Buried in the Stars

by Gretchen Tubbs

  I don’t know how long I walk, my face stinging, tears flowing, feet aching, before Sutton finally pulls up in his truck. He throws it into park and leaves it running in the middle of the street.

  “Jesus, Scarlett, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He tries to pull me into his arms, but I keep my head down and my body stiff. “Come on, Squirt, don’t shut me out.”

  He’s going to see it eventually, so I lift my face. He winces and lets out a string of curses. “What did she do?”

  “She hit me,” I tell him, but the look on his face tells me he doesn’t appreciate my flippant response.

  “Scarlett,” he growls. He leads me to the truck and I come willingly. My feet are killing me. Once we’re inside the cab of his truck he asks me again. “And this time,” he adds, “I want to know why.”

  “She was saying things I didn’t like so I asked her to stop.”

  He pinches the bridge of his nose and his breathing is hard. I jump when he punches the dash of his truck.

  “Fuck. I’m sorry.” After closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths he tries again. “I hate this. I hate her.”

  “Not as much as I do,” I whisper into the darkness of the truck, not able to manage anything louder because my throat is tight. “I’m sorry I ruined your night.” I really wanted this, but now I’ve messed everything up.

  He pulls me close and wraps me in his arms. “Don’t you dare apologize for what she did. This isn’t your fault.” He reaches up to turn on the dome light and hisses when he sees my face in the light. “I need to see about this,” he says, tipping his chin toward my injuries.

  “It’s fine.”

  “No it’s not.” The muscle in his jaw clenches a few times and I watch him try to reel in his anger. “Your cheek is swollen and bruised, and your lip is split. You need ice.”

  “Well I don’t want to explain this to anyone, so I’ll have to do without.”

  “Nobody’s at my house. Let me text Em and tell her I found you and we’ll head over there.”

  “She won’t be satisfied with that. You know how she is.” She’s going to call as soon as she gets the text, demanding all the details.

  Sure enough, the second the text goes through his phone rings. He hands it to me and I press ANSWER. “I’m fine. Mom and I got into an argument and I needed a minute to myself.” The half-truth leaves my mouth much easier than I thought. “Sutton and I are on our way to dinner. I’ll call you tonight.”

  “You better,” she replies. “I need to know everything about your date, in grave detail.” I roll my eyes but promise my best friend I’ll give her the scoop.

  “I hate lying to her.”

  “You told her the truth.”

  “No, I’m going to have to lie about the dance. There’s no way we can go. I’m sure my face is a mess.”

  Sutton pulls his truck around out back and comes around my side to let me out. “We’ll improvise. Just let me take care of you first.” His smile is tight, but I agree.

  As soon as we get into the kitchen he wraps his hands around my waist and sets me on the counter. I watch while he digs around for a baggie and fills it with ice. The hiss I let out when it touches my skin can’t be contained.

  “Sorry,” he mutters. One hand is on my knee, the other is holding the ice for me. He rubs his thumb in circles on my flesh and his tight smile seems to loosen a little. “You look beautiful.”

  “I’m sure I do.”

  “I’m serious.”

  We stare at each other until I become uncomfortable. His eyes are flickering with something that makes me feel funny. I reach up and take the ice from him.

  “I think that’s good,” I whisper.

  “I’m dying to kiss you,” he says out of the blue. The mere thought of kissing Sutton Winters has me pulling the corner of my lip between my teeth, which sets off a wince. “But that’s why I’m not going to do it right now,” he adds, gently rubbing my injured mouth with the pad of his thumb. “I’m warning you though, it’s happening soon.”

  “When?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  He chuckles. “Very soon.” His hands are back at my waist and he helps me off the counter. “Let’s see if we can redeem the rest of this night.”

  “I can’t go anywhere like this.”

  He’s walking us back to the truck. “We’re not going where there are people.”

