A Sky Full of Stars

by Melissa Josias

  I lift my eyes to meet his. He’s looking at me like he’s expecting an answer.

  “Oh,” I say, stretching out my legs to encourage my blood to circulate. “Um...I’d say goodbye, I guess.”

  Bay nods. “Right. That’s what I said. And maybe panic a little.”

  I smile.

  “Everyone in the room gave pretty much the same answer. I think most of us just wanted to get out of there and went along with one another. But there was this girl called Beth. Her answer surprised everyone, I think. She thought about it for a little while and said only one thing. Live.”

  He smiles at me, and it’s like it makes the sun come up. The light starts pushing away the darkness. The cold retreats.

  “I guess what she was trying to say is that no one knows when the asteroid is coming. We don’t know how long it’s going to be. So...just live. We are all going to die. That’s the thing everyone knows for certain. There’s no need to rush to get there. It’s going to happen. We just need to keep going until it does. Instead of fearing the inevitable, making plans to die, we should just live. I know for people like us it’s difficult to get out of bed in the morning, to try to figure out how we’re going to survive the day. But all we need to do is breathe. Our lungs will do the work. They will keep us alive. The asteroid will come when it comes.”

  I try to speak. I want to tell him that I love him, but not in the romantic sort of way. I want to say that if anything is going to save me, it will be him, and Eric, and even Jodie. It will be all of them together, breathing life into my lungs, waking up my body. I want to hold onto him with all that I have because he is strong and I am not and maybe somewhere along the way I can become like him.

  I want to say all of it, but the sun is rising from behind the mountains and it’s illuminating everything and all the beauty I’d forgotten even existed on this earth is splayed out in front of me. There are yellows and greens and blues that strip me dry of words and breath and sadness. The sun continues to rise. I continue to be in awe.

  “I came here after my first couple of nights at Jodie’s,” Bay says, his voice soft and in the right place. “I couldn’t sleep; my mind was rambling all the time. So I snuck out of the house one night, trying to just be by myself. I walked for a really long time, and I found this place. It was dark and I couldn’t really see a lot so I sat down on this rock. For hours I just sat here and let my thoughts run free. I dreamed, and cried, and prayed. Like, to anyone. God. The Universe. Just anyone because I needed help so bad.” He is looking out at the spectacle like I am, marvelling. “I fell asleep at some point. When I woke up, the sun was just starting to rise and it was almost like I was dreaming. It was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen in my entire life.”

  The sun warms my skin. Bay lifts his face upward and takes in deep breaths like he hasn’t been able to for a while.

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time on Earth, it’s that you can’t run away from yourself. You are the only person who can make you happy. It’s up to you. It’s all you.”

  Bay pulls out his phone from his pocket and swipes the screen to life. “I brought you here because I wanted you to see this. I wanted you to feel like you belong here on this planet, this galaxy.” He angles the screen of the phone over the scene in front of us, raising his arms to get in the sunrise. “I’m going to take a photo of this, and I want you to have it. I know that you can’t stay here forever. Every time you look at it I want you to remember what it felt like, what this place sounded like. And how when the sun rose, just like it is now, our shadows stretched over the rocks and made us look like giants, and even if it was just for a short while, we felt like we had the world at our feet.”

  The camera clicks. Bay lowers his arms and holds out his hand to me. I get up, stand shoulder to shoulder with him, my knees shaky.

  “You know what I think, Cape Town? I think we’re too young to be this sad.”

  Bay pulls me in close. He puts his arm around my shoulder, whispering to me that things will be okay, and together we wait as the sun rises, stealing our heart and warming our souls.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jodie is up by the time we get back. If she has any questions about where we’ve been she doesn’t ask. She smiles when we come in, waving us toward the freshly brewed coffee in the kitchen. Bay makes a beeline for it and pours himself a massive cup.

  I meet Eric in the hallway, still half asleep, his hair fussed and his eyes heavy. “Did you guys go somewhere?” He asks, mid yawn. “Were you outside in your pj’s?”

