The Brightest Stars

Kael’s eyes were on me and I was aware of how the heat was spreading on my cheeks. The way I was talking … well, it was like I was thinking out loud. I barely realized it. I knew that it sounded cheesy. I’d read things like that in books sometimes or had seen it in movies, and it just didn’t seem possible. What a cliché. Yet there I was, being opened by a stranger.

“I mean it was way more complicated than that, obviously. That was the quick version. There were actually civilizations whose entire religions were based on the whole galaxy of planets and stars. My mom used to tell me all about them. I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? They were here first.”

Kael spoke up. “Were they?”

His words seemed important, there were so few of them. I guess that’s why when he asked me questions, I wanted to really think about my answers.

“I’m not entirely sure,” I finally said. “What about you?”

He shook his head.

“I think that’s okay,” I told him. “There are so many different religions … too many people to get to agree on one thing. I think it’s okay to take a little time, learn a little more. Don’t you?” Such a heavy question, and wrapped in the most casual bow.

He sighed, blowing out a puff of air. I could hear the whisper of his words coming together, but couldn’t quite make them out. The longer he sat on his opinion, licking slowly at his lips, chewing on his cheek, the more I anticipated his answer. Time melted as I waited.

“I think so,” he said at long last. “I just want to be a good person. I know a lot of people inside and outside the church who are both bad and good. There’s so much out there that’s bigger than us … I’d rather focus on how to make things better than wonder how we got here in the first place. For now, at least.” He sounded so sure.

He kept talking. This was the most he had shared since we met. Usually I was the one going on and on. “I don’t know what I believe yet,” he said.

There was a long pause before he continued. A car door slammed and my phone buzzed with a text from Elodie. She was going to someone’s house—someone named Julie—so everyone except her could have a few drinks. I dimmed my screen and put my phone facedown on the concrete porch.

“I don’t know,” he repeated. “But I do know that I have a lot of shit to make up for.”

His voice slipped a little at the end and my brain took a bite of his words. The gravity of what he was saying ate at me. My throat burned and I swallowed, trying to dilute it, but it didn’t work. It was physically painful to think about the kinds of things Kael had seen at his age—at our age. It was easier not to feel anything at all, but I couldn’t do that.

I’d always felt so much, ever since I was a child. I was always either burning or floating, moving from one extreme to another. “Karina feels things deeply,” my mother said of me. “She takes things to heart.”

Kael cleared his throat. I wanted so badly to ask him what he had to make up for, but I knew he wouldn’t want that. I could feel him next to me, brewing, but I kept my eyes on the sky. I blinked, watching as blue swirled into orange. I pictured him with a gun strapped to his chest, a boyish smile. I didn’t know what he’d experienced over there, but that blank stare on his face … I had to say something.

“I don’t think it works like that. I think you’re safe.”

My words were weak when said, but if he could feel what I felt for him in that moment, he would know it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Safe?” he asked, as the clouds drifted over us. “From who?”

I DIDN’T HEAR LOUD MUSIC or see bright lights when I pulled up. And nobody had spilled onto the lawn. That had to be a good sign.

“Doesn’t seem too bad,” I said.

The bungalow was in the far corner of a quiet cul-de-sac, with a field at the back and houses all around. I had to park on the street because three cars were already in the driveway—two of which I didn’t recognize. Plus there was my dad’s van, an ugly white thing he hadn’t touched in at least a year. I’d come to hate that van. It wasn’t always that way, but pleasant memories of our one Disney road trip had long ago been replaced by ugly arguments and resentments that spilled over from the front seat.

My parents didn’t have typical husband and wife shouting matches. Even as a child I remember wishing for some of the honest anger I had heard in other families. Theirs was worse. My mom would use a cold, flat voice to deliver her punches. She hit hard, and she knew instinctively where to strike, how to make it hurt the most. I was a needy girl and wanted her anger to reassure me that she cared. I think my dad wanted it too, but she either couldn’t or wouldn’t give us that. My dad and I both navigated our losses differently.

