Chapter 8
CADEN
I followed her.
It barely took five minutes of silent debate in my head before I threw her notebook back onto her bed, grabbed my blanket and pillow, then her pillow, and followed downstairs.
I’d have done it for any girl, I kept telling myself. What kind of person would let her sleep outside in the middle of nowhere? By herself? Not even her worst enemy—which, at the moment, seemed to be me.
So, I’d tiptoed through the house, slipped out the back, and spotted Valentina on one of the lounge chairs overlooking the ocean from the edge of the Dunbridge’s property.
She seemed to have just gotten comfortable.
Her blanket spilled over the edges, she turned from one side to the other, shifting and moving until she found a comfortable position.
Or a position considered comfortable for the situation she’d found herself in.
I felt kind of bad when I stopped by her side, still undetected, and said quietly, trying my best not to scare her, Anybody missing a pillow?
She shrieked like I’d just rammed a knife into her chest, regardless. Valentina jumped, her hands clenched into fists in front of her, and I kind of liked that she seemed ready to fight, at the very least.
Caden! she gasped when she finally spotted me, and it was hard to focus on anything but the way she said my name.
The panic in her voice raised it a few octaves, and it paired beautifully with the relief in her tone.
What the fuck is wrong with you? You go on this whole tangent that I’m not safe out here, then you decide to sneak up on me?
Are you trying to give me a heart attack—why are you smiling?
I wish I knew.
Sorry, I apologized. At least partly for the smile I still couldn’t do anything about.
In my defense, I wasn’t trying to scare you.
But the waves do cancel out most noises around you.
Another reason why being—sleeping out here by yourself isn’t the…
safest option. I held the pillow out to her, and she took it without comment.
Valentina must’ve calmed down enough to really look at me.
Her eyes had probably adjusted to the darkness around us better than mine had by now, and I was more than just a threatening dark shadow.
Unfortunately, that drew her attention to the rest of me.
Is that a blanket? she asked, right as it dawned on her. Oh, no. Her head shook. You’re not—
My pillow and blanket landed on the next lounge chair over, in sync with the way she collapsed back into her bed for the night.
I came here to get away from you! she groaned, then went completely rigid the next second. Like she hadn’t meant for the confession to be… confessed.
Interesting. I slipped onto the chair, under my blanket, and turned toward her. I thought it was for that bucket list of yours. She did not meet my eyes, even when I mindlessly continued, Now, why would you need to get away from me, if not—
If not for the fact that she felt this gravitational pull toward me, too. If not for the fact that I wasn’t misinterpreting the way she looked at me, the way her breathing changed when she stood close, the way her eyes found mine more often than she’d like to admit.
I didn’t dare finish my sentence because I wasn’t quite sure what she’d do to me—and I didn’t want to find out. We lay in tense silence on the lounge chairs beside each other, the ominous sound of the ocean around us, and didn’t say a word.
Valentina was looking up at the sky, and it was just my luck that the moon was bright enough, I could make out her profile.
The tip of her button nose, prominent jawline, round cheeks.
Her hair, tangled up in a high, messy bun.
Like she could feel my eyes on her, she asked into the darkness, You can’t just leave me alone?
There was no need to consider. Or to pretend to consider. No.
I don’t know why, either, I wanted to add.
She sighed, and for the second time tonight, it felt like she was giving up. What exactly, I wasn’t sure.
Are you looking at me? she wondered, still not looking at me.
There was no point in denying this, either. Yes.
Another huff. Do yourself a favor and look at the damn sky, Caden.
My expectations weren’t high when I followed her orders (before I had the chance to say something else I’d regret).
A partially cloudy sky, some stars to twinkle back at me, that I could perhaps still find the big dipper constellation, if I tried really hard.
But I did not expect something that looked straight out of a high-budget documentary.
It was a cloudless night. Thousands—millions of stars against a black backdrop waving back at me when I looked up.
Only that the sky wasn’t really dark, instead illuminated by whatever was out there, never to be discovered.
It felt life-altering, in a way, to see the vastness of the universe with your naked eyes.
I didn’t remember the last time I’d left the city. The last time I’d actively looked at the sky—with the intention of stargazing—was with Alison. And she’d died seven years ago.
There’s so many of them, I muttered, only to keep my mind from going there. Light pollution really is a bitch.
There was a laugh beside me, singular and too low for the satisfaction that was beginning to curl in the pit of my stomach.
I guess what Valentina had given up earlier was her plan of ignoring me, because she asked, How good are you with your constellations?
I’m not.
Another laugh. Another bloom of pride in my chest.
She pointed a finger at the vast sky, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her I had no idea what the hell she was pointing at. Until she said, hesitantly, Those are the dippers.
And the exact memory I’d been trying to suppress punched me in the gut. Hard.
Those are the dippers. Alison’s head rested on Caden’s shoulder, and he felt it was kind of ironic, since his sister’s life rested on them, too.
