Chapter 11
JACKSON
By the time I get back to my dorm, I’m ready to fall asleep until May, but movement catches my eye. “Holy fuck!” I yelp, nearly jumping out of my skin.
Ryan stands at the dresser, completely naked, his head under a towel that he’s using to dry his hair. “Welcome back,” he says mildly, as if he isn’t standing there with his penis on full display. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer. Tough workout?”
I avert my eyes up to the ceiling. “Could you maybe put on some pants before I answer your question?”
“Says the guy who parades his penile tumescence around for the world to see.” He opens a drawer. “I just got out of the shower. You’re the one who barged in without asking if I was decent first.” The sound of fabric rustling tells me he’s getting dressed. “What has you so rattled, roomie?”
I chance a look. He’s in a pair of white briefs and pulling on an extra-large sweater.
“It’s complicated.” My legs feel like concrete as I drag myself to my bed, the mattress springs groaning in protest as I let gravity pull me down. The cool fabric of my comforter presses against my cheek, muffling the frustrated groan that escapes from somewhere deep in my chest.
“Try me.” He puts on a pair of sweatpants and sits down at the desk. “You were working out with Arthur and Tyrell, right? Did something happen? Did you get hurt? Did they?”
I roll over to stare at the ceiling, debating what to tell him. On one hand, he’s my roommate and friend. On the other hand, am I ready to say something to someone?
“Jackson.” His voice has a gentle, measured quality, which suggests he’s concerned. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Fuck it. I sit up and run my hands through my hair until it’s sticking up in every direction. “Okay, but you have to swear you won’t tell anyone.”
“Scout’s honor.” He holds up three fingers. “Though I was never a Scout. Too much organized physical activity.”
“It’s about the Ice Queen’s blog. Have you read it?”
“I have.” Ryan blinks at me, his eyes growing wider with each passing second as it sinks in. “You like Drew.”
“I do. I can’t say for sure why or how, just that the mere thought of him makes my palms sweat and my heart race.”
“And I take it you’re not going to tell Drew any of this?”
“Hell no. That’s the last thing I’m going to tell him.”
“So, you’re going to…what? Pine over him for the rest of your time here at BSU? Let the Ice Queen take pictures of you making heart eyes at him and gossip about it online to anyone who will listen? Debase yourself to the image of Drew in his hockey uniform when I’m not here?”
“I do no such thing.”
“Please, Jackson,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Our room has a permanent semen stench. And I know it’s not from me, because you know I don’t do that.”
My face burns at the revelation that I’m not as sneaky with my private time as I’d thought I was. But then again, Ryan’s a genius. I should have known I wouldn’t get anything past him.
“You can’t tell anyone, Ryan. I mean it. No one knows about my feelings for Drew. Not even Elliot.”
“Wow. Isn’t Elliot like a brother to you?”
“He is, but he’ll tell Gerard because that’s what boyfriends do. They don’t keep secrets from each other. And Gerard isn’t the brightest bulb. I can’t risk him slipping up to Drew, or to any of the other guys on the team, and it gets back to Drew.”
Ryan sighs. “Your secret is safe with me, Jackson. On one condition.”
I narrow my eyes. “Am I about to be blackmailed?”
“Don’t think of it as blackmail. Think of it as a simple exchange between friends.
” He fidgets with the hem of his sweater, which means he’s nervous about something.
“There’s a comet passing over Berkeley Shore tonight.
Hale-Bopp’s little cousin. It won’t be visible again for another forty-seven years. ”
“Ryan…”
“I want to watch it from the astronomy tower, but they require a buddy system after dark. Safety protocols.” He pushes his glasses up his nose. “Come with me.”
I balk. “It’s January. It’s freezing. And we have classes tomorrow.”
“It’ll only be two hours of your time. The comet is supposed to pass over us shortly after midnight. Please? I’ll even bring hot chocolate.”
I know I’m going to regret this, but he is my friend. I can’t say no. “Fine. But the hot chocolate had better be the good kind. You know, with marshmallows.”
“Deal.” He smiles wide. “And Jackson, for what it’s worth, you’ll be okay. You’ve been hiding how you feel about Drew for who knows how long, and you’re still alive and kicking.”
The problem, I think, but don’t say, is that I may be kicking, but am I really living if I can’t be honest with myself?