  I have never wanted to hold someone so badly. I slip my arms around his waist and pull him tightly into me. He’s surprised, and takes a few seconds to hug me back.

  “What’s all this about? Everything okay?”

  I smile into his shoulder. “Everything’s fine. I’m fine.”

  Jodie spots us and hurries to get in on the hug. We are a mess of arms and shoulders. “Aw, you guys. I love Sunday hugs. Bay! You want in on this?”

  “Nah, I’m good!” he calls back from the kitchen. We hear the manoeuvring of pots and plates and cutlery. “Hey, dove, what’s for breakfast?”

  *

  The rest of the morning goes by fast. Bay checks his schedule for his shifts at the hospital. Jodie calculates the shopping she’ll need for the week’s upcoming catering jobs. Eric lingers between the kitchen and the living room, watching us like he’s expecting something to happen but can’t pinpoint when it will.

  I can’t decide whether I want to be near Eric or be around Bay. I can’t get enough of either of them. I want to be around Bay because he’s like me, only he’s not. He’s stronger and better and has figured things out. I want to be around Eric because he’s beautiful and smells good and brought me to this place. To play it safe, I stick with Jodie, helping her with her lists and planning.

  By mid-afternoon the sky is darkening with clouds. Cold air carries in from the lake through the side door. I’m cold; I had not packed anything warm. Jodie lends me one of her flannel shirts and a hoodie. She’s bustier than me so they fit loose and comfortable.

  “You know, Abby,” she says, after Eric slips out of the house to take a phone call, “my brother is a good person.”

  I agree. From the kitchen table, I can see him pacing the length of the deck outside. The clouds are still rolling in. The air is wintry.

  “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because I like you. I think you’re lovely.”

  “Okay?”

  “Eric has always saved people. It’s what he does. Even before Bay, he’s always been inclined to help people. He has a really good heart. If someone’s in trouble he’ll do his best to help them. Which is why you’re here.”

  I nod, bracing myself for what she’s about to say.

  “Or at least that’s what I thought at first. When he called and told me about you, I figured it would run its course eventually and he’ll get back to his life.” Jodie shrugs. “Now I’m not so sure. Eric is the most important person to me in the entire world, Abby. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Jodie sighs. She sits back in her chair, her eyes soft. “I know that you have to go back eventually. I don’t want him to become too invested in you before it’s time for you to leave.”

  I scoff. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. He’s not invested.”

  “I know my brother, and the only person he’s looked at the way he looks at you is Luna.”

  My heart jackhammers against my chest. “What?”

  Jodie smiles and nods. “I saw it the first day you were here.”

  “I don’t think...”

  Eric walks through the doorway, a befuddled look on his face. Jodie must sense something because she gets up to meet him, asking a silent question for both of us.

  “That was Charlie,” he says, holding up his cell phone. “He says that he’s starting his own company and just offered me a job. He wa
nts my help with the start-up.”

  Jodie’s eyes go big. “Bear, that’s incredible!” she says, and wraps him into a big hug.

  “I can’t believe it,” Eric says, shell shocked. “I was just helping him with small things around his house.”

  “Well, obviously you did a pretty good job. Well done. I’m so happy for you.” Jodie kisses him on the cheek. I offer congratulations from my spot at the table, still reeling from Jodie’s statement. Bay comes out to see what’s happening, watching from a safe distance.

  “We should celebrate,” Jodie says, picking the keys of her car off the hook by the door. “Bay, make a run to the liquor store for some drinks, will you?” She throws the key at him, which he catches with his good hand.

  “Any excuse for a drink, huh guys?” Eric and Jodie smirk at each other, as if sharing some private, sibling joke. “But that’s all right with me. You know. YOLO.”

  We all turn to look at him. Jodie is trying not laugh.

  “What? Did I use that wrong?”

  “Hey. Do me a favour,” Jodie says, touching his shoulder. “Never say that again.”

