Steering the Stars (30 page)

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Authors: Autumn Doughton,Erica Cope

BOOK: Steering the Stars
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       When I didn’t answer, he leaned across the center console. “I’m serious.”

       I could tell that he was.

       “Fine,” I said, reluctantly unbuckling my seatbelt and getting out of the car.

       Henry chuckled as he punched the security code into the pad by the door. He walked into the house and tossed his keys on the dark grey granite counter tops.

       “Want anything?” he asked as he headed for the stainless steel refrigerator.

       I shook my head. “I’m okay.”

       He opened the door and reached inside. He pulled back with a soda in his hand. “You sure?”

       I crossed my arms. “I’m sure.”

       “Suit yourself.” He walked into the high-ceilinged living room and found the little black remote that controlled the gas fireplace. With one press of a button, the fake logs burst into flames.

       “Where are your parents?” I asked.

       Henry set the remote down. “My dad had some work thing so they’ll be late.”

       “Oh.”

       Despite my commitment to not getting comfortable, I found myself drawn to the warmth.

       I held my hands out in front of the metal fireplace grate and mumbled, “I guess I wasn’t completely thawed out.”

       I expected Henry to say something snarky, but he’d disappeared. After a couple of minutes, my hands and face were bordering on too hot. I stepped away from the fireplace and walked over to where Mr. Vaughn’s telescope was pointed out a large bay window next to the breakfast nook.

       I carefully ran my hands over the smooth metal and wondered why it was set up here. I knew Mr. Vaughn liked to take the telescope out to Copper Field on clear nights. But when he wasn’t using it, it was usually up in his study.

       “Dad says Venus and Jupiter are converging.”

       I looked over my shoulder. Henry had returned and he was carrying a small pile of folded clothes. I recognized a pair of Hannah’s fuzzy socks on top.

       Without saying anything, I leaned into the telescope and looked through the viewfinder. Mr. Vaughn had been trying to teach me the constellations since I was little. Hannah could name all the large ones and even the individual stars, but I still couldn’t tell Sirius from Canopus.

       I heard Henry’s footsteps come closer and forced myself not to turn around. The fact that I was so aware of every move Henry made only solidified my embarrassment. How could I have thought he might be interested in me? This was
Henry
.

       “He also said that Cassiopeia is even brighter than usual right now. If you look north, you’ll probably find it.”

       I shifted the telescope slightly. I remembered Mr. Vaughn telling us that you could use Cassiopeia to find Polaris and true north, but the stars looked mostly the same to me, just a jumble of sparkly white lights. “I can’t believe people used to be able to get from place to place just by looking up at the stars.”

       Henry said, “They didn’t have iPads or TV so they spent their time studying the patterns they made out in the sky.”

       I grunted.

       “Caroline?”

       Warily, I stood up and looked at him.

       “Will you at least take the clothes?”

       I glanced down at Hannah’s clothes. “I don’t want them. I’m fine.”

       “No you’re not.”

       “You’re right. I’m anything but fine,” I said, and walked back toward the fireplace. “I hate this. I hate that I’m fighting with my dad and with your sister. I hate that Owen and Hannah broke up. I hate that she’s in London in the first place and this whole year has been one disaster after another. Like, for instance, the stupid play!”

       “I thought you were starting to enjoy yourself.”

       “That’s not the point!” I yelled in frustration. Henry’s eyes widened and I went on, “Nothing is happening like it’s supposed to. And just when it seemed like everything was turning around, I find out it was all a lie.”

       He set the clothes on the back of the couch and came closer. “What was a lie?”

       “I thought…” I swallowed. “I thought you were starting to become my friend.”

       “I
am
your friend.”

       “No, you’re not.”

       Henry touched the side of my face. My lungs seized up and I trembled involuntarily. “Care, I am your friend,” he repeated softly.

       I shook my head and pulled away to break his hold over me. Fresh tears spilled from the corners of my eyes and dripped down my cheeks. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

       I watched his hand drop and clench into a fist. “Because I lied to you? Because the only reason I drive you to school and eat lunch with you and have your back is because I’m doing my sister a favor?” he snapped. “And I asked you to homecoming because I was trying to help you out with some complete douchebag out of the goodness of my heart? Do I have all that right?”

       “Well, yeah. I mean, Miles isn’t really a douchebag, but—”

       “Forget Miles,” he said angrily. “Is this what you
really
think?”

       I wrapped my hands around my middle and shrugged. “I don’t know what to think.”

       “So… homecoming?”

       “You don’t have to take me,” I answered quickly.

       “And what about me?”

       “What do you mean?” I sputtered.

