We Are the Stars

by Teagan Hunter

  I spin around to find Elliott holding her head, blood seeping through her fingers. Her eyes are wild and scared, and she’s staring at me with terror.

  Everything inside me goes from volcanic hot to icy waters cold.

  I move toward her and she holds her hand out.

  “Don’t.”

  I ignore her and press forward, falling to the floor next to where she’s sprawled out. “Elliott…I fucked up.”

  “That’s…” She winces. “That’s obvious, Carsen.”

  I reach for her again and she scrambles backward. “Don’t.”

  That one word shatters me. Cracks splinter and fan out until I’m in absolute shambles.

  Jase struggles off the floor and heads toward Elliott, but she shakes him off too. The rest of the restaurant stands around muttering, whispering things behind their hands, throwing worried and disappointed looks our way. The staff stands frozen, unsure where to even begin with the cleanup. A red-faced manager stomps my way and I stand, promising to pay for all the damages.

  Somewhere amongst the chaos, Elliott disappears.

  Panic hits me and I can’t breathe. My chest feels like a thousand fire ants burrowed their way into my lungs and made a home. My body is lit with worry.

  Then, relief floods me.

  She’s gone.

  She’s safe from me.

  I can’t hurt her anymore.

  I told her I was dangerous.

  ***

  Elliott

  “Whoa, whoa. Slow down there, speedster.”

  Disoriented and in a rush to get out of the restaurant, I crash into a hard body on the sidewalk and nearly send myself falling to the ground for the second time tonight.

  Strong hands wrap around my biceps and the stranger steadies me.

  Another set of my hands land on me and I try to shake them off. Instantly I’m let go.

  “Elliott?”

  I look up to find Nate and Blake gawking at me. “Uh, hi.”

  “What happened? What’s wrong? Why is your head bleeding? Did someone—”

  Nate’s questions die amidst my outburst of tears.

  “Carsen,” Blake whispers. “Was it him?”

  I barely manage to nod and my head throbs from the movement. “He… We… Jase showed up and our date was ruined. He didn’t…” I gulp in a big breath of air. “He didn’t mean to. He didn’t know it was me, but he was so…he was so…”

  The tears take over again as I fight for air.

  “Hey, shh.” Warm arms engulf me and I try to calm myself down by breathing in the clean sent wafting off Blake. “Shh. It’s fine.”

  Nate takes off into the restaurant and I hear more yelling. He quickly comes back out, huffing and puffing. He places a hand on my shoulder and says, “Come on, we’ll take you home.”

  “No!” I break free of his hold. “I can’t go there. Not like this. They’ll think the wrong thing and it’ll be bad for everyone—worse than it already is.”

  They share a worried glance before nodding as if they had a quick, silent conversation.

  “We’ll take you back to our place tonight.”

  “What! I can’t go there! Not after that!”

  “Shh. It’s fine. I promise. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “But it’s Carsen’s house.”

  “Elliott, I swear on everything I have, I will not let anything happen to you. I don’t care if the fucking Pope busted down the door and demanded your ass on a silver platter,” Nate tells me. “You’re safe with us, no matter where we are.”

  “I…” I grab my head, now throbbing all over. “Okay.”

  We quickly make our way back to Carsen’s house. The walk is fast and before I know it, we’re barging through the front door and I’m being rushed to the bathroom.

  Nate plunks me down on the closed toilet lid while Blake scrambles around the room for a first aid kit.

  “It’s clean in here.”

  Blake pauses in his task of opening a clean gauze pad and soaking it in saline water. “Okay…”

  I shrug. “I didn’t expect it to be clean.”

  “Because we’re boys?”

  “Because you’re boys.”

  Nate chuckles. “Tell us how you really feel, Elliott.”

  “Boys are gross. And mean. So mean sometimes.”

  “You okay there, champ?” Blake asks.

  “Can I have something for my head?”

  The boys share another look.

  “What?” I demand when they stare for too long.

