Of All The Stars

by Ally B

  “They will,” Kendall says, reassuring herself more than anyone else.

  “Does this game mean playoffs?” Gabby asks no one in particular.

  “No,” I answer. “There’s a few more next week. Three, I think.”

  She nods before we all return to our silence, watching the game on the edge of our seats.

  “Calvin is playing so much better right now. What the hell is going on?” Violet shakes her head.

  “Max isn’t there to make him nervous,” Ava contributes. “He doesn’t feel like anything is stopping him, so his mental blocks are gone.”

  Everyone seems to be as shocked by Ava’s statement as I am. I love the girl, but I never thought she would think like that.

  Maybe that’s what Max likes about her, unpredictability.

  “I wish I could tell Jackson to trip him,” Violet mutters, leaning all the way forward in her seat.

  St. Paul is focused on Calvin, seeing that the team has relied on him the entire time. So of course, Campbell scores.

  “They’re too tired.” Violet shakes her head “There’s no way they’re going to come back from this.”

  “It’s two point. They have fifteen minutes.” Gabby says. “They can do it.”

  “Maybe if they were playing basketball,” Ava mutters.

  The game continues with a back and forth. Jackson scores with seven minutes left, and they manage to keep the ball away from our goal. I can see Calvin getting more and more tired as Jackson quite literally runs him in circles, clearly doing it on purpose.

  There are two minutes left when Tommy scores.

  “If this ends in a shootout, I think I actually might cry.” Kendall breaks the crowd’s silence.

  “It won’t.” Vi shakes her head.

  Max and Bill both look like they’re going to rip their hair out, watching intently as time ticks down and nothing happens.

  Calvin is too tired. Campbell tries to compensate, but that just pisses him off.

  Both Riley and Tommy get close to scoring a few times, but their goalie is too fast.

  With ten seconds left on the clock, the crowd is getting restless. Max looks like he’s going to throw up as he taps his uncast foot impatiently. Jackson and Tommy exchange a look before Jackson runs toward him. Calvin and the goalie are both caught off guard, watching as Jackson runs across the field toward Tommy with no apparent intent of stopping.

  “What the fuck?” Violet mutters.

  And then Jackson kicks the ball all the way across the field to Riley, who boots it into the goal before the goalie can even turn to look at him.

  The buzzer sounds signaling the end of the game before the clock has even stopped for the goal, and the crowd goes wild.

  Neither team on the field reacts, though. All of them appear to be too shocked by the outcome as they retreat to their respective benches. Emerson finally celebrates when they get to Max, who’s shouting something I can’t hear.

  One step closer to Stanford, right?

  Orion

  The Hunter

  “They’re going to Jackson’s.” Vi reads off her phone as we walk toward the field entrance where a sea of parents have already gathered.

  “I’m Max’s ride,” I tell her. “Who’s going?”

  “Everyone.” She looks slightly to her left, where Graham and Gabby are laughing at something one of them said.

  “Max will want to go,” I sigh.

  “I can drive him if you don’t want to go.” She offers.

  “No, I’ve got it. It’ll be fun.” I shake my head, not telling her the real reason I want to go is that I don’t believe she won’t drink.

  The boys begin to look through the crowd for their parents, Max and Bill walking far behind them talking about something. Violet squeals as she runs toward Jackson and pulls him in for a tight hug.

  “Remind me to never coach?” Max says as he approaches me. “That was the worst two hours of my life.”

  “Not when you were in a car accident? Or in surgery?”

  “The order goes, you almost dying, that game, and then the accident,” he says as we walk through the crowd toward the parking lot. “There’s this thing at Jackson’s if you want to go. If not, that’s cool too.”

  “You really think Vi didn’t talk to me about it already?” I ask as we approach my car.

  He shakes his head as he gets into my passenger seat. “Do you want to go?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, staring up at the perfectly clear sky through my windshield.

  “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he says.

  “I know.” I shrug, carefully backing out of my parking spot. “Is your ankle feeling okay?”

  “Yeah.” He sighs.

  “That wasn’t reassuring,” I say as I sit in the line of cars.

  “It’s fine. I’m just sore.”

  “You sound tired.”

  “Trying to figure out creative ways to drag myself up and down the stairs is taking a lot out of me.” He sinks down in his seat.

  I move forward in the line, making sure Max’s seatbelt is buckled. “You should just sleep in the guest room.”

  “I know.” He sighs.

  “How do you feeling about the game?” I ask as I pull out of the parking lot, knowing how hard it is on him.

  “I’m just surprised they won.” He shakes his head. “Calvin was really good tonight. I don’t know how they did it.”

  “That’s not cocky at all.” I roll my eyes.

  “You know what I mean.”

  I shake my head in disapproval and let out a sigh. Of course, I do. “Are you allowed to drink on your meds?” I ask him.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Not really feeling it anyway. You going to get blackout drunk again tonight?”

  “I’ll make you walk,” I warn.

  “Now, Phoebe, you have to remember that we don’t take drinks from guys at parties.” He jokingly lectures.

  “Now, Max, you have to remember that all I have to do is stomp on your other foot and kick you out of the car.”

