Drowning in Stars

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Drowning in Stars Page 2

by Debra Anastasia


  _______________

  I wasn’t exactly sure how to meet up with Pixie Rae. She was gone when I woke up in the morning. Or at least she wasn’t responding to the Nerf bullet I put through her window. After putting on a shirt and shorts, I walked into our new kitchen. The boxes were stacked pretty high. This apartment had two bedrooms, with the shared laundry down the hall. Dad had written me a note on the side of one of the boxes.

  Hey, unpack these kitchen boxes and put the stuff away.

  I had my marching orders and a five dollar bill. Chances were it was for my meals for the day. I wasn’t looking forward to the stifling heat of the apartment, so I stuffed the money into one pocket and my new key into the other. After sliding on my Converse look-alikes, I was out the door.

  We didn’t have a working elevator, which made moving in a giant pain in the ass. I noticed a service elevator, but it needed a key. I trotted down the stairs and out the fire door. The morning air was cool enough to inspire a deep breath. I had a feeling I’d miss the smell of fresh cut grass here. I eyed the bar across the street like it was a villain in a movie. It was closed, but Tapps being so close to our place was a possible problem. Dad being on the wagon was probably temporary, I realized this, but Tapps was going to pull at him when times got rough. I looked up and down the street. The traffic was steady but not crazy. The whole neighborhood seemed to be sleepy this early. I rubbed my elbow while trying to decide where to go first. I figured I’d walk a few blocks and then keep making lefts so I’d wind up back where I started.

  I felt eyes on me on my second left. Even the buildings seemed less inviting. Most had the doors barred off and closed. It wasn’t even a weekend, so I wasn’t sure how they stayed in business.

  Eventually, I came across a building that was open. The library. I stepped into the foyer just as Pixie Rae was coming out, her arms full of two thick books and a boxed cat puzzle.

  “Hey, Gaze!” She loped toward me, her chestnut hair peeking out of her rainbow headband.

  I tipped my chin toward her, not wanting to seem overly excited. The walk to the library had gotten my guard up.

  As I feared, Pixie was taller than me. In my last classroom, I was second to smallest. My dad said I might shoot up someday, but it certainly wasn’t today.

  “You got summer reading?” That made me nervous. I didn’t want to find out that the new school was stupid rigorous about homework. I hated to do any of it, except for math. That was my favorite, besides PE, of course.

  “I mean, I’m reading in the summer. But it’s just because I like to. You’re not missing any assignment or anything.” She tried to flip her hair from her shoulder, but it stubbornly fell back to where it was. “You getting a library card?”

  I shook my head. “Nah. I don’t even know how this place works. We never lived close to one before. I’ve got money for food, so I was looking for some.”

  “You like bagels? We’ve got a good shop for that.” She stepped toward me. “I’ve got to drop this stuff off at home, but I can show you where it is on the way.”

  “I like bagels.” I offered to hold the books for her, and she shuffled her arms and gave me one.

  I peeked over her shoulder, but all I could see of the library was a tall desk and a metal detector. Pixie Rae seemed so worldly to me.

  “Happy birthday again, by the way.” We went down the steps together.

  “Same to you.”

  I went to go back the way I had come.

  Pixie stopped and made a tsking noise. “We don’t go that way without adults.”

  “Is that because it seems so creepy?” I turned on my heel and followed behind her.

  “For sure. From the library on home this way is good. It’s where the better stuff is anyway. Like the bagel store and the magazine store. They have comics, if you like that.”

  She’d guessed right. I was a huge Marvel comic fan. The pictures combined with the text made them way easier for me to follow.

  “That store opens later in the day.” She motioned with a tilt of her head toward the brightly colored glass that held the comic store, Inkies.

  We smelled the bagel store before we got there, and I was pretty sure that I could find it with my eyes closed. When we got to the thick glass door that had a coat of moisture on the inside, I shrugged my shoulders and lifted up her book from the library.

  “No. You keep it for now. I’ll get it later. You might like it to read.” She glanced at the title.

  It was a biography of a famous movie star.