       Henry looked away. He was quiet for a long time. “Maybe the reason you have such a hard time figuring out the constellations is that you’re not looking the right way.”

       I didn’t know what to say to that. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, he muttered something I didn’t quite catch and walked away, leaving me alone in his family’s living room.

       As I stared after him, I shook my head in confusion. Some of the steam that had flooded my system an hour ago was fading and I was left with a rancid feeling rotting in the bottom of my stomach.

       I was right to be mad… wasn’t I? Henry and Hannah had both betrayed me.

       So, how did I wind up feeling like the bad guy?
 

 

 

 

 

 

The last time Caroline and I had a big blowout like this, we were eleven. Then, the fight had been over a sweater. A purple sweater.

       Looking back, I knew it was ridiculous. It had been purple day at school and in the spirit of generosity, I’d lent Caroline my absolute favorite sweater—the one with an embroidered cat on the front—and opted to wear a purple corduroy skirt myself. It was a Thursday and the plan was that her mom would wash it and she would bring it back to me the very next day. But on Friday, she wasn’t in school.

       I called her house and I stopped by but no one was home. On Monday morning, I waited in front of the main entrance of school and watched her stumble through the front gate and walk slowly up the steps. I could tell by her downturned head and the flat look on her face that something terrible had happened.

       “The sweater?” I asked anxiously.

       Caroline’s cheeks flamed Pepto-Bismol pink as she dug a plastic bag out of her backpack. My sweater was folded inside.

       “I’m sorry,” she said in a shaky voice. “It was an accident.”

       I tore the bag from her hands and ripped it open to inspect the damage. Just below the cat design there was a huge discoloration. The sweater was beyond repair. It was ruined.

       “What happened?”

       “It was bleach. I tried to wash it and I got mixed up—”

       I didn’t let her finish. “I thought your mom was going to help!”

       Caroline’s eyes welled. “She couldn’t, b-but I’ll buy you a new one. I promise.”

       I knew the McKains struggled to make ends meet and snottily asked, “How are you going to do that?”

       She didn’t have an answer so I pushed onward. “Forget it! I don’t want to talk to you anymore. You’re a dummy.”

       I threw the school door open and stomped down the hall, resolving not to speak to Caroline ever again.

       I lasted until the after-lunch recess.

       She looked so sad sitting on the swings all by herself. I watched her for a while and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I sat down in the swing beside her.

       “I was really mean,” I said regretfully. “I shouldn’t have said all that stuff. I know it’s just a sweater.”

       She looked up at me and I saw tear tracks shining on her cheeks. “It was your favorite.”

       I smiled. “It’s kind of babyish anyway. And Owen says the cat on it looks kind of evil.”

       Caroline sniffed. We sat on the swings in quiet for a few minutes, our sneakers dangling in the dirt.

       Then I asked, “So, why’d you try to wash it anyway?”

       Something about the expression on her face made everything working inside of me come to a screeching halt. My smile died. “Caroline, what’s wrong?”

       And that’s when she told me her mom was sick.

 

****

 

To: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

From: Hannah<
[email protected]
>

Date: October 19

Subject: I’m trying here

 

I've lost track of the number of times I've tried to call you. I just want to talk.

 

Please?

____________

 

 

To: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

From: Hannah<
[email protected]

Date: October 20

Subject: CALL ME

 

Care, this is crazypants. It’s been over a day. Call me, okay?

____________

 

 

 

To: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

From: Hannah<
[email protected]
>

Date: October 21

Subject: WTF?

 

You know what? The more I think about it, the more I think WTF? You can’t do this. You can’t just freeze me out with no explanation. It’s a total bitch move and I’m done trying. This is on YOU now.

____________

 

 

 

To: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

From: Hannah<
[email protected]
>

Date: October 22

Subject: I’m sorry!

 

I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. I’m just confused by all this and I was freaking out. This isn’t on you. I didn’t mean that. Care, PLEASE talk to me.

 

I miss you.

____________
 

 

 

To: Owen<
[email protected]
>

From: Hannah<
[email protected]
>

Date: October 22

Subject: I need your help

 

I know things are weird with us but I don’t know who else to talk to. Caroline and I had a fight and she won't answer my calls or emails. Have you talked to her? I guess I just want to know that she’s okay.

 

Help me?

 

Hannah

____________
 

 

 

       I checked my phone again, but there was nothing new. Not from Caroline or Owen or Henry.

       Oh, why hast thou forsaken me?

      
It had been almost a week since our fight and in that time I’d run through the gamut of emotions. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. I still didn’t know for sure what had happened between us, so now the emotion I was stuck on was frustration.

