We Are the Stars

by Teagan Hunter

  But I know for a fact that the happiness doesn’t last. It wears off and leaves me feeling emptier than before.

  I’m aware it’s a horrible way to live, to cope, but it’s all I have.

  “Since then, the pain in his eyes eases just the slightest some days. Others, it doesn’t at all. He talks often of a darkness lurking inside him, like a sleeping dragon waiting to wake, but I never saw it.”

  She pauses, and I can feel her gaze burning me like a thousand suns. Even though I’m scared, I meet her stare.

  “Until last night, Carsen,” she says. “Until he unleashed the shadows that caged him. Until he relentlessly pounded and beat someone. Until he was so lost in his wrath that he hurt me. I never saw it until then.”

  I want to wish this moment away, wish last night away. I want to start over, because the ache in her eyes is fucking killing me.

  “Elliott, I’m… Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… The anger, it came pouring out. I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it. If I could take it all back, I would.”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “What? Why? I—”

  “I know what you did, Carsen. I was there. I saw it all. I watched everything unfold from an angle you didn’t have. Your rage, your darkness, it’s not you, but rather something you harbor, and I think it’s because you haven’t properly dealt with your anger toward your father.”

  “I did the therapy shit. I moved on. I don’t want to spend another minute of my life thinking about that sick fucker.”

  “The ‘therapy’ shit? Sounds like you took that real seriously.”

  “I…” The words die as I realize her sarcasm is on point.

  I didn’t take it seriously. In fact, I went for only two sessions and then bailed, deeming myself over it. The truth is, I’m not over it, and it’s not solely about my mother’s death. I’m not over the fact that my father had that in him, not over the fact that I lost him too. I never dealt with it. Hell, I never truly dealt with any of it.

  “Okay,” I tell her.

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “I see where you’re coming from.”

  “I… Yeah, okay.”

  Elliott stands and comes to sit next to me. Her arm brushes mine. We haven’t said goodbye yet, but I know it’s coming, and I already miss the feel of her.

  We sit side by side in silence, watching the clouds gently float by. Birds call out to one another and trees rustle in the wind.

  She’s right; it is peaceful out here.

  I only wish this space wasn’t about to be tainted with this painful memory.

  “We have to stop whatever it is we’re doing. There are things we need to work on apart from one another. This won’t go anywhere if we’re both…well, stuck. If we are ever going to move forward, we each need to move forward, ya know? We can’t move together if we’re working against ourselves.”

  “I woke up this morning knowing I’d have to pay the consequences for what happened last night. I mean, I really knew, but fuck, it sucks.”

  “I know, Carsen, but we have to.”

  I nod. “We have to.”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “I think if things were different, if the timing were right, we could have had something great.”

  “I know, Elliott. I know.”

  The words hang between us for far too long. We could have had something great…if we were both honest. We weren’t. She needed a distraction. I was one. I needed to fill a void. She helped. It was a relationship of convenience. We were two people who didn’t have any business getting into something, yet we did.

  And now we’re paying for it.

  “This sucks.”

  “I know.”

  “How is this going to work at Down the Lane?” she asks.

  “I can quit if you’d like.”

  “No, don’t do that. We can make it work. We’ll stay out of each other’s way. Hell, we’ve practically done that the whole time we’ve worked there together anyway. We can keep doing it.”

  “We can.”

  She holds her hand out and I link my fingers with hers. She rests her head on my shoulder and I lay mine on top of hers.

  “I’m sorry this didn’t work out, Elliott.”

  “I am too, Carsen, but I suppose it’s written in the stars, right?”

  I don’t say anything back.

  And that’s how our friendship ends.

  ***

  Elliott

  You know that feeling when you discover something that surprises you? Those butterflies in your stomach flutter excitedly and your head spins in the best way possible—it’s a strange kind of magic, right?

  That’s how I felt when I first kissed Carsen, when that first spark between us hit me.

  Today I feel an indefinable sadness, like I lost someone who was meant to be in my life, and I very well could have. But, for right now, it’s what needs to happen. I’ll have to carry this ache in my chest with my head held high. It’s all I can do.

  When I finally return home after having my last breakfast with the boyfriends, the first thing my mom does is cry over my bruised head. My dad doesn’t ask questions. Instead, he marches out of the house with a scowl. We don’t see him for hours and when he returns, his scowl is still there and he closes himself up in the garage.