  “I think we should get you to a doctor. You could have a concussion,” Nate tells me.

  “No. I’m fine. I promise. I just need Tylenol, a bandage, and rest.”

  “Are you sure?” Blake presses.

  “Positive.”

  Another look. Another annoyed huff from me.

  Nate nods and Blake proceeds to clean out my cut and carefully place a bandage over it. Nate runs to the kitchen and returns with a glass of water while Blake shakes out a couple pills.

  “Here, take these.”

  I obey.

  “Do you want something to sleep in?”

  I shake my head. “I’m fine. Leggings are practically pajamas anyway.”

  “Good point. Stay here. I’ll go make up the spare bedroom for you.”

  I reach out for him. “No, wait. Can I…” I hesitate, worried this could be a bad request. I forge ahead anyway, knowing where I’ll be most comfortable. “Can I stay in Carsen’s room?”

  Blake raises a brow. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s peaceful in there.”

  He nods solemnly. “Okay.”

  The boys help me up the stairs and lead me into Carsen’s room. The lights are off and we keep them that way, the room plenty lit with the moon shining through the large windows facing the lake.

  My chest grows heavy at all the happy thoughts I’ve acquired in this room in such a short amount of time.

  I can’t believe the Carsen in those memories is the same wild, uninhibited, frightening Carsen from the restaurant. He was uncontrollable, relentless. There was no stopping him once he let that darkness out.

  Darkness. He warned me of it. I ignored him.

  I shouldn’t have ignored him.

  I grip at my chest, now fraught with new weight, and clutch at the pain settling in. The pain for Carsen, for me. For the entire evening. For him walking around with such fury, so many shadows inside him for so long.

  It’s a burden, one he’s borne with strength, and one that’s now destroyed everything good he’s worked so hard to build in seconds flat.

  “If you need anything, anything at all, call out to us. We’ll hear you.”

  “Do you want us to stay?” Blake asks.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head, my eyes growing heavy with tears. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Okay.” Nate grabs hold of his hand and they begin to back out of the room. “We’re right down the hall…”

  “Thank you. For everything. I’m so sorry you’re in this position. I feel…” I can’t help it; the tears cascade down my cheeks.

  I’m scooped up in another hug, this time from both Nate and Blake.

  “It’s fine. We’re here for you. You’re not putting us in a bad spot. Everything will be okay,” Nate reassures me.

  They give me one final squeeze before steering me toward Carsen’s bed. The blanket is pulled back and I’m pushed under the comforter and tucked in.

  Before they go, Nate leans down and whispers a soft goodnight. I hear Blake sigh and they leave me in the darkness.

  The door is left ajar, and I can hear them outside in the hallway.

  “Call. Him,” Nate hisses.

  “I will, but calm down. We have no idea what happened.”

  “She was bleeding, Blake. Do we need any other information?”

  I can picture Blake resting his hand against his boyfriend’s heaving chest. “Nate, yes. You know we do. Relax. I’ll go call him n
ow. Let’s go to our room. She’ll be fine.”

  “We need to check on her soon. She could have a concussion.”

  “How about we take turns tonight, huh? Every two hours or so? Deal?”

  Nate sighs. “Deal.”

  Their footsteps fade down the hall. I grab my phone and shoot off a text to Fish.

  Me: I’m staying out tonight. If the ’rents ask, let them know.

  In typical Fish fashion, he responds with an eggplant emoji.

  Trying to relax, I lie on my back first, then my stomach. Finally, I try my side, but no matter what I do, I can’t get comfortable to save my life.

  It’s because Carsen isn’t here. Because I’m used to being in his arms here. Because this blanket, this entire damn room smells like him. Smells safe. Feels safe. This little slice of the universe can’t be contaminated. Not by Jase’s crude words or his asshole friends. Not by Carsen’s near-constant underlying anger. And certainly not by William Wheatley, who is the cause of all this pain.

