Under Shifting Stars

by Alexandra Latos

  I stand up to leave. “You were right about what you said, that we only have three more years of high school. Why make things harder? I can get through three years.”

  Taylor looks up at me with wide eyes. “What are you saying, Clare?”

  I shrug as if it’s no big deal, as if I actually believe my own words. “I just have to fit in and survive, right? No one likes high school.”

  “But Clare . . .” Taylor breaks eye contact and looks away. “Never mind.”

  “I’m not ready!” I snap. I’m not mad at Taylor—Taylor is being incredibly supportive—I’m mad at the situation. Mad at the world. Mad at myself.

  There are still ten minutes left in the lunch hour, but I claim I don’t want to be late for class and dart back up the stairwell.

  Audrey

  On Tuesday night, dinner starts at six. Clare is not present. Mom tells Dad Clare is working on a project with Charlotte in the school library. Then Mom tells Dad she doesn’t believe that.

  Why not? Dad asks.

  I don’t think she’s spending time with her friends anymore. I think she’s made some new friends.

  I see. Dad frowns even though it’s good news.

  If Clare and Sharon stop being friends, Clare might be my best friend again. If Clare and Sharon stop being friends, Clare might forgive me for Adam.

  Isn’t making new friends a good thing? I ask.

  You want the right type of friend, Dad tells me.

  Anyone would be better than Sharon, I respond.

  My parents look at each other. Their faces turn redder and redder until they both start laughing.

  What? It’s the truth.

  Mom nods, still chuckling. I’m not saying it isn’t.

  The clock changes to 6:45. I stand up and take my empty plate to the dishwasher.

  Going somewhere in a hurry? Dad asks.

  Yes, I need a ride to the Starbucks in Britannia. I’m meeting Calvin.

  Mom and Dad blink in unison. Tonight?

  Yes, at 7:00. So I need to get ready now. I go upstairs to put my wallet in my purse. Mom appears in the doorway.

  You didn’t tell me you have a date tonight.

  I did just now. We’re going for coffee like you suggested.

  Mom smiles. That will be nice.

  Both Mom and Dad get into the car to drive me. Neither of them speaks the entire drive. When we park outside the Starbucks, Dad turns to face me.

  We’ll be here to pick you up at 7:30.

  Stewart! Mom knocks him on the shoulder and turns back to me. You remembered your phone, right? Call us when you’re ready to be picked up.

  I’m going on my first coffee date. It’s really happening! I get out of the car but they don’t drive away. They sit there and wave at me until I go into the Starbucks.

  Calvin is leaning against a wall reading his phone. He smiles and puts his phone in his pocket.

  Audrey! You came.

  So did you.

  Yes, that’s a very good sign.

  I’ve never been in a Starbucks before. There is a lot of green and cursive writing on the walls. It’s noisy. The tables are really small and only fit two people. Some of them have a checkered pattern on them. I wonder if they can be used to play checkers.

  There is no line at the cash register. What would you like? Calvin asks and pulls out his wallet.

  Tea.

  What kind? The woman behind the register motions to a tower of teas. I point randomly at one.

  Calvin goes for the Frappuccino. When I see it, I wish I did too.

  He asks me where I want to sit. I choose the table in the corner by the window. It’s the farthest away from most people but it’s still noisy. I try not to listen to the people around us. Calvin takes a sip of his drink so I take a sip of my tea. I wish I didn’t because it burns.

  Here, Calvin says. He takes the lid off my cup. Let it cool down for a minute.

  Peppermint steam spirals into the air. I don’t know what to talk about. I wish I’d written a list of conversation points like I did before I called him.

  Calvin looks out the window. He pulls out his phone and looks at the time. We have to have a quick coffee, he says.

  Oh. Okay.

  Not because I’m not having fun. Because I want to take you somewhere at seven thirty.

  Where?

  To the park. To the LARPing event I told you about. He leans forward to whisper across the table. I registered us both as NPCs.

  What are NPCs?

  Non-player characters. Basically scenery or human props. But the nice thing about playing as an NPC the first time is that you don’t have to make a character or bring props or anything. The game masters supply you with everything. It’s a good way to try it out the first time. So do you want to try?

  I do!

  Sweet. That leaves us exactly fifteen minutes to get to know each other better. Let’s start with something easy. I’m an only child. Do you have any siblings?

  I think of Adam in the basement.

  I had an older brother named Adam. But he died.

  Oh, I’m so sorry.

  And I have a twin named Clare.

  Twin! Are you identical?

  No, we’re nothing alike.

  He takes another sip of his Frappuccino. His whole face disappears except for his eyes. How so?

  Every way.

  Calvin blinks and I know I haven’t said enough. You need to tell people about yourself to make friends, Dr. Jackson once told me. If you don’t share anything personal, you can’t bond with someone.