  I have no idea what happened.

  Eventually I tell my mother what transpired the night before.

  “Have you talked with Jase about what’s going on with him?”

  “Honestly? No. Based off the texts he’s sent me this summer, I don’t want to. Morally, I probably should, but Mom, I can’t. He’s so beyond my Jase right now that I’m not sure where to start.”

  She nods. “I think you should still try, just to get closure.”

  “I’ll think on it,” I promise.

  “And this thing with Carsen?”

  “It’s over.”

  “Over over?”

  “We agreed to be friends.”

  “You’re okay with this?” she presses.

  “I have to be. It was my idea.”

  “It was?”

  “We were using each other.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “You’re not going to like it…” I warn.

  She raises a brow and I give in.

  “Fine. Here goes.” I take a deep breath and push out, “Iwantochangemymajor.”

  It comes out as one word and her confused expression lets me know she didn’t understand it.

  “Come again?”

  “I said, I want to change my major…I think.”

  “You think or you do?”

  “I do—I think.”

  Mom laughs lightly. “Wow, way to make that more convincing.”

  “I’m bored. With everything. I thought getting a job over the summer would cure my boredom, but it did nothing. Well, I mean, technically it did. It landed me in the middle of all the Carsen shit, but that’s not the point. The point is, I’m still bored. It didn’t fix me like I wanted it to. I used Carsen as a distraction. He didn’t deserve that, and neither did I. I need to work on me and I want to start with school. I know I have business administration as my major right now, but it doesn’t interest me, doesn’t challenge me enough.”

  Mom’s expression is neutral, and I don’t know if I should be worried or not.

  “What major are you thinking of switching to?” she asks.

  “Education. I think I want to be an English teacher.”

  “Hmm…I can see that. Are you sure? You know what everyone says about that degree and obtaining a steady job after graduation.”

  “I’m aware, and I’m ready to work hard for it. I know it’ll be tough, but I can do it.”

  “If that’s what you truly want, your father and I will support you.”

  I nod. “It is.”

  “Okay. Good. Now, how are you going to move forward with everything?”


  “I think…I think I’m going to write more. I’m going to start doing things I want to do for me. I feel like I’ve spent a lot of the last several years bending to make others happy and I’ve lost sight of what makes me happy. I think I need time on my own to find my way back to that.”

  She smiles one of those secret mom smiles, that one where they know something you don’t. They’re frustrating and comforting at the same time.

  “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” she says. “Where are you going to start?”

  I take a deep breath and look her directly in the eyes. “With me.”

  Her smile widens, and for the first time in quite some time, I feel ready for the future.

  13

  Elliott

  Six Months Later

  I slide into my seat at the back of the large classroom. I have time before class begins, so I flip open my notebook to a blank page and begin doodling aimlessly.

  It’s the first day of the second semester and after some huge changes in the last several months, I’m excited to see what this new year holds.

  There was a lot of convincing from my mom, but I finally talked with Jase. The result? Not so good. We’ve officially gone our separate ways. The saddest part of it all? I think he’s always been the ass he is now; he was just better at hiding it before.

  But she was right—it did give me closure.

  It also opened me up to the change I was searching for. It freed me. I wasn’t tied to anyone any longer. I didn’t have to be someone else. I could be me, free and clear, and damn did it feel good.

  I found my passion for writing again and decided to start a blog. It’s nothing major, but it’s a good outlet for…well, everything. On top of that, I’ve become an amateur astrologist, took a cooking class with Fish, and got a tattoo.

  Most importantly, I found happiness, sometimes in major changes and sometimes in the smallest of things, even when I thought I couldn’t.

  My job at the bowling alley came to a close at the end of the summer and it was a bittersweet goodbye. Somehow Carsen and I managed to work seamlessly together. We were cordial, and it almost felt natural. You’d have never guessed by looking at us that at one point, I was certain I was falling in love with him.

  Actually, I’m still certain of that. There’s no way I wasn’t going to fall for him. He came out of nowhere and we collided like stars in the night sky. It was fast and brutal. The buildup was slow and the burnout inevitable. He gave me so much in so little time, and I’ll keep that close to my heart for a long time to come.

  I miss him, every day. There hasn’t been one day that’s gone by where I haven’t wondered how he is, how he’s getting along, if he’s found peace. I’ve attempted many times to stealthily ask the boyfriends how he is during our coffee dates on campus, but the courage flees before I’m able to—though since they haven’t mentioned anything, I’m assuming he’s doing as okay as he can be.