  I reach over and click the remote that can always be found on the bedside table. The room illuminates with the glow of the night sky and peace fills me.

  The stars. It always comes back to the stars.

  I try to block out the images that are threatening to overtake my mind, but it’s of no use. They slam into me and I can’t help the tremor that runs through my body at the memory of Carsen’s wild eyes. He looked so…fierce, and scared—so fucking scared. It was like he wanted to stop, knew the crunch of Jase’s nose beneath his fists felt wrong, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop hitting him, not until he made him feel the pain he did.

  He’ll never feel that, not in the way Carsen does. He lost three people that night.

  His mom.

  His dad.

  Himself.

  He’ll never be the same, and that’s okay.

  I only wish he’d realize that.

  Maybe Faith had it right all along. Maybe it is in the stars, but maybe we are the stars. Though we may last for a long time, we’re not permanent. We go through cycles of birth, maturity, and even death. Like the balls of gas floating around the universe for millions of years, we change.

  I think what Faith nor Carsen accounted for is that while a star dies, its matter does not disappear. It forms into a new nebula or moves into an existing one, letting the matter cycle back through to become a star again.

  Carsen’s star may have died that night, but its matter did not.

  He merely needs to find a new home for it.

  12

  Carsen

  You’d think that after waking up in a cemetery on numerous occasions, I’d be used to it.

  I’m not.

  The bright morning sun licks across my skin. I crack open my eyes and peer around for the groundskeeper. He’s nowhere to be seen, but I’m almost certain he wouldn’t care that I stayed the night. We have an unspoken agreement about it.

  I push myself to a sitting position and rest my back against the headstone I was resting by.

  “Ma, I screwed up.”

  I pluck a few blades of grass and twirl them between my fingers before throwing them away, watching as the wind catches them and carries them away.

  “Big time. I was in a fight last night. I know, I know, shame on me, right? But, Ma, that kid…” I grit my teeth thinking of that prick Jase and everything he and friends said. “He’s a grade-A dick. I know that doesn’t excuse what I did, but he had it coming.”

  My heart begins to hammer in my chest thinking about last night. Elliott. The look on her face was devastating. I fucked up. I lost control. And in the middle of all that, she got hurt.

  “The boys called me last night freaking out. They ran into Elliott outside the restaurant, where they had planned to spend their date night, and took her back to my house. Nate was fuming, and I’m certain if I were there, he would have thrown a punch my way—and I would have had it coming.

  “After they told me Elliott was passed out in my bed, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go home, so I opted for the next best place.” I pat the headstone. “Here with you, Ma.”

  I leave out the other details of what happened, of Elliott’s head injury, and of exactly what Jase and his buds said about me.

  “I think I—”

  My phone chimes with a text.

  Elliott: Are you okay?

  Me: I should be asking you that.

  Elliott: Are you coming back home?

  I know she doesn’t mean it in that way, but when she says home, my heart soars—then crashes violently back to the ground because there is no hope for us anymore. I ruined that.

  Elliott: You can. We should talk.

  Me: I’ll be there in five.

  Elliott: Are you with her?

  Me: Yes.

  Elliott: Tell her hi for me.

  Despite the turmoil brewing inside me, I grin, because I swear this woman is just like my mom. Her kindness and patience know no bounds.

  “Elliott says hi, Ma.”

  I kiss my fingers and place them to her headstone before taking off toward my house.

  My steps are heavy with trepidation. I don’t know what I’m going to walk into. My best friends could turn on me, and I wouldn’t blame them. The girl I’m steadily falling for could walk away from me, and I wouldn’t blame her.

  Or, by some fucking miracle, I could walk in and back out with only a scratch.

  But I’ll most likely crumble under the rubble of the disaster I’ve created.

  The boys are standing on the front porch when I arrive. Nate’s eyes are narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest. Blake’s hand rests on his back, holding him steady.

  “What the hell happened.” It’s a question, but it’s not spoken as one.

  I glance around, noting too many people outside for my liking. “Can we do this inside, please?”