  We weren’t even born on the same day, I tell Calvin. Clare is Taurus and I’m Gemini. On a family vacation my dad found a mug in the airport gift shop that separated astrology signs into three groups: Different, Difficult, and Perfect. Gemini was listed under Different and Taurus was listed under Difficult. After that, Dad called us Different and Difficult.

  Calvin smiles with one side of his mouth. Is that how you see yourself? Different?

  I nod.

  And what about Clare? Is she difficult?

  Lately. Before I always thought she was perfect.

  Calvin leans forward so that his elbows rest on the table. The table is small and he’s the closest he’s ever been to me. His eyes are only a shade lighter than his pupils. That’s why they look so big.

  No one is perfect, he says. Why do I get the feeling you compare yourself to Clare and always come out on the losing end?

  Because people like her better than me.

  Well, just so you know, being different is what I like about you. You know why? Because I’m different too.

  The stupid smile is back. I pick up my tea and can finally take a sip. Calvin smiles and sits back in his chair.

  You are? I say when I can talk again.

  Oh yeah, and proud of it. I know some people would make fun of me for wanting to LARP. Some people think we’re a bunch of weirdos who can’t tell the difference between reality and fantasy, but that’s not true. We’re just having fun.

  The back of my scalp goes tingly and my heart leaps.

  That’s exactly how I feel, I tell him. I do something similar. I act out scenes with figurines.

  That’s very creative of you.

  Calvin is the only person who has ever said that to me. When he smiles at me, my entire belly goes warm. And it has nothing to do with the tea.

  At 7:30 we walk to the park where we first met. I hear the grunts and the clashing of swords before I see the fighters. Everyone is in fantasy attire. There are soldiers, elves, witches, and other characters I don’t recognize. A man who resembles the Mad Hatter. A woman wearing a white tennis band on her head.

  Calvin! A man with a thick dark beard slaps Calvin on the shoulder. Is this your lady?

  This is Audrey. Audrey, this is Frank. He’s the one who told me about this event.

  Frank holds out his hand. I look at it. His fingernails are very dirty.

  Frank coughs and bends down to pick a sword off the
ground. It looks like a pool noodle with a duct-tape handle. Everyone’s swords are made out of foam. How do they not flop around?

  Did you catch up on the story? Frank asks Calvin.

  I did. I’ll fill Audrey in.

  Good. See that lady over there wearing the tennis band? That’s Jeannie. She’s the game master and will tell you what role you’re playing.

  Calvin turns to me. So they’re only on the second chapter—we haven’t missed much. The heroes have been summoned by the king of Elderbrook because the princess drank a potion that turned her evil. The heroes have to find the reversal potion and have her drink it before the full moon, or else she will remain evil for good. Rumor has it she is currently working with the neighboring realm to usurp her father’s throne.

  I wear purple and fight for the king of Elderbrook, says Frank. But those soldiers over there wearing red, they fight for the blood king.

  We meet Jeannie and she takes us into a tent to tell us our roles and show us our costumes.

  As NPCs, you’ll be playing villains, she tells us. Today the heroes must travel through the dark forest and find the hidden scroll amongst the branches. The scroll will provide them with further direction on their quest. But before they find it, the goblins will attack. You’ll play a few different roles today, starting with the goblins. Then, after the heroes find the scroll and the first battle between Elderbrook and Ollendale begins, you’ll play tree fairies who are angry their home is being invaded and attack all players besides other fairies. As goblins, you’ll attack with clubs. Do you two know the combat rules?

  Calvin looks at me and grins. I’ll teach her.

  Like karate, LARPing is different than I expected. But in a good way.

  It’s not actually about hitting, Calvin says. It’s about touching. Like this. He gently taps my arm.

  I give him a look: This means war.

  He grins. You’ve lost your arm. You have to put it behind your back.

  I stick my tongue out at him but do what he said.

  If you take a leg hit, you lose the leg and must lift it up. But even with no legs you can still walk on your knees.

  Calvin falls to his knees and walks around in a circle to demonstrate. I laugh.

  If you take a body hit, you’re dead. Assume the death position. Calvin squats on the ground with his weapon held horizontally across his shoulders and behind his head.

  There are a lot of rules. But I like rules, so they’re easy to remember. Calvin explains them all and I commit them to memory.

  Then the game begins. The heroes enter the forest in search of the scroll, and Calvin slips a goblin mask over his head. I do the same. There are five of us goblins waiting for the game master’s signal. When it comes, Calvin holds out a fist for a bump.

  And then we attack.

  With a terrible roar, we leap out from behind the trees. An elf is so surprised, she backs up and trips over a rock. A soldier brandishes his sword and shield. The five goblins circle with our clubs raised and ready for battle.

  A witch appears in front of me. She has hair whiter than snow and eyes like a snake. When our swords clash, I think of Adam.