  “I’m honestly starting to fear for my life.” He jokes.

  “It’s payback for making me fear for your life.”

  “Ohhhh, got it.” He pauses. “Thanks for getting Mi to the hospital, by the way.”

  “Thank Jerry,” I tell him honestly. “I wasn’t exactly functioning.”

  “I love that guy.” He grins.

  “You should come see him sometime next week. You’re skipping practice, anyway.”

  “Maybe I will. You’re working Monday?” He asks as we turn onto Jackson’s street.

  “Yeah.” I nod, reluctantly parallel parking between Violet and Tommy’s cars.

  I climb out of the car and grab Max’s crutches from the back seat before opening his door for him.

  “You know how much this bothers me, right?” He asks as I hold out his crutches, closing the door behind him.

  “Why else would I be milking it so much?” I ask, opening Jackson’s front door for him. “Now you understand how much it annoys me when you do it.”

  “It’s the nice thing to do,” he defends as I close the door behind him.

  “Then why does it annoy you so much when I do it?” I raise my eyebrows.

  He lets out a long sigh as we walk toward the backyard. “Societally conditioned gender roles are fucked up.”

  “Well, you two have fun car-convos.” Ava giggles.

  Max looks at me for a moment.

  “Go.” I give him an encouraging smile.

  He looks wearily toward Graham and Gabby in the corner, but I just shake my head.

  “Let’s get the glitter off of your face?” Vi approaches me, grabbing my hand and leading me into the bathroom. As soon as the door is shut, she squeals. “Jackson asked me to homecoming!”

  “He waited until the day before?” I nearly laugh.

  “But he asked! I won!” She beams.

  “You won?”

  “I didn’t have to
ask!”

  “You guys would’ve ended up going together even if neither of you asked.” I shake my head as she hands me a makeup wipe.

  “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have won.” She leans against the wall as I scrub the glitter off of my cheeks.

  “This stuff gets everywhere.” I huff.

  “The herpes of the craft world.” She grins. “Are you going with Graham?”

  “Yeah.” I nod.

  “Are you guys still a thing? You avoided him like the plague today.”

  “I don’t know.” I sigh. “I obviously want it to work, but I really don’t know.”

  “You exhaust me.” She sighs. “Just date Max,” she jokes. “We already know you’re perfect for each other.”

  “As if.” I roll my eyes, throwing the makeup wipe into the trash can.

  “Okay. Don’t drink tonight, got it?” She asks as she opens the door. “Seriously. If Graham tries to hand you any unsealed containers, opened cans, or a red Solo cup, just run. Fast and far.” She laughs at herself.

  “Go hang with Jackson.” I wave her away.

  People start to fill the house, but I always manage to find an empty corner or a seat near Violet (who does end up in the pool) as I scan the crowd for Max.

  When I can’t find him, I begin to worry.

  I ask a million different people, but no one has seen him.

  I let out a long sigh before approaching Graham. “Have you seen Max?”

  “No,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. “Gabby?”

  “I’m assuming she’s with Ava somewhere.” I shrug.

  “When do you want to meet for tomorrow night?” He asks me.

  Of course, I forgot to tell him. “Pictures at Jackson’s at 7:00.”

  “Doesn’t the dance start at 7:00?” He asks.

  “If you’re a freshman with no one to tell you any better.”

  “Got it.” He nods.

  “See you then? I ask

  “Yeah.”

  I don’t bother trying to come up with something to say, opting to just go and ask someone else.

  “Have you seen Max?”

  “I think I saw him in the kitchen.” Kendall shrugs, effortlessly sinking a ping pong ball into a cup on the other side of the table before throwing her arms in the air victoriously.

  The pristine white kitchen is just as crowded as the rest of the house. There are empty cups and spilled drinks covering the once-clean white floor. I don’t know how Jackson does it.

  “Hey, have you seen Max?” I ask Riley, who’s talking to a somewhat-familiar sophomore.

  “Yeah, he and Ava went upstairs but I wouldn’t—”

  “Thanks,” I say, pushing through the crowd.

  I walk up the dark hardwood stairs, poking my head into every room as I call Max’s name. “Max!”

  I finally find Max and Ava in the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, but I really wish I hadn’t.

  Ava is pressed against a wall with one of her legs wrapped around Max’s waist. His hand is gripping her upper thigh under her white tennis skirt as they make out.

  I want to fucking die.

  “Phoebe!” He’s startled. Of course he’s fucking startled.

  “Sorry,” I say, literally running out of the room and down the stairs.

  I crouch down next to the pool where a group has gathered, trying to blend, clearly not caring about the fact that it’s fifty-five degrees outside in the eighty-degree water.

  “Vi?” I say, trying not to draw attention.

  “Hmm?” She asks. Her entire body is soaked, but somehow her black winged eyeliner is still perfect.

  “I’m going to go home. If you could just make sure Max gets home safely, that would be great.”

  “What’s wrong?” She asks as someone jumps into the pool on the other side, splashing water everywhere.

  “I might actually die of embarrassment if I drive him home. I love you. Have a great night.” I stand up and turn, walking back toward the kitchen

  “How are you embarrassed of Max? Wait. What?” She asks, using the edge of the pool to push herself up.