Sleepily, the girl pointed at the sky above them.
The small one’s down there. The big one’s up there.
Do you see the thing that could kind of form a kite, as well? That’s the big dipper.
But Caden wasn’t looking up. He had trouble even keeping his eyes from closing after he’d opened the store at six in the morning. He’d managed to squeeze two and a half shifts in today, and when he’d told his Mom he still wanted to go and see Alison after he got home, she declared him a lunatic.
She’d still driven him there. No license—all that money wasted on lessons and a second car was going toward Alison, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Then, a few more of those opening shifts (a few more hundred of them) and she might even get to come home again.
Yes, Caden drawled. The dippers. Beautiful. His head rested on top of Alison’s. It wasn’t his decision. Really. Unfortunately, he could feel her shifting, then her head flew off his shoulder, and she pointed an accusatory finger.
Caden! The laugh bubbled out of her, care-free and happy. Somehow, Alison was still the happiest ten-year-old in the world. You’re not even looking!
He shook his head vehemently, but couldn’t suppress a smile.
No, no. I was. His head finally fell back, and he pointed at a random set of stars.
See, there they are, he said, and tried to sound as convinced about it as she’d want him to.
Which meant he didn’t sound convincing at all—only to hear his sister laugh again.
You’re a liar. A giggle followed the words, then intensified when Caden gasped dramatically.
Alison Callahan! he said. How dare you accuse me of something so cruel.
In return, she gave him a look. Her brows drew up, and her smile deepened, and for a brief moment, Caden was reminded of how much he would do for his sister—how much he’d already done and how much more he would, if it meant he didn’t have to lose her.
If it meant he could make her laugh like this forever.
Alright, alright. His hands drew up in surrender. Show me the dippers.
And so, on a partially cloudy night, as they sat on a park bench outside the Children’s Cancer Center, Caden Callahan looked up at the night sky with his little sister, one last time.
I blinked so rapidly, for a moment it was so dark, I thought the sky had just been… turned off. Taking a deep breath— and then a couple more—I buried that memory back where it came from, and turned my head hearing Valentina’s voice.
You see them? she asked, and I nodded despite the fact that she was still looking up, not at me. For the first time, her aversion of eye contact was appreciated. At least until I got my shit together.
Mhm, I hummed.
From the way my body had been reacting to her, I thought my heart might skip a beat or my breath would catch, when she finally turned toward me again. But a sense of calm swept through me instead, gently and barely noticeable.
You’re looking at me again, she noted, less taken aback by it. Almost like she’d been expecting it.
I am.
I couldn’t make my eyes follow hers when she looked back up, so I watched her point at another constellation, and the view was just as good.
That’s Orion over there. Leo here.
And to stop her from forcing me to find them, too, I asked, a little impressed, When did you learn all this?
Valentina huffed, and her gaze connected with mine again, assessing the sincerity of my question. Another five seconds of her eyes on me, and I couldn’t be held accountable for what I might say after.
I want you, maybe. I need you on a level I didn’t know was possible.
Whenever I got a free minute, she began, and tucked a loose strand behind her ear.
Then shook her head, and started over. When I was younger, and I managed to get a free minute, I used to climb onto our roof and just…
sit there. I looked up, and there was this whole world around us I couldn’t explain.
An entire world that seemed so quiet and calm and beautiful.
I guess it felt like somewhere to escape to?
Eventually, I found a used stargazing guide in the bookshop, and the guy behind the counter gave it to me for free.
I would’ve paid him, if I could have. Really! I felt so bad—
Why were free minutes so rare? What kept you so busy as a child? Why couldn’t you pay him?
Escape from what?
It felt like crossing a whole bunch of boundaries to get answers to my questions, so I settled on, So now you’re a professional on constellations?
She laughed again, this time at me. And I thought I might play dumb for the rest of my life if it amused her. I couldn’t help it.
I’m not about to go through two excruciating years of a graduate program for nothing, she snickered. A yawn rattled through her before she extended her hand to me and said, Geo and Space Physics. Nice to meet you, like she was introducing herself.
Her handshake didn’t feel very strong, and her eyes continued falling shut every few seconds. I wasn’t sure if she’d remember how nice it was to meet me tomorrow. For now, I’d take advantage of it, though.
Computer Engineering. Pleasure to meet you, Geo and Space Physics.
Valentina giggled, wearily drew back her hand and placed it under her head. Her eyes were closed, but she was still facing me. Graduate degree? she asked.
Yes, ma’am.
Her lips twitched again. She yawned again. At HBU?
Yeah.
So even after this whole mess, I won’t be rid of you? You’ll follow me all the way back to school? She barely managed to get the words out before her breaths evened out. Her eyes stayed closed, and she snuggled deeper into the blanket.
Valentina was asleep, and perhaps that’s why I shamelessly said, And I’m not sorry about it.