Kael’s phone lit up in his hand. He glanced down and put it into his pocket. I felt important. Prideful as it was, I still felt it.

We were walking up the grass when someone I didn’t recognize came out of the house and walked towards the street. I saw Kael watch him until we were safely inside. It wasn’t anything obvious, just a tilt of the head, an almost imperceptible scan of where this other guy was and what he was doing. It made me wonder what Kael had experienced, and what he might fear. I tried not to let it affect my mood, thinking about what he had seen in Afghanistan. I was sure that was the last thing he wanted to talk about the night before his birthday.

I led Kael into my dad’s house for the second time in a week. Brien had only been there a total of maybe three times our entire four months of dating. He liked my dad … well, he liked trying to impress him while staring at Estelle’s boobs. She was new back then, her boobs too.

Ugh. Brien was the last person I should be thinking of. I looked back at Kael to edge him back into my mind, and also to make sure he was still behind me.

Someone’s music was playing on the TV screen. It was a Halsey song, so I knew I’d like at least one of these random people. I was relaxing a little now. Austin had been right about the party, so far anyway. There were only about ten people there and everyone seemed to be out of high school, thank God. And there was no sign of Sarina or any of her other friends and as far as I knew, she was Austin’s only high school hook up. No sign of Austin either, which meant he was either outside smoking, or in some room with a girl. As long as it wasn’t my old room, and the girl was of age, I didn’t care.

Five or six people were dotted around the living room. The rest were in the kitchen, crowding the booze counter. There wasn’t much to speak of: a bottle of vodka, a much bigger bottle of whiskey, and tons of beer. We stayed in the kitchen, moving around a guy and a girl who seemed to be mid-argument, and passing a man wearing a gray beanie. I couldn’t see his hair, but I suspected he was a soldier, based on his build. My brother always seemed to gravitate toward people in service, even when we were in high school.

Austin and I made a pact from a young age that neither of us would ever enlist, but he still had a natural draw to army life. Whether it was out of habit or comfort—the pull of the familiar and all that—I didn’t know. His curiosity scared me sometimes.

Kael stood near me by the kitchen sink, not touching or speaking, but close enough that I could smell the cologne on his shirt. The smell was sweet and it made me wonder if he had other plans tonight. I wasn’t naïve. I knew the local clubs like Lone Star and Tempra were flooded with singles and single-for-the-night’s. But I didn’t want to think about Kael at either of those places. I grabbed a plastic cup from the stack and poured in a little bit of vodka and a lot of cranberry juice.

“Want one?” I asked Kael.

He shook his head, no. He seemed tense. Whether he was more tense than usual, I couldn’t say. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. His eyes leveled on the cup in my hand.

“I’m only having one since I’m driving,” I explained, slightly defensive. Guilt didn’t really feel appropriate, since I could crash upstairs in my old bed if I needed to.

“I don’t like liquor much.” I didn’t need an explana

tion, but it did make me wonder what it was that was making him seem so on edge.

It was like he wanted to be present, but his mind was wandering back and forth between the kitchen and somewhere else. I tried to guess where, and even considered straight up asking him, but the idea made my heart pound.

“I’ll just take a beer,” Kael said.

I handed him a can from the bin in front of me, next to the partition between the living room and kitchen. Shelves full of eight-by-tens of my dad and Estelle, and me and Austin when we were young, stared back at us. My mom had long since been erased from the record.

Kael studied the beer for a moment, rolling it in his hand before popping open the tab.

“Natural Light, huh?” He raised his brows. They were so thick, they shaded his deep-set eyes and helped hide him from the world. Like he needed help with that.

“Yep. The best of the best.” I took a gulp of my vodka mixture. I felt it fast, my cheeks and tummy warming up.

Kael took a drink of the watery beer. I lifted my cup to touch his can. “Happy birthday! You’ll be drinking legally in about three hours,” I joked.