  I wouldn’t read it, but I might glance at the pictures. Impressed that she trusted me with a library book so quickly, I offered, “You want some bagels?”

  It was the least I could do for her birthday.

  She shook her head and her hair brushed the cover of her book. “No, thanks. Get ’em while they’re fresh! I’ll see you later.”

  And with that, she was gone.

  Entering the shop, I noticed the space for the customers was surprisingly small, and the counters were above my head. There was a clear way to get in line and order that I wasn’t grasping. The adults just stepped in front of me. I was about to give up, even though the baked goods smelled incredible, when someone tapped on my shoulder.

  Pixie Rae was right behind me. “I figured this might be a problem. Hang on.” She passed me her load, then she went almost behind the counter and dragged out a step stool. She used it to make eye contact with the man behind the counter.

  “Pixie! Happy Birthday, Sunshine!” The whole place seemed to know her name. People came out from the back with flour on their hands to give her a high-five. After she accepted all the well-wishes, she thumbed at me over her shoulder. “Gaze is new here, so we got to let him get some food.”

  And like a magician she revealed me. I found myself smiling back at all the workers now peeking over the countertop to say hi to me and introduce themselves.

  When all was said and done, Pixie had a cake in a box tied with a red striped ribbon, and I had a bagel with cream cheese that was still warm from the oven and an extra sack of a few must-have treats. My five dollars was still firmly in my pocket and Pixie’s books and puzzle rested on my forearms.

  To say I was dazzled by Pixie Rae’s magic would be an understatement. She was so capable. She seemed like a mini adult.

  Walking back into the neighborhood with her got me introduced to a lot more people. Some our age, most our parents’ age.

  We walked past my building and into hers. She pulled her key out from a ribbon around her neck. She should have had to open the door to the building, but it was propped open, so we walked right through and up her five flights of stairs. I could kind of guess which apartment was hers based on how it faced my building.

  As Pixie opened the door, she warned me, “Just don’t be judgy. My mom works a lot of jobs and I’m in charge of keeping the place up.”

  I shrugged because I really didn’t care. My father and I lived like bachelors, or so he said. Pixie’s place was neat and together, so I wasn’t sure where the judgment was supposed to be coming from. She motioned for me to set her books down onto a scuffed coffee table, and she put her cake in the refrigerator.

  “You can eat your bagel in the kitchen if you want.” She patted the round metal table here.

  I took her up on her offer because I was flat-out starving. Halfway through my third bite, the keys in the door jingled. I could see into the living room from where I was quietly sitting.

  “Hey, munchkin.”

  Even Ms. Stone’s greeting sounded tired before I saw the bags under her eyes. She was a pretty lady. A bigger, older Pixie. I halfway stood, getting ready to pack up myself to leave, but Pixie motioned for me to sit back down with her palm facing the floor. I sank back down and continued eating.

  Ms. Stone barely made it all the way into the living room, staggering like she was walking barefoot on lava until she sat down in the armchair. Pixie asked her mom a few mumbled questions, but as far as I could
tell, she didn’t get an answer.

  Then I felt like I was peeking in her window again as I saw the routine Pixie was clearly used to doing. She loosened her mother’s collar for comfort and slid her shoes off her feet. After grabbing a fuzzy blanket off the couch, she tucked her mother in, raising her feet onto the coffee table.

  Pixie crossed her mom’s hands over her chest with a tender, slightly worried look on her face. When she checked back in my direction, I pointed to my now empty napkin. Pixie gave me the universal sign for quiet and then come on, so I tiptoed out behind her as she left the apartment. She made sure to lock the door behind her.

  After we had descended a flight of stairs, she started talking again. “You full? I can take you to the playground if you’re allowed. In the morning we can go.”

  I tossed my trash into the garbage can near the crosswalk. “I can go wherever I want. I just have to be home this evening.”

  “We can do that.” She waited for the red hand on the signal to turn to a white walking person. “We still have to eat your cake.”

  “So, is your mom okay? She’s not sick or anything, is she?” I felt bad after I asked, thinking of the concern I’d glimpsed on Pixie’s face.

