She Dims the Stars (7 page)

Nightstand to the right of the bed with one charger, a small lamp, and a place to take my jewelry off at night. One dresser behind me with a television. Small closet that holds just enough clothes to get me through the semester, because the other half of it is where I have shoved a bookcase full of fiction.

I open my eyes and idly wonder if I should bring something to read. It’s a six hour drive to Elliot’s house where we’ll be getting his camping gear for the remainder of the trip. Another eight hours to Grandma Ruth’s. The plan is wide open from there, and it makes my skin itch to not have some semblance of order to follow. I
need
order.

The thoughts of what could potentially go wrong start to gather in my head, and I can feel my jaw start to tense, so I close my eyes again and breathe in and out as deeply as I can in counts of seven.

It takes a few minutes, but I get a handle on it, and my heart rate slows enough for me to focus and silently begin to fill my bag with things I need to take with me. Not the least of which is a flower-printed bag full of orange bottles.

Elliot has an Xterra, and for some reason, that is unexpected. “You go off-roading a lot?” I ask, shifting my bag from one shoulder to the other as he checks the tire pressure on the front driver’s side wheel.

He looks up and squints at me, one eye smaller than the other as his tongue peeks out between his lips. “No. Why?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I push up on my toes and chance a peek inside to see if his car is as dirty as his room. It’s not, and that, too, is surprising.

He stands and straightens his t-shirt, the material getting caught on his broad shoulders. “I cleaned it. Vacuumed and whatnot. Thought you wouldn’t want to ride for that long with Taco Bell wrappers under your feet.”

I pretend to swoon, pressing my hands to my chest. “And in that moment, I swear I fell in love with you, Elliot.”

He tosses the pressure gauge in the air and catches it before giving me a dirty look. “A thank you would have worked just fine, smart ass.”

“Thank you,” I concede.

Suddenly, the door to their apartment is thrown wide open, and Cline, in all his disheveled glory, lumbers onto the sidewalk, half dressed and pissed off. Hazel eyes are barely visible as he stares us down, pointing a thick arm and long finger at Elliot. “Where the hell are you going?”

Elliot straightens his shoulders and faces his best friend, his neck tilted a little as they come toe to toe. Cline’s extra two inches barely make a difference when Elliot mans up. Witnessing this makes something in my stomach flutter.

“I’m taking Audrey to North Carolina to her grandmother’s house to see if she can get info on her mom.”

Cline’s eyes go wide, and his head snaps in my direction. “Granny Ruth? The psycho? She won’t even let you near her house. How are you supposed to even—“ He puts both hands up and gives a sarcastic frown. “You know what? I told myself that this was none of my business. I did. I said, ‘Cline, man, this is none of your business.’ But now you’ve roped my roommate into driving you, like, twenty hours to go see someone who won’t even speak to you.” He bounces a little on the word ‘speak,’ pulling his fists against his chest as his voice rises. “So
now
it’s my business. She’s using you, dude. Just like she does with everybody else.”

“It’s fourteen hours from Tennessee to North Carolina, actually,” I correct him.

“And I volunteered.” Elliot pushes the pressure gauge into his pocket and crosses his arms like that should be it. Final. Over.

But I know better.

Cline bends forward at the waist, his arms crossed and knees bent again before he stands up straight and yells, “Oh! You
volunteered
. A fourteen hour drive. Okay. That’s makes it okay. Got it. Well, wait right here while I go get my shit because I’m coming, too.”

I think, deep down,
deep, deep
down somewhere in my subconscious, I knew this was going to happen. It is why I’m not even the slightest bit surprised by the outburst. I’m actually quite amused.

As calmly as I can, I move to the rear of the vehicle and open the back door so I can slide my bag inside. Peeking around the side of the car, I make a “shoo” motion with my hand.

“Hurry up, then. We haven’t got all day. We’re wasting daylight.”

Cline’s anger is apparent in the flare of his nostrils. “I’m seriously coming.”

“I seriously don’t care.”

“I’m coming.”

“You already said that.” I walk around the car and over to where he’s still standing in his pajama pants. “You remember when you were little and your mom wouldn’t let you watch anything except movies from the eighties or before?” His eyes narrow and those nostrils flare again. “You’re like that asshole kid in the backseat of
Adventures in Babysitting
right now.”

“I watch whatever I want to now.” He says it like he’s so proud. It almost makes me laugh.