  Sword fights with brooms in the basement.

  Mom calling down to say someone was going to lose an eye.

  I blink and the witch cuts off my leg. I raise it to show I’ve taken the hit. I’m wobbly, close to death.

  Are you afraid, little goblin? the witch asks. Then she whispers so no one else can hear her. I’m only pretending to be a hero. I’m going to betray the king of Elderbrook in the end.

  I slice off her arm and she laughs.

  Good one, little goblin.

  Then she chops off my other leg. I’m on my knees. The witch is looming above me. She grins with bloodred lips.

  Her sword comes down to stab my torso and complete the kill. Only I somersault away. Reach up and tap her lightly on the back. Body hit.

  Adam would have loved this.

  I’ve finally found my extracurricular activity.

  * * *

  At 8:30, I apologize to Calvin.

  I can’t stay to be a forest fairy. My parents will wonder where I am.

  That’s okay, Calvin says. He watches me call them. I tell them I’ll be waiting outside Starbucks. It’s not a lie.

  I’m going to Toronto to visit my dad for a few weeks, Calvin tells me. But I’ll call you when I’m back.

  Okay.

  I had fun tonight, Audrey.

  I did too, Calvin.

  I can’t believe you killed a witch.

  Until her friend resurrected her with that spell.

  Calvin laughs. Those pesky resurrection spells.

  Yeah, I say. If only they existed in real life.

  Then I turn and run back to Starbucks.

  Clare

  When I get home from working on a school project, aka lurking on Internet forums and avoiding going home for dinner, I find a note on the counter: Driving Audrey to Starbucks and running errands. Saved you some chicken in the fridge. Mom even signed it, as if anyone else could have left it for me.

  As I pull the Tupperware out of the fridge, I realize what the note means. Audrey must be on a date! Why else would she be at Starbucks, unless she made a new friend at Peak? I guess that’s also a possibility. It’s not like either of us knows what’s going on in the other’s life anymore.

  I zap my dinner in the microwave and then head to the basement to eat while watching Netflix. The new season of Stranger Things is out, apparently. That’s something Adam would have known.

  I swallow hard and press play.

  It feels wrong watching without him. Whenever something scary happens or I want to comment on something, like Joyce and Hopper’s constant bickering, which is getting annoying, I glance toward Adam’s side of the couch. And each and every time I do, the pain of his absence pierces my chest. That’s the thing about losing someone: there’s one major death followed by a million little deaths.

  I can’t watch this show without Adam, so I stop looking and just talk as if he’s right there beside me, and a kind of peace I haven’t felt in months settles over me. It feels good to talk to him again.

  When the show ends, I turn off the TV, and as the screen turns black, I close my eyes and allow the darkness to surround me too. I stay perfectly still and try to feel for Adam. Could his soul still reside in this basement, like the ghost bride’s soul that’s trapped in the Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel? The folklore goes that as she descended the staircase toward her lover, her wedding gown brushed up against a flickering candle flame and caught fire, and she tumbled down the stairs. Ever since guests and hotel staff of the famous hotel swear they’ve seen her floating up and down the staircase or dancing alone in the ballroom, pining for the first dance denied her by her death. The one and only time we stayed there, Adam dared us to sneak out of our room in the middle of the night to see if we could catch a glimpse of her. We didn’t, but I’ll never forget sneaking through eerie hotel hallways behind my big brother, my entire body buzzing with expectation and fear.

  “Hi, Adam,” I say now with my eyes still closed. Addressing him directly is harder than making comments about a show. I have so much I want to say to him, so much I want to tell him about my life. “I made a new friend. Taylor. I think you’d really like them. They’re like you, Adam: independent and kind.” My voice quivers on the last word, and I have to take a deep breath before continuing. “I miss you. I just want you to know that. I wish I could talk to you about everything that’s going on right now.”

  The only response is the air spilling from the vent and the fluttering of the curtain, but I keep talking.

  “I think I might have messed it up with Taylor today. I hope I didn’t. I really hope I didn’t.”

  I open my eyes and my gaze lands on the cabinet against the wall, the one that used to hold all our toys when we were little, before it got populated with video games, craft supplies, and board games. I look inside and feel a jolt o
f excitement. It’s still there! The lid of the box is faded, the bottom of the box broken at the corners because Audrey sat on it one Halloween—she didn’t notice it under all the candy wrappers littering my bed. We’d snuck treats into our room and stayed up way too late, riding a sugar high and hoping to conjure some spirits.

  I rest my fingers lightly on the planchette and close my eyes again. I’m not playing anymore.

  “Adam, are you here?” I hold my breath and wait, praying that the planchette will inch toward the top left corner of the board, the yes. But it stays frozen in place, lifeless. Maybe it needs more energy. Maybe it doesn’t work without our twin connection. That Halloween night, I was certain Audrey was nudging