  “Have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow!” I shout as I move through the kitchen with my head down, praying that Max didn’t follow me downstairs.

  “Phoebe!” He shouts over the crowd.

  I push through the crowded kitchen the best I can, unlocking the car before I even close the front door. Do I feel terrible for slamming a door in his face? Absolutely. Would I feel worse having to actually talk to him about this? Yes. I consider it self-preservation as I start my car, impatiently waiting for a grey Sedan to pass so I can leave.

  “Phoebe!” Max bangs on the window.

  “Violet will give you a ride,” I shout as the car passes.

  “Phoebe!” He yells, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s laughing his ass off.

  How is he laughing? I’m emotionally scarred. Maybe I’ll actually go to my next therapy appointments my mom scheduled instead of calling pretending to be her and saying I’m sick like I’d planned after chewing out Dr. Hines.

  “Phoebe Mitchell! Unlock the door!” He yells. At least he’s kind-of stopped laughing. That’s good.

  “I’m not dealing with this right now! The shit you put me through!” I roll down the window to yell at him. “I’m going home.”

  “Then let me in.” He huffs.

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  “Okay.” He tries to hide the fact that he’s laughing, which I really don’t appreciate.

  I unlock the door, and he climbs into the car, throwing his crutches in the back seat.

  “I—”

  “I said I’m not talking to you.” I stare ahead at the road, turning the volume up all of the way on the radio.

  “You’re big on country music now?” He asks.

  “Yep!” I shout over the music, pulling away from the curb and driving down the road toward our houses.

  “Pheebs, I—”

  “We aren’t talking, remember?” I ask him.

  “I can’t believe you’re serious.” He shakes his head.

  “You’re paying for my therapy.”

  “It’s not that weird!” He defends. “It’s not like we were fu—”

  “Maximillian Sanchez, that was the worst thing that happened this week.” I half-joke.

  “Not when you didn’t know if I was alive, not your dad—”

  “That was the worst.” I cut him off.

  Thankfully, we make it home before he decides to make things even more uncomfortable. I drop him off in his driveway, not saying anything as he opens his own door.

  “See you tomorrow when you’re over this?” He still has an amused look on his face.

  “Maybe.” I glare at him. “If you’re lucky.”

  “Love you!” He shouts as he closes his door and walks toward his house.

  “Love you, too. Sometimes.” Like when I don’t see you making out with my cousin.

  I shower as soon as I get home, throwing my damp hair into a bun before burying myself in my comforter.

  Max

  I’m pledging abstinence and joining a monastery tomorrow - Max

  Don’t forget me - Max

  I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you - Phoebe

  Jesus is always watching. - Phoebe

  I have a catholic grandmother - Max

  I don’t need this from you, too - Max

  Apparently she didn’t get it in your head well enough

  I set my phone down on my nightstand before turning off my lamp and resting my head on my pillow—that still smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo.

  I feel nauseous but somehow comforted. What the hell is wrong with me? Whatever it is, it’s disturbing, almost as disturbing as watching Max make out with Ava.

  137.

  137 three times.

  Cepheus

  The King

  “Big day!” Violet shrieks as she turns into her driveway.

  �
�I can’t believe we missed the football game.” Kendall huffs, crossing her arms.

  “Kendall, everyone missed the football game. If they want people to watch sports, they shouldn’t make them start at ten in the morning.”

  She puts the car in park before turning it off. “Everyone have everything? If I have to drive to Sephora, I don’t want it to be when I’m half-ready.”

  “Vi, you’re the only one who’s doing anything with their makeup,” Kendall says as she climbs out of the passenger seat, slamming the door behind her.

  I follow Kendall out of the car, throwing my garment bag over one shoulder along with my middle-school backpack with all of my makeup and hair stuff in it.

  “You guys are doing stuff with your makeup.” She huffs, locking her car behind us.

  “Hey, Mrs. Nakamura!” Kendall calls to Violet’s mom.

  “Hey,” I add.

  “Let me know if you girls need anything,” she says as Violet runs up the stairs.

  “Thank you.” Kendall and I say in unison, running up after Vi.

  “Phoebe, what are we doing with your hair?” Vi asks me. “Straightening or leaving it?”

  “I’m going to straighten it,” I tell her as I drop my bag on the bathroom counter, digging through my bag and pulling out my flat iron.

  Violet connects her phone to her Bluetooth speaker and begins her One Direction playlist as I tie my hair into sections, knowing it’s going to take me longer to do my hair than they will take to do theirs.

  “Do you want help?” Kendall offers. “It’s going to take me like five minutes to do my hair. I’m just putting it up.”

  “I’m fine.” I wave the offer away.

  “Oh shush,” Violet says, plugging in her straightener next to mine. “We’re helping.

  Kendall and I manage to straighten my hair in record time while Violet curls her collarbone-length bob, offering moral support.

  “Are the boys coming here, or are we going to Jackson’s?” Kendall asks Vi.

  “Jackson’s. I don’t want my parents involved in this in any way.”

  Vi starts her makeup when Kendall starts her own hair, brushing it up into a sleek bun.