of this!” we yell simultaneously.

“Whoa.” Her eyes widen. “All right then.”

“You talk to her,” I hiss to Cade. “You’re older. More worldly.”

He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “We’ll both talk to her.”

I lift my chin. “That is a reasonable compromise, but you go in first.”

“Fine,” he huffs. “We’ll shake on it.”

“Deal.” I spit in my hand and hold it out. “Put it there, partner.”

Cade spits in his hand and we shake on it the way we used to as kids. When I look behind him Rae is watching us with a horrified expression. She raises her hands, shaking her head.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t watch that.” She disappears into their room.

“You first.” I nod my head at the door that separates us from our mom.

Cade sighs heavily and wraps his hand around the knob, turning it. The room is dark, like a dungeon, and I see that Xander’s black curtains are pulled over the window allowing no afternoon sunlight to slip through. One lone light on the dresser is all that’s on, providing a measly amount of light for the room.

“What’s that smell?” I pinch my nose.

Cade tilts his head this way and that trying to make heads and tails of the form buried under a mountain of blankets. “Mom?” he says hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

There’s a distant groan that I think is meant to be yes.

Cade and I exchange a look. It’s worse than we thought.

Since I’m more brazen than Cade, I stride forward and yank the covers off my mom. She cowers away like the minimal light in the room sears her skin.