  “Then where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  He never lets go of my hand while he drives us to our destination. We finally get to what I realize is the practice baseball field. He parks his truck right on the field, leaving it running to give us some light. “We’ll have our own dance, Squirt. I’ve been dying to dance with you.”

  He fiddles with his phone for a few seconds and gets it plugged into his radio, cueing up music for us. When he finds a song he’s satisfied with, he takes me in his arms and we sway in the darkness of the dusty baseball field. I don’t leave the comfort of his embrace the rest of the night. He makes me smile with stories of him and Easton growing up, and he makes me cry with the sweetness he gives me.

  “One more?” he asks. I know it’s getting late, but I never want to leave this place.

  “One more.”

  He grins when the first few notes of the next song start to play. It takes me a little longer to realize what it is, but when I do, my smile is a reflection of his. Maybe even bigger. Each time I hear Atlas Hands I think of him. Now, it’s guaranteed. We can’t really dance to this, but he holds me and makes it perfect anyway.

  “This song reminds me of you.”

  “Funny,” I tell him, “But I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “Remember when I told you that I was going to kiss you soon?” he asks, wiping the smile from my face.

  I nod.

  “I can’t wait any longer.” He inches closer, moving really slowly, I guess giving me time to tell him I don’t want it. He doesn’t have to worry about that. “Tell me if it hurts.”

  His lips gently brush mine, once, then again, and he pulls away slightly. “Okay?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I breathe out.

  He moves in again, faster this time, and pushes his lips against mine, harder, and I sigh. As soon as the noise leaves me, his lips part and he deepens the kiss. His hands make their way into my hair and he moves my head at the perfect angle. My arms snake under his and wrap around his back. My lip stings but I’ll endure it to feel the zap of electricity that’s moving through my whole body.

  All too soon it’s over. My eyelids flutter open just in time to catch his beautiful smile disappear. “That was as perfect as I imagined,” he whispers. A warmth spreads through my body, starting from the deepest part of my belly and moving outward.

  “It was,” I agree. It was slow, sweet, and measured.

  Absolute perfection.

  “We need to get going,” he says, even though his hands are still wound in my hair and he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get untangled. I drop my hands from his back and he slides his hands from my head, leaving chills in their place.

  “Thank you for tonight. I’m sorry we didn’t make it to homecoming.” We walk the few feet to his truck and climb inside.

  “I’m not. I had you all to myself. I just wish the circumstances around it could have been different,” he says as he starts the ignition. “I don’t feel comfortable bringing you home.”

  “Well, unless you come up with a good story, I can’t show up at Emily’s house like this.”

  His hand drifts to my knee and strokes up and down my leg a few times. “My parents are at a conference out of town and Easton is at a friend’s house. Stay with me.”

  My eyes widen at the implications behind what he’s asking. “I don’t expect anything to happen, Scarlett. I only want to keep you safe. I’ll sleep on the couch.” When we get to a stop sign he takes his eyes off the road and lets them linger on my battered face. “Please stay with me. It’s either me o
r Em. I refuse to let you go back home tonight.”

  “I’ll stay,” I whisper.

  He gives me a half smile and continues driving home. He keeps his eyes on the road and I keep mine on him, wondering how I got so lucky.

  “Sutton?”

  “I’m right here,” he says, reaching from my leg to the hand resting in my lap.

  “You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I want you to stay with me. Hold me.” I can feel the heat creeping up my face. “Can you do that?”

  “You don’t have to ask twice, Squirt.”

  When we get to his house, he gets me some sweat pants and a t-shirt to sleep in. When I go into the bathroom, I finally muster up enough bravery to look in a mirror. My mother really did a number on me. Hopefully another round of ice and some good concealer will keep the questions at bay. I have two more days until I have to be back at school. Emily’s a different story, but I should be able to come up with something reasonable to tell her tomorrow.

  Sutton knocks on the door right when I’m starting to grow anxious about everything. “You alright in there?”