  “No. Elliott’s in there and I’m not letting you in until I know she’s not wearing that bandage because of you.”

  I stumble backward at his accusation. Does he honestly think I’m capable of that? Am I? My father was. He crushed my mother with his bare hands, stole the breath straight from her lungs. He didn’t let go until she was dead.

  No. I’m not him. I won’t be like him.

  “Nate… Do you…” It hurts to try to get the words out, almost as much as it hurts that Nate could even possibly think I’m capable of intentionally hurting Elliott. “Do you think I hit her?”

  “Did you?”

  “Fuck no,” I spit out. “Do you honestly believe I’d do that? Is that truly what you fucking think of me? If so, we need to reevaluate our so-called friendship.”

  Nate takes a steady breath and relaxes his stance, unfolding his arms and letting them hang loose. Blake twines his fingers between his boyfriend’s.

  “No, I don’t think you’d do that, but you weren’t you last night, were you?”

  I wish I could tell him it wasn’t me, that it was a random fit of anger, that I had to put Jase in his place—but I can’t say any of that with honesty.

  It was me and the darkness that hides inside. It wasn’t random anger—a little misplaced, sure, but not random. I could have ignored Jase. Instead I chose to engage.

  When I don’t say anything, Nate nods, understanding as best he can.

  “She’s inside,” Blake tells me. “We’re going to go grab coffee and donuts. We’ll be back shortly.”

  As they walk past me, Nate lays a hand on my shoulder.

  “She’s a tough girl, but last night messed her up. Be careful with her, Carsen.”

  He walks away and I’m stuck standing there staring up at my house, too scared to walk inside.

  My gut is filled with bricks. I’m sweating and my hands are beginning to go numb from how tightly I have them locked into fists.

  By sheer will, I push myself forward and open the front door.

  It’s eerily quiet in the house, making my breaths sound harsher than they are. I move farther inside. The
living room is empty and so is the kitchen. I take the stairs one at a time, slowly and methodically. Normally I’d rush anywhere to see Elliott; today I don’t want to. Whatever is about to happen, what we’re going to talk about, it’s going to change everything—and I’m not ready for that.

  I don’t pause outside my door, convinced I need to rip this off like a Band-Aid and march in there ready to fight.

  The balcony doors are open and I know that’s where she is.

  I cross my room and edge my way outside. She’s sitting on the lone chair, her feet propped up on the white railing.

  She looks tired and a little sad. The cut on her head is covered in a bandage but I can still see the purple bruise forming around it. The sight turns my stomach and I have to take deep breaths so I don’t puke.

  Elliott knows I’m here but she doesn’t acknowledge me. I sit on the other side of the doors on the ground, pulling my knees close to my chest. I close my eyes and rest my head on my knees—I can’t look at her when I know she’s about to shatter me more.

  The worst part is, I deserve it all too.

  “It’s peaceful out here.”

  I nod.

  “The kind of peaceful where you can get a lot of thinking done. That’s what I’ve been doing all morning. By the way, the sunrise is beautiful out here too.”

  I nod again.

  “Fish told me to run if you ever scared me, and I promised him I would.”

  I knew this was coming.

  “I want to start by telling you I’m not angry at you. Yeah, I was scared last night, terrified even, because the person I saw in that restaurant wasn’t the same guy who called ahead to make sure they had my nacho cheese. He wasn’t the same guy who pressed me up against a tree and kissed the hell out of me only a half hour earlier. He was the Carsen I first met. He was so full of rage, but then I got to know him better and he wasn’t as angry as he first seemed. A little misunderstood is all. He viewed everyone as the enemy and he needed to learn that not everyone was, and he did.”

  Was I that bad merely two months ago? Has that much truly changed in such a small amount of time?

  When I’m with Elliott, I’m happy. I’m able to relax and be myself around her. She doesn’t judge me for what my father did, and that’s all I can ask for. Plus, I laugh with her.