       I kept thinking back to the conversation we’d had, trying to determine where it had all gone wrong. One minute we were talking about dresses and boys and the next, we were shouting and crying at each other. None of it made sense to me. What did she have to get so mad about? Was this really and truly about Owen? She had told me that he was devastated. But, really,
he
broke up with
me.

      
As for everything else… I’d told Henry about her crush on Miles and that’s all. WTF was the big deal? So what if he tried to step in and help? Shouldn’t she be happy about that? Shouldn’t she be thanking me instead of yelling at me and then acting like I didn’t even exist? None of it made sense to me. If I could only talk to her and try to sort this out then maybe we could—

       “Hannah!” Joel’s harsh whisper found my ears then his foot bumped into the back of my chair, jostling me back to reality.

       “What?” I asked, dazedly blinking over my shoulder at him. He waved his fingers and tipped his chin, trying to get me to look up.

       “Miss Vaughn?”

       The classroom swirled around me as I brought my head back around. “Huh?”

       Mr. Hammond was standing over my desk. “Your exam?”

       “Oh.” My heart stuttered. With a sick feeling I glanced down at the stapled papers in front of me. It was a test with twenty multiple choice questions about writing terminology and then a simple writing prompt. I’d answered two of the multiple choice questions at the top of the test and then I’d zoned out completely.

       And this wasn’t even the first time this week that I’d bailed on something in Mr. Hammond’s class. On Wednesday, I didn’t turn in the journal entries we were supposed to do.

       “Hannah?” he pushed.

       In a scratchy voice I said, “I guess I forgot?”

       “You forgot?”

       My face went hot. Everyone in the class was watching. I could feel Tillie and Ruben’s and Joel’s curiosity and concern and, of course, Ava’s glee. It all settled inside of me like a slab of hardening concrete. I didn’t want their stares. I didn’t want their concern or the glee or their criticism or their endless questions.

       “I’m sorry,” I muttered through my shame.

       Mr. Hammond was still looking down at me and there was no denying the disappointment that creased his forehead and the sides of his mouth. He tapped his finger against my desk and quietly instructed, “I’d like you to stay after class today. I think there are some things we should discuss.”

        I swallowed and dropped my head so that my hair fell in front of my face, hiding my pink cheeks. Just loud enough for him to hear, I said, “Okay.”

        Mr. Hammond nodded once to let me know he’d heard me, then he turned away and went on collecting the tests from other student. When he was back at the front of the classroom, Tillie leaned over from her seat one aisle over. She got close enough that her blond hair brushed my shoulders and I could smell her strawberry lotion.

       
“You forgot to take a test?” she whispered.

       I kept my eyes averted as I covered my mouth and coughed into my hand. “Yeah, I just got distracted.”

       “Distracted?” her tone was disbelieving. “By
what
? The back of Ruben’s head?”

       Ruben turned around and smiled a goofy grin at me. He pushed one hand through the length of his brown waves. “Mum does say I have nice hair.”

       “All mums say stuff like that,” Tillie said.

       “You don’t agree?” he asked and his grin wavered.

       “You could use a cut actually,” Tillie observed dryly before turning back to me. “What’s going on with you, Hannah?”

       All week, she and Joel and Ruben and my teachers and even my sister had been asking me questions. I just wanted them to stop. Their jokes and their cheer and their constant intrusions only made me feel worse. Just trying to explain how I was feeling seemed like an impossible task. Like expecting my voice to carry across an entire galaxy. These people didn’t understand what I was feeling. They couldn’t. They were all still living on earth whereas I had been marooned on planet My Best Friend Hates Me.

       “Don’t worry,” I told her, hoping she’d drop it. Beads of sweat were starting to form all over my skin and my throat was so tight it hurt. “It’s nothing.”

       She narrowed her eyes at me and squared her chin.“Bollocks. You missed squash on Tuesday and you didn’t turn in that assignment on Monday and now this? Forgetting to finish a test doesn't sound like the Hannah Vaughn I know.”

       “Well maybe you don't know me at all,” I snapped.

      
Tillie flinched as though she had been physically slapped. I couldn’t blame her. Even I was surprised by the bitchiness of my voice, the force of my irritation.

       We blinked at each other for a moment and then I quietly said, “I’m sorry.”

       What the hell was wrong with me?
Was I
trying
to alienate everyone in my life or was I just naturally good at it? Maybe Tillie was asking questions I didn’t want to answer, but the truth was that she had never been anything but wonderful to me. It certainly wasn’t her fault that Caroline wasn’t speaking to me.

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