  “No. Not sick. Just tired. Like I said, she works a lot.” Pixie walked up to a gate and swung it open. It snapped shut after we walked through.

  The park.

  It was no wonder I hadn’t noticed it yet. These entrance gates were tall. Beyond it was a dated playground, a run-down basketball court, and some metal picnic tables. I didn’t mention that the park in my old neighborhood had rolling hills, two playgrounds, tennis and basketball courts, and more soccer fields than I could keep track of. The suburbs were like that.

  She yanked on my arm and pulled me toward the swings. Two were functioning, even if the chains were rusted, and the other two were just dangling chains with no seats.

  Her sheer delight in getting the two swings next to each other was addicting, and I found myself running next to her easily.

  We hopped into the swings and started pumping our legs at once, a natural movement that felt like we had never had to learn it in our past. The morning that was already heating up was cooled just for us as we whizzed by each other with self-made breezes. Sometimes we would smile at each other in the hang time before backward switched to forward. Then we would be off beat, her chestnut hair flying out behind her like a soul trying to catch up with her happiness.

  I wished we’d been able to swing longer, but as I hopped off mid-swing like a daredevil, another kid snatched my swing before it could make it back to me. The trouble with two swings was there were only two swings. There were a lot more kids in the park.

  Pixie hopped off soon after and her swing suffered the same fate. I learned that morning that being on the swings with Pixie was one of the best feelings of my life so far, even though the playground was just a step up from a junkyard.

  We strolled through the small space together. The basketball court was crowded with kids about our age.

  “Soon the big guys will wake up and kick them off, so they get here early.”

  Pixie’s observation explained the almost manic way the kids were playing the game. And I was pretty sure the faded ball they were using was really a soccer ball.

  The trees in the park were barely close to the ground, as if picking the leaves off of them was a group game. Soon after I thought it, Pixie proved me right by trying to reach a leaf that was way higher than she could reach.

  She was a head taller than me, but I knew I could jump. I pushed her gently out of the way, backed up, and got a running start. I was able to snatch it off the tree with the tips of the fingers on my right hand.

  I handed the leaf to her, with a huge grin I didn’t realize was on my face until a nearby kid started to tease, “Look, Pixie’s got a baby boyfriend.”

  The song about K-I-S-S-I-N-G in a tree started up. I wanted to defend her, but I felt my cheeks flush and my tongue get heavy.

  “Alfie, shut up. No one asked you.” Pixie shot him her very mature middle finger and stuck out her tongue.

  Alfie screwed his face up and stuck his tongue out at her in return.

  Pixie stomped her foot and he backed up immediately.

  “Don’t make me come over there.” She turned to me. “He’s a jerk. Don’t let him get to you.” Then louder, so Alfie could hear, she said, “He talks tough for a guy who peed his pants at the school play last year.”

  Alfie seemed like he regretted even opening his mouth and turned his back to us.

  “That’s what I thought.” Pixie pushed her lips to the side. I watched the whole scene, amused. I’d happened to have a window neighbor that was pretty kickass. And I wasn’t sorry about it.

  As we walked out side by side, the gate had a set of guards now. Five huge teenage boys were joking with each other. The tallest was spinning a basketball on his finger. My gut instinct was to run, to avoid them at all costs. Pixie walked right up to them. She nodded at the basketball spinner, and he tossed the ball in her direction. I noticed he tossed it lighter than he was probably capable of.

  Pixie caught it and started dribbling the ball with both hands. She was not a basketball superstar.

  “Those guys giving you trouble?” the one with the long black hair closest to Pixie asked her while she focused on the ball.

  “Nah. Gaze is new here, so they want him to think they’re tough. They’re not.” She passed the ball back to the tallest one.

  “They don’t even know the difference between their ass and their nuts.” The middle height one had enough red in his hair that he might have been related to Pixie.

  Pixie stepped back and put her hand on my shoulder. “These guys run the basketball court in the mornings. Tim, Tocks, and Drizzle.” She gestured so quickly I didn’t know which one was which. “Gaze is cool. And he’s with me.”