  “You guys are hurtful,” Bay says, and then walks to the door. “Who’s coming with me? I don’t trust cars.”

  I think that he might invite me to go with him, and I’m ready, but it’s Eric who he asks to accompany him. They leave through the front door, rain-scented wind billowing through the house. Jodie doesn’t stand still for a moment. She ties an apron around her small waist.

  “Help me make dinner?”

  I watch Eric and Bay leave. Their absences echo through me. I look back at Jodie and nod. “Sure. What do you need me to do?”

  We cook in silence for a while. Well, Jodie cooks and I watch from the kitchen table, making occasional cuts and slices in things she puts down in front of me. We work as a team, but I am definitely the supporting act.

  Jodie removes a pot that’s been simmering on the stove and drains it into the colander at the sink.

  “Are you in love with Bay?”

  The pot falls from her hands, clanking loudly into the sink. She stands motionless for a few seconds, steam rising behind her and dissipating through the open window.

  Jodie turns her head to me. “Why do you ask?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know a lot of people who would take someone into their house, let them live with you, take care of them. I know that you care for him – you and Eric both do – but I’m just wondering if there is something else there.”

  She turns to me, wiping her hands on her apron. “Did he say anything to you?”

  I mime the zipping of my lips.

  “You have to tell me.”

  “Nope. Can’t.”

  “Are you trying to get back at me for what I said earlier about Eric?”

  “No,” I say, although I might be blushing.

  Jodie laughs softly. It reminds me of a small bird taking flight. “For someone who is so open about saying everything he feels, Bay is the most difficult person to figure out.”

  “Maybe he’s keeping his cards close to his chest until it’s the right time to reveal it.”

  Jodie narrows her eyes at me. “He did say something to you, didn’t he?”

  I smile at her.

  “If I tell you something, would you mention anything to Bay?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  From outside, we hear the car pulling up the driveway. Jodie doesn’t have much time before Eric and Bay walk into the house.

  “If he asks,” she says, transferring the potatoes from the pot to a bowl on the kitchen counter. “And only if he asks, tell him that I’ll wait as long as he needs. What we’ve got right now is okay with me.”

  She won’t meet my eye, but keeps herself busy with rinsing the pot with cold water. Eric walks in first with a six-pack of beers in each hand. Bay follows with what looks like champagne and something else I can’t decipher.

  “Marie almost gave me a beating for buying beer on a Sunday,” Bay says, stocking the fridge with the drinks. “Eric had to sweet talk her into making the sale. I think she might have a crush.”

  “She’s sixty, for God’s sake,” Jodie says.

  “Hey, to each their own.”

  Dinner is finished not too long after. Jodie turns baby marrows into a pasta dish, with garlic potatoes that scent the entire house. She sets the food on the table, steaming and ready to be devoured. Outside, fat droplets of rain splat against the windows. Despite the hoodie, I shiver. I’ve always hated the rain. Winters in Cape Town are unbearable to me. Cold, wet and windy. I shudder again.

  “Okay,” Jodie says, just as Bay is starting to help himself. He pauses midway, not knowing what to do. “So before we eat, I’d like us to go around the table and say what we’re thankful for.”

  Bay lets the spoon drop back into the potatoes. “Wait. Is it Thanksgiving already? I forgot to call my mom. She’s going to kill me.”

  “Don’t be silly. I think we can be thankful for things more than once a year.” Jodie sits up straight in her chair. “I’ll start. I am thankful for this day, for the fact that my brother is here and that we’re together.” She reaches over and squeezes Eric’s hand. “I’m thankful for you, Bay, for being around and for being healthy. And for our guest, Abby, for not going anywhere.”

  I smile.

  Bay clears his throat. “Well, I’m thankful for all this amazing food.”

  We laugh. “Of course.”

  “I am deeply grateful that I have a home, and people who care about me. People who saw more worth in me than anyone.”

  Bay doesn’t go on because he gets a little choked up, so Eric jumps in.