“Big man.”

“I’m totally coming on this trip.”

I sigh and wave a hand at the car. “That’s fine, because I didn’t have enough room in that bag for my Box Full of Fucks to Give. So would you go get packed so we can leave? You’re starting to annoy me.”

Elliot has been standing silently off to the side for the entire exchange, and finally he steps between us, placing a hand on my shoulder and one on Cline’s chest. “I can’t do this if you’re going to act like a couple of eight year olds. Both of you need to shut up. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.” He looks at me. “Please, get in the car.” He looks at Cline. “You have five minutes to pack or we’re leaving. I told my mom I’d be home for dinner.” He steps away cautiously then pulls the car keys from his pocket. “If the two of you start fighting, I will pull over and leave one of you on the side of the road. Swear to God.”

The car is dead silent for the first hour of the trip. Every time Elliot attempts to turn on any type of music, Cline vetoes it, so eventually he just gives up. The entire thing has started to give me a headache anyway, so I have taken to staring out the window and counting the numbers on license plates.

Everything must add up to seven. Any way that I can force the numbers to sequence themselves, I do.

HBC6033

6 and 3+3 = 6

6x6=36

3x6=18

8-1=7

An old rusted truck pulling a trailer eases alongside us before picking up enough speed where I can see the plate and start all over again. I don’t even know how much time has passed as I continue to do this, but when Elliot reaches over and places his hand on mine, I realize that my fingers have been busy at work on my shorts. I’ve picked away a large chunk of frayed denim that now lies in a clump on his seat.

He pats my hand and keeps his eyes on the road as he hits the right blinker and pulls into a gas station. “I need to fill up.”

As discreetly as possible, I scoop up the remnants of my destruction and palm them so I can throw it away as I walk by the trash can on my way inside the convenience store. Inside the bathroom, under the unflattering fluorescent lighting, and amidst the smell of years of uncleaned piss, I stare at my reflection. There’s a huge possibility that I’m going to find out who I am. That I’ll finally know whose brown eyes these are. Who this round nose came from. Whose lips in some lineage caused a cupid’s bow to be so deep?

There’s a possibility that I’ll find out that the stuff inside my head isn’t just mine alone.

I could find answers, and the thought scares me so much I have to brace myself on the sink for a moment before I remember how gross it is, and then I wash my hands a few times for good measure, just in case.

The cashier eyes me warily as I walk the aisles looking for snacks for the road. I wonder if Cline still eats King Size Snickers and chases it with a Dr. Pepper like he used to back in school. As far as Elliot goes, I realize I don’t know what kind of snacks he likes, but some Reese’s Pieces might make him laugh. So I gather an armful of items and carry them to the register, a small smile on my lips as the cashier takes in all the sugar and beef sticks I’ve accrued.

“Road trip,” I state.

His thick cheeks puff out as he rings up each item one by one. “Good choices.”

Just the one affirmation that perhaps I’ve done something right makes me feel a little lighter as I walk back toward the pump.

“Are you in love with her or something? Because I’ve never seen you act like this before.”

I know Elliot’s trying to be quiet, but I’m close enough to hear him ask the question.

“No.” Cline is adamant, and I go still, standing behind the partition, waiting to hear the rest of the conversation. “I don’t love her. I don’t even
like
her. As a person or as anything. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She will ruin your entire life, dude. One minute we were best friends, and the next minute I could have been a tree in her yard for all she cared. She acted like none of us existed anymore. Her friends. Even her family. She has a track record—that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Elliot puts the gas cap back on and closes the lid. I can see his hands from where I am hiding, and they disappear as he shoves them into his pockets and leans back against the car. I pull my body closer to the partition to listen.

“Let me just remind you that she threw a rock at
your
bedroom window that day, asking for you to come to her party, not me. I just happened to be there. She came looking for
you
. Maybe you’ll get over yourself soon and find out why she was trying to find you instead of being such an asshole all the time.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Dr. Stark is staring at me from her chair, her pencil poised over her notebook as she waits for me to answer. She’s asked what the next step toward forgiveness is.

 
“Asking,” I reply.

Eyes open now, I make a big deal about shaking the bag and causing as much noise as I can, like I’ve just come around the corner. I dip my hand into the bag, and without even looking him in the eye, I press the candy bar and soda into Cline’s chest and continue walking around the car to get back inside.