  The guys looked me up and down and then lifted their brows at each other. I was pretty sure one of them snickered. The tallest held out a loose hand to me. I had no idea what to do with it. I mean, I’d watched in the past as Dad shook hands with customers, but a formal, old guy shake wasn’t going to help them believe Pixie’s declaration that I was cool.

  “I’m Tocks.” The tallest basketball player passed the ball to the redheaded guy and gave me a very quick tutorial about what was expected. We were supposed to drag our fingers down to the tips and then slap hands twice in a row quickly. Then we clutched fingertips and pulled away like they had almost been stuck together.

  Each of the guys did the same with me, and by the time I was done, I knew the redhead was Tim and Drizzle hit my hand pretty freaking hard.

  This was great. Really great. I’d ask Pixie how she managed to get on their good sides later, but she was already on to the next setup. “You guys waiting for Dreck? He was in the alley last night, late.”

  The guys all made grumbling noises, calling Dreck a pussy and other slurs.

  “Take Gaze. I bet he can play.” She pointed at me and I wanted to disappear.

  I was good at sports. Like stupid good. Picked first and all that. But I was twelve. These guys had to be pushing eighteen.

  Tocks tilted his head toward the court, which was already full with two groups of younger kids. As Tocks and his buddies walked toward it, the younger ones scattered as if a fire alarm was pulled. Pixie smiled at me. “Is this okay?”

  I said yes because I didn’t want to look like a wuss, but I was pretty sure I was about to be as useful as a sweat towel. I just hope they didn’t treat me like one.

  “I’m going to head home and check on Mom, but I’ll be back with a book. Stay with Tocks.”

  And with that, she walked away as I faced three huge guys, ready to play two-on-two.

  Chapter 3

  Pixie Rae

  GAZE SEEMED SKITTISH, but I knew Tocks would watch out for him. I was concerned that Mom would be so asleep she would hurt her neck while lying in the sitting position. It had ha
ppened before.

  I walked home while watching my surroundings. It was a natural thing I did. Any kid born in the city grew up scanning the area. The front door of our building was propped open, even though it was always supposed to be closed. I was betting the back door was open, too. Always aware. I had to know where people could come from, though during the day it was a lot easier to get from place to place. A few weeks ago there was a shoot-out two blocks down before lunch, so nothing was written in stone.

  I wrapped my hands around the dangling keys around my neck so I could enter my place the quietest way possible. Mom wasn’t in the chair anymore, and after following the trail of her discarded uniform, I found her in her bed. She hadn’t had the energy to cover herself with her threadbare blanket, so I did it.

  Dinner would be on my shoulders tonight. Again. I missed the cooking Mom would do when I was younger. Even if it had only been hot dogs, she did it all—cooked the meal, cleaned the dishes, and tucked me in at night. That was before Dad left. Now it was all up to her to make money to pay the bills. I understood, but I missed her a lot.

  I went to the fridge and frowned. I could make mac and cheese, but I needed cheese. I only had butter, milk, and noodles. I went to my special envelope and took out five dollars. The corner CVS had cheese in the refrigerated section, but it was more pricey than the grocery a few blocks away.

  But I wanted to get back to Gaze. I grabbed my paperback, water bottles for him and me, and locked the door behind me. At least Mom was home.

  When I got back to the playground, the heat was really picking up. Soon the basketball court would be in full sun, and Tocks, Tim, and Drizzle would be done and headed home.

  I sat under the one tree that had enough leaves to cast a shadow and put my back against the scarred bark. It was a tough tree, because it was littered with initials and words, but it still gave us green leaves in the summer.

  I opened my Tijan book, thrilled that the library had her new release, but before I could dip into the pretend world I was looking forward to, I watched Gaze. Tocks was on his team. Tallest and shortest versus the other two. I couldn’t tell if the guys were going as hard as they usually went, but it was a quick-moving game. Gaze wasn’t a basketball wonder, but he was holding his own and feeding the ball to Tocks regularly.

 

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