  “I’m thankful for my family, no matter which form it comes in. I’m happy that we’re together.” He winks at Jodie. “And even though sometimes it’s not easy being alive, I’m grateful that we can still rely on each other. I’m thankful for this new job opportunity, and the fact that my sister is going to kick ass with her new business venture.”

  Bay raises a glass to that, and Jodie blushes. When it’s my turn, I feel myself go red. I look around the table at each of them, my heart just about ready to burst. “I’ve forgotten to be thankful for a lot of things recently, but I’m grateful for being here with you guys. I love this place. I almost missed out on all of this.” I nod, smiling. “I’m thankful for being alive.”

  I look up and catch Bay’s eye. He’s beaming at me. I beam back.

  Jodie gives off a happy sigh.

  “Please, eat everyone,” she says, as Bay reaches for the potatoes again. “Dinner is served.”

  Eric drinks a bit too much. By the time the sun is gone, his eyes are small and his speech slurred. Jodie is a little giddy too, but she’s still composed enough to ask Bay to close all the windows when the rain really starts coming down. He and I are still sober, the dependable and responsible adults at the grown-up party. I help him with the windows, walking into rooms and pulling them closed, shutting the blinds and curtains as we go. When we are done, I find Jodie half cleaning the kitchen, her hands fumbling.

  “Jodie, let me do that. Please go and sit down.”

  She stops and leans against the counter, blinking too much at me. “You’re a nice girl.”

  “Thanks.”

  I start running water into the sink, but a flash of movement catches my eye on the deck outside. It’s dark, but through the glow of the lanterns I can see through the rain. Eric is standing outside in the downpour, his face up toward the sky like he’s trying to drink the raindrops. He is standing dead still, his arms limp by his sides.

  I squint out toward him. “What the hell is he doing?”

  Jodie comes to stand next to me and peers out the window at her brother. She laughs softly, and that bird takes off again. “Yeah, he does that sometimes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” she says as she wobbles toward the couch, “in LA there is never any rain when you want it.”

  I sta
nd in the doorway, trying to shield myself. Rain hits me in the face. One droplet plummets into my eye. “Eric!” I shout, but he can’t hear me over the crash of the rain. I move closer to him, just outside the reach of the rainstorm. “Eric!”

  He turns to look at me. He is completely soaked. His hair is flat on his head, his shirt clinging to his body. I can see his chest move every time he breathes.

  “Come inside, for God’s sake!”

  He laughs and flings his arms out like he’s trying to hold up the world. “But it’s so beautiful!”

  “You’re going to get sick!”

  “I can get better!”

  I watch him. I’ve never voluntarily stood in the rain. I’d gotten caught in it several times; each time worsened by the feel of wet clothes against my skin, my hair curling, shivers shaking my body. But watching Eric, pure bliss on his face, I feel compelled to stand next to him. I hear Bay say something from inside, but his words are lost as I step out into the rain, grab Eric’s hand and let the rainwater wash away as much of the poison inside of me as it can.

  We go back inside. I’m in Jodie’s terrycloth robe, my hair up in a towel. Eric is standing in the bedroom, dripping rainwater onto the floor. He sways a bit on his feet, shivering but not doing anything about it.

  Jodie is asleep on the couch, with Bay watching TV next to her, so I take it upon myself to deal with the mess Eric is making. I peel off his T-shirt, trying not to notice his wet skin and the muscles in his stomach and his exquisite hipbones. I drape a towel of his shoulders.

  “You’re the only girl to ever stand in the rain with me.”

  “You’re giving me much more credit than is due.”

  “Are you going to take my pants off?” His eyes are half closed, like he’s ready to fall asleep at any point.

  “No, you can do that yourself. Here’s another towel.”

  Eric manoeuvres himself out of his pants like it’s a second skin. He throws it to the side where it lands with a sickening smack. He wraps the towel around his waist. A raindrop hangs off his earlobe.

  “Abby?”

  “What?” I ask, slipping the towel off my head. My hair falls in damp clumps to my shoulders.