  I cling to that assumption.

  I glance at my phone and note that class starts in less than two minutes. Students rush in, barely beating the clock.

  A tingle starts at the base of my spine when someone slips into the seat next to me. It’s soft but persistent, and I don’t have to look over to know who it is. I haven’t felt this since…

  “This seat isn’t taken, is it?”

  His voice slides over me like velvet, and my whole body heats up like it hasn’t in months.

  I’m frozen in my chair, too shocked to look over at him.

  What if he’s not real? What if I’m making this up in my head because I want him to be real so badly? But that wouldn’t explain the way my body is lighting up…

  “I’m hoping that’s a no.”

  That voice.

  Finally, I cast my eyes his way, and when our gazes connect, everything feels…right.

  To many, he’d look the same as he did six months ago. His brown hair is a chaotic mess and his lips are the same full, kissable ones they’ve always been. His jaw is still lined with that constant stubble and his nose is as sharp as ever.

  But his eyes? Oh, man, his eyes. They’re the clearest I’ve ever seen them. Gone is the weight he carried around, the unfathomable guilt. His steel stare is happy—genuinely—and full of hope.

  He’s changed, and it’s a damn good change.

  “No, it’s not taken.”

  “Good. That’s good.” He grins and sticks his hand out. “Hi. I’m Carsen Wheatley. I’m a new student here. Have any pointers for me?”

  I try not to laugh. The moment I clasp his hand in mine, my skin is on fire. He pulls me in toward him.

  “Elliott Mathers, and yeah, I have a little advice.”

  He raises a brow. “Yeah?”

  “Keep your hands off the nacho cheese sauce in the food court.”

  * * *

  THE END

  Acknowledgments

  My Marine, you are my everything. Always and forever. You’ve given me ten years of insanity and bliss all rolled into one. I couldn’t have asked for anything else. Thank you. I love you.

  Anna, check yes or no. I love you.

  My other husband, you’re in this book again. WHY?!

  B, I miss you. Like really, really miss you. I miss your laugh and silly sense of humor. We need us time.

  Yo, Jamie! Bitch.

  #soulmate and Dammit Diann, you two complete me. The Marine will never forget being humped by Dammit Diann. Thank you for that beautiful memory. I love you both.

  Caitlin, my amazing editor, you make my writing so much better. Thank you for everything.

  C, Kristann, Nikki, you guys are awesome! BETA LOVE. Except C. No one really likes you, C.

  I heard Colleen Hoover eats her own boogers.

  BS, you’re all the worst. And still somehow the best. Keep that shit up.

  To my family, by blood or marriage, your support means everything.

  Teagan’s Tidbits, my kickass reader group, you are all awesome. You give me a space that allows me to simply be me. You don’t even get tired of my SPN memes or my cooking fails, and I love that. You have my back, and I love that even more. Thank you.

  Reader, thank you for all your support. This book made me incredibly nervous to release. It’s not because I don’t love the story or the characters or because I’m not proud of the writing—because all three of those things couldn’t be more true. I was nervous because it’s not part of a series, not part of that world you’re used to from me. I thank you for giving Elliott and Carsen a chance and hope you enjoyed reading about them as much as I enjoyed writing them. If you happened to have fallen in love with any side characters, keep your eyes peeled for more from them.

  * * *

  With love and unwavering gratitude,

  Teagan

  TEAGAN HUNTER is a romance cover artist by day and a writer by…well, every free moment she gets. She currently lives in North Carolina with her Marine husband, where she spends her days bugging him about getting a cat so their puppy won’t be alone (he keeps saying no). Teagan survives off coffee, pizza, and sarcasm. When she’s not writing, you can find her binge-watching various TV shows, especially Supernatural. She likes cold weather, buys more paperbacks than she’ll ever read, and never matches her socks—unless they’re fuzzy.

  She’s weird. It’s kind of her “thing.”

  You can find Teagan on:

  @THunterWrites

  Teaganhunterwrites

  https://teaganhunterwrites.com

  teaganhunterwrites@gmail.com

  Also by Teagan Hunter

  Here’s to Tomorrow

  Here’s to Yesterday

  Here’s to Forever: A Novella

  Here’s to Now

  * * *

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