“I need a nap before tonight,” I announce, getting under the covers and smothering my face in the pillow.
“I’ll wake you in two hours,” Ryan says, pulling out star charts, something he always does before a night of stargazing.
Joseph, Mary, and the donkey! My fleece jacket might as well be invisible for all the protection it offers against the biting wind.
“Almost there!” Ryan calls back cheerfully as we climb the narrow metal stairs that spiral up the outside of the building.
He’s wearing seventeen layers, a puffy coat, and is carrying a thermos that better contain the world’s best hot chocolate, or else I’m throwing him off this tower, roommate or not.
“You know,” I wheeze, my breath forming clouds that get whipped away by the wind, “when you said astronomy tower, I pictured something with walls. And heat. And possibly a floor that doesn’t shake every time we take a step.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Jackson?” He reaches the observation platform first and jumps for joy. “Besides, the best views require a little suffering. Like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty. You can’t get to the top of those with a snap of your fingers.”
The metal platform clangs under my boots as I step onto the exposed roof.
My ears burn from the cold as the wind whips my hair into my eyes.
I press my back against one of the telescope mounts, its frigid surface seeping through my clothes, and wrap my arms around myself.
The railing that’s supposed to keep us from plummeting to our deaths vibrates with each gust.
Ryan is in his element, though, which makes it marginally worth it. He sets down his backpack and pulls out blankets, a star chart, and a pair of binoculars that probably cost more than my car. “Here,” he hands me the thermos. “Drink before you turn into a Jackson-sicle.”
My frozen fingers tingle as they wrap around the metal container.
Steam curls from the thermos cap as I take a sip, the liquid scorching a path down my throat and spreading warmth through my chest. I wince, then go back for more, tasting bitter chocolate underneath a layer of half-dissolved marshmallow that clings to my upper lip.
“Okay, this almost makes up for the stairs.”
Ryan spreads the blanket out on the ground and sits down, patting the space next to him. “Come on, we’ve got about twenty minutes before the comet passes over us.”
I join him, my knees popping as I lower myself onto the scratchy wool.
Below us, yellow squares of light checker the darkness.
The new neon coffee cup sign at The Brew flickers, and I can almost smell the espresso from here.
My eyes drift east to where Infinity Arena sits silent, its massive silhouette blocking out some of the stars.
In four days, those seats will vibrate with stomping feet, and somewhere in that darkness, Drew will slice across the ice, his number catching the spotlight.
“So, what got you into all this anyway? The astronomy, I mean,” I ask to distract myself from more thoughts of Drew.
Ryan fiddles with the focusing ring on his binoculars, the silence between us filled only by the click of metal against metal and the distant howl of the wind.
“My mom. She died when I was seven.” He says it matter-of-factly, but I hear the pain underneath.
“Cancer. It was quick, which I guess was a mercy, but at the time, I didn’t understand why she disappeared. ”
“Ryan, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay.” He pulls his knees up to his chest, making himself smaller.
“The last good memory I have of her, before the hospital visits and the treatments, is this camping trip we took. It was just the two of us. Father didn’t want to go, nor did Marvin.
We went to a place in West Virginia where the light pollution is basically zero.
” He pauses, and I stay quiet, sensing there’s more.
“She woke me up at two in the morning to show me the meteor shower. I’d never seen anything like it—streaks of light shooting through the sky.
It was like the universe was putting on a show.
She told me that some of those meteors were older than Earth itself.
That they’d been traveling through space for billions of years only to burn up in our atmosphere for a few seconds of beauty.
” His voice softens, getting lost in the wind.
“She said that’s what life was like—this brief, brilliant moment of light in the darkness. That we should make it count.”
My chest aches for seven-year-old Ryan, trying to make sense of loss through the lens of cosmic phenomena. “That’s beautiful.”
“After she died, I became obsessed with space. I think I thought if I learned enough about the universe, I could somehow understand why she had to leave me.” He chuckles, but it’s hollow. “Turns out the universe doesn’t give you answers. Only more questions.”
“Is that why you still do it? Look at the stars?”
“Partially. But also…” He tilts his head back to scan the sky. “It makes me feel connected to her. And every time I see something spectacular, whether it be a meteor shower, an eclipse, or a comet, I like to believe that she’s showing it to me.”