  Instead of answering, I come out and he opens his arms wide. I step into his body and he envelops me in a strong hug. “Stop thinking about it, Scarlett. Let’s get in bed, and I’ll tell you a story.”

  He pulls the covers back and I slip into bed, instantly surrounded by his smell. I rest my uninjured cheek on his shoulder and he tugs on the sleeve of my shirt until my shoulder is exposed. That zap of electricity is back when he plants a kiss on a cluster of freckles.

  “Do you want to know why I always trace these?” I nod, and he keeps talking. “They look just like Perseus, one of my favorite constellations.” He plants another kiss on the splattering of freckles, this one lasting a little longer. His lips move from my shoulder to my neck before settling on my lips. “Do you want to hear about him?” he asks, his mouth still pressed to mine.

  I nod, but deepen the kiss, much more interested in this. He gives me what I want for just a beat or two before pulling away. “Let me tell my story.”

  I get settled again, falling asleep to a tale of a boy who was locked in a box and left to perish at sea.

  Chapter Eight

  I put the finishing touches on Sutton’s gift, wrap it, and hide it beneath the pile of blankets in the corner of the treehouse. It was a good idea at the time, but now I feel sort of silly about it. Rather than stay up here and dwell on whether or not he thinks it’s silly, though, I head down and walk over to his house. We’re having dinner and then decorating the tree.

  Just like he has for the last two years, Sutton is leaving in a few days to spend Christmas in California with his grandfather. The first year was hard, the last one was worse. Being apart from him after we had officially become a couple was not easy for me, especially when my mother’s drinking and drug use was escalating.

  On the walk to the Winters’ house, I glance at my driveway, worried for once about the absence of her car. It’s been several days and she hasn’t been home. This isn’t the first time she’s disappeared, but it’s the longest. Last night I found her cash stash, had Sutton bring me to the store to get money orders, and paid the bills for the month, so at least I know that there will be lights and water for the rest of the month.

  I can’t let this ruin my night. It’s bad enough that I’m already upset about Sutton leaving for California. I want to enjoy my last night with him for the next few weeks. When I get to the front door I can hear the Christmas music pouring through the speakers. Laughter can be heard over the notes, and I can see Doc and Mrs. Vera kissing through the window. I plant a smile on my face and knock on the door.

  Sutton throws the door open mid-knock, but comes outside instead of inviting me in. His mouth seeks mine out in a short, hard kiss.

  “Come on,” he says, his eyes dancing. “I want to give you your gift before we join my family.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask, breathless from his kiss.

  Sutton Winters always makes me breathless.

  “Where do you think, Squirt?” He gives me a wink and leads me in the direction of the woods. I didn’t notice a gift from him in the treehouse earlier, but I was concentrating on finishing mine.

  Last year I talked him out of a gift exchange, but this year he insisted. Before I could protest, he set some ground rules… we couldn’t spend any money. While this seemed like a good idea at the time because of my financial situation, it made it harder to come up with something. It took me weeks to decide on a gift. Now that the time has come to exchange them, I’m feeling silly about what I did for him.

  “This was not as easy as I thought,” he says, echoing my thoughts, “but I think you’ll like what I did. It’s sort of for both of us.” He plants a tiny kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Wanna see?”

  “Duh,” I tell him.

  As soon as my foot steps on the short ladder to enter the treehouse he puts his hand on my waist and says, “No, this way.” He pulls me around the back of the huge Oak that our house is nestled in and walks several feet away to an open spot. “Check it out,” he grins.

  “I love it.”

  Sutton created a fire pit for us out here. I recognize the brick from his dad’s shed. There’s also a makeshift bench seat made from wood and cinder blocks. “When did you do all this?”

  “A few nights ago when you stayed at Em’s house. I’ve been waiting for a chance to get in these woods alone.”

  “This is perfect.”

  “Now we can sit out here and not freeze our asses off in the winter.” He pulls a few boxes of matches out of his pocket and stashes them in one of the holes in the bricks. “My turn.”

  “It’s up there.” I lead the way and spread a blanket for us to sit on when we reach the top. I clutch the gift to my chest and decide I need to preface it with why I did this for him. “I’m recycling this.”

  “Well, it’s not easy to give a gift without spending.”

  I shake my head. “No, that’s not what I mean.” I join him on the blanket, kneeling between his legs. “Each time you would tell me about the stars and draw a map on my leg I would rush home and recreate the map and story on paper so I wouldn’t forget them. Those tales, those times with you, helped me through some of the hardest times in my life. They still do, Sutton. You save me, each and every time you share your stars with me.”

  “Scarlett,” he starts, but I don’t let him talk. I stop his words with a gentle kiss.

  “Thank you for that,” I tell him when I pull away. “I know you have all of this in that giant brain of yours,” I continue, laughing, “but I made this for you anyway. It’s just like the one I keep hidden under my bed. I take it out and look through it when I need to feel close to you. Now you can do the same.”

  He takes the gift from my hands. I expect him to unwrap it, but he gently places it on the side of us and rakes his fingers through my hair, stopping at the base of my neck. His eyes are glossy and he clears his throat before speaking. “No one has ever given me something so thoughtful. I love it.” He tugs me forward and gives me an impossibly slow kiss. “I love you,” he whispers against my mouth.

  I smile. “How much?”

  “A lot.”

  “More than what?”

  “More than a little, Squirt.” He releases me and I miss his touch right away. “Now, let me see what you’ve done.”

  I hand him the present and he tears through the paper in no time. When he sees the cover, he slows down immediately, touching it with reverence. The whole thing is black, just like our night sky, with the Zodiac circle drawn in white. Buried in the Stars is scrawled in the middle.

  “Perfect,” he mutters, his hand still tracing over the letters on the cover.

  “You haven’t even opened it.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I know what’s in here and I know how much love and effort you put into this. I’ll treasure it for the rest of my life.”

  “Humor me, Sutton.”

  H
e looks down at the cover once more and then opens it, his smile growing when he sees the first page. It’s doesn’t exactly pertain to the constellations, but I can’t think of him without the lyrics from Atlas Hands. I penned a few of my favorite ones on the first page. He turns the page and gets to the stories and maps, all recreated from the stories he’s told me over the last few years. They’re all there, starting with Sagittarius, and ending with Draco, which he told me about just a few weeks ago after a particularly nasty brawl with Mom.

  “This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

  “Those stories are the best things anyone’s ever given me,” I tell him. “I don’t know what I would have done these past few years without you.”

  There’s a sudden sadness in his eyes, and I’m not sure where it’s coming from. He learned long ago not to let his feelings show when we talk about my mother. I can’t stand having someone feel sorry for me, but this is different… this look. Before I can question it, though, he pushes it away and changes the subject.

  “I’d love to stay here with you all night and look at this, but my mom’s probably about to send out a search party.”

  I laugh, knowing he’s right. Vera Winters doesn’t take kindly to people being late to dinner, especially a dinner that involves tree decorating afterwards. We leave the treehouse and walk back to his house, hand in hand, my book of stars tucked safely under his arm.

  Mrs. Vera is putting the last of the dishes on the table when we walk through the door. I can hear Emily and Easton in a heated debate over some stupid reality show in the living room. Doc’s voice cuts through the noise, effectively cutting off their argument, and he herds them into the formal dining room for dinner. Sutton and I wash up and join them.

  “Did you give it to her?” Emily asks. She’s practically bouncing up and down in her seat, unable to contain her excitement.

  “I didn’t think you’d be that excited over a fire pit in the woods. You don’t even come out there anymore.” Emily’s too concerned about the boys at school to hang out in the woods like we used to when I first moved to the neighborhood. Now I don’t think anyone goes out there but me and Sutton.