Shoot Down The Stars (The Stars Duet 1)

“What the fuck?” Kevin asks as he stands up. He looks down at me with confusion in his eyes.

I can see the worst running through his head again. He must think I lied to him about David being just my friend.

David's steps are heavy and determined as he squares off in front of Kevin. I always saw David as tall—and regarding height, he is slightly taller—but when compared to Kevin's overall size, he seems small. I leap from the couch and put myself between them.

“David, chill the fuck out! What has gotten into you?”

“What are you doing with her, man?” David asks over me, as if I’m not right in front of him.

Kevin tenses in defense, his eyes transfixed on David. “What's it to you, anyway? You're just the friend, right?”

The way he says “friend”validates my assumption that he feels I’ve betrayed him. My stomach twists on itself.

David looks at me, oblivious to the situation he's putting me in.

“Why are you letting this dude try to fuck you, Emily? Don't you know that it's probably all he wants from you? Do you even really know him?”

I finally catch his gaze and see his eyes; I know that look. He’s high.

“David, I'm only going to say this once more. Stand the fuck down! I'm an adult, and I can make my own decisions on who I sleep with. I know what's causing this overprotective bullshit right now, and you really need to go cool off. This isn't just a suggestion.”

David postures, and I can almost feel the heat of anger overflowing from his pores. There is a moment of near silence where the only sound is that of the three of us breathing heavily.

David turns and throws the lamp off the desk between the couch and the loveseat. It shatters on the old wooden floors, and the sound echoes through the living room. It breaks the tense silence between us. He walks to his room without uttering another word and slams the door behind him.

I stand there for what feels like an eternity, looking toward David's room. The scene replays in my mind. The TV turns off, reminding me of Kevin's silent presence.

His jaw is tense as he puts his shirt back on without looking at or speaking to me. I drop back down on the couch, exhausted and defeated. I hadn't noticed the tears streaming down my face until they dripped onto my arms. I wipe them away.

“Kevin...”

He looks at me, but he doesn't speak.

“You just wouldn’t understand.”

Time stops as I wait for him to respond. If he is going to respond at all.

“Emily, I like you, but I wasn't coming here expecting a fight tonight. I don't know what this is”—he motions to David's room and then back to where I sit—“but it's not something I want to be involved with. I'll see you at work, okay?”

I nod weakly. The front door opens and closes. Silence.

I walk past the shattered corpse of the lamp on the floor and into my room.

* * *

The next morning,I check my phone as soon as I open my eyes. I half expect a text from Kevin. I have hopes that last night had been one big nightmare until I see the residue of the lamp where it lay broken and forgotten after the confrontation. David must have cleaned up most of it already.

I look for him, but he isn’t in his room, and his truck is nowhere to be found. He’s gone again.

The events continue playing in my head on repeat. I can’t decide whether I should text Kevin or give him some breathing room for a little while longer. The dust has hardly begun to settle between all of us.

* * *

David

“Things are sobad right now, Dani,” I mumble toward her sleeping form beside me.

She rustles a bit before falling back asleep. I rock slightly, anxiety riddling my mind as I stare ahead. I haven’t been able to sleep. Prying thoughts keep me awake until I become manic and irritable.

My phone sounds. I lean over and pick it up. It’s Emily.

Emily: Are you okay? What happened last night?

Am I okay? Do I look okay? I don't know why she cares so much about me. I shove my phone and it falls onto the carpeted floor of Dani's room. I leave the text on read because I don’t know what to say to her.

I shake Dani awake. She groans as I grab her shoulder, and she tries to pull it away.

“No,” she whispers. “I want to sleep.”

“Come on, Dani. Wake up. We don't have time for this shit. I have to go to work soon.”

She sits up, the veil of sleep still blanketing her face. Her mane is messy and tousled, and her usually bright eyes are glassy and heavy. She touches the shoulder I grabbed. The pale skin of her hand tries to comfort a large, healing bruise on her shoulder.

The argument that preceded the bruise didn’t warrant such intense emotion, but my father’s hand took control of my own. She was trying to leave me. The risk of losing her invoked potent feelings of fear, yet somehow, the emotions warped and I ended up wanting to hurt her. A conversation about what she means to me would have been much more efficient, but I chose to lay my hands on her to argue my point instead. Why does she stay with me?

Regret fills me. I lean over and kiss her tender skin. We are drawn to each other like moths to a flame. I am sure she never expected for me to burn her as much as I have.

“I really am sorry for my anger. I hope you know that. I really care about you.” I reach over and brush some of her hair out of her face. “I just get so upset when you say you want to leave me. I don’t want to lose you. Will you forgive me?”

She looks in my direction but doesn’t meet my eyes. Her dry lips hang in a frown. My apologies mean so little to her, but I get it. How can I apologize with the touch of one hand as I hit her with the other?

She climbs out of bed and leaves the room without uttering a word, angry or otherwise. It’s a numbness I have grown accustomed to.

I grab my phone to text Em back. My hand trembles. I type out a long message.

Me: I don’t know what happened last night. I saw red. I didn’t realize how much it would upset me to see you like that. Fuck. I’ll replace the lamp and make it up to you. I hope I didn’t ruin things between you and that guy.

I take a deep breath, shake my head, and delete the text. My jaw tenses as I replace it with a simple and cold response that will probably worry Emily more than if I hadn’t said anything at all.

Me: I’m fine.