Once We Were Starlight

“Karys?” I looked up, saw concern in Dawson’s eyes.

Zakai had promised to always love me, but now . . . Pretend they’re not there, little star. Look into my eyes. Focus on me. But I could no longer look at Zakai for strength.

I had to find my own. Somehow. Even if I had no idea where to start. “Sorry,” I mumbled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zakai and the two girls walk out the door, the girls chattering vivaciously. Outside, Zakai stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, his expression as somber as theirs were animated until they disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

Gone.

Dawson cleared his throat and I moved my gaze to him. He watched me for a moment. “That guy . . . who is he to you?” He seemed slightly wary, as though waiting for an answer he didn’t want to hear.

What was Zakai to me? My lover. My best friend. My soul brother. The other half of me. I gave him a smile that felt as ghostly as Zakai’s affection, the love I’d thought could never die. I shook my head. “It’s . . . complicated,” I murmured, setting my cup down and picking at the cardboard sleeve.

He took a sip of his coffee. “As complicated as a broken pencil without an eraser?”

I looked up into his teasing eyes and smiled on an exhaled breath. “Not quite that complicated,” I whispered.

“Good.” He looked away and then back into my eyes, his cheekbones taking on a stain of color. “I have a confession. I, ah, I watched you in class for weeks. I did everything to catch your eye and nothing worked. You were always watching for that guy,” he said, nodding to where Zakai had gone.

The balloon of hurt in my chest released the barest amount of pressure, but enough to take in a full breath again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I noticed.” He looked down momentarily. “The truth is, I practiced breaking that pencil lead for hours. You know, to do it just right so it didn’t look purposeful.”

Despite my still spinning emotions, I managed a smile. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Well, you did a fine job. It was very believable.”

Dawson laughed and then pressed his lips together as he raised a brow. “All that to say, I’m really glad you’re here with me, Karys. And I hope we can do it again.”

**********

The snow began to fall a few minutes after I left the coffee shop, sticking to my eyelashes and melting on my skin. For a moment I simply stopped, raising my face and staring at the marvel of white flakes of ice that fell from the sky.

Ahmad had told me about snow and ice. He’d told me about hurricanes, tsunamis, and things I’d never heard of as a girl of the sand and sun. But to learn of something was one thing, to experience it was quite another.

Snow was . . . wondrous and magical and . . . very cold.

I buried my hands in my pockets, lowering my head halfway into my scarf.

My gaze caught on a lone figure sitting on a bus stop bench under a plastic overhang. Zakai. My breath clouded in front of me as I stood, indecisive and uncertain. His head rose and our eyes met across the street, a vacant desert stretched between us, empty but blazing with heat that burned and blistered.

My feet began to move before I’d instructed them to. I saw Zakai begin to stand, but then, apparently changing his mind, he sunk back down and awaited my approach. By the set of his shoulders, I got the sense he was bracing himself. Did it hurt him to be cruel to me? Was it worth it for some reason I couldn’t comprehend?

Would he explain it to me like an equal? Or would he distort and conceal? The hurt I’d felt at the coffee shop billowed up again, but with it came a vestige of ire and resentment. He’d lied to me. Had it all been lies? Always? And if it wasn’t, why was I so easy to discard now? To hurt and betray?

“It’s snowing. You should get home,” he said when I’d made it to where he sat.

I pulled my coat tighter. It was warm and thick. Zakai was the one who was dressed inadequately for the weather.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Being cruel to me! What did I do to you?”

“You didn’t do anything, Karys. We just have different lives right now, and we each have to live them.”

“We don’t have to have different lives! You’re creating this distance between us.”

“No, little star. It’s happening naturally.”

“Don’t call me that,” I said, tears threatening. “You don’t get to call me that after treating me like a nobody! And nothing is happening naturally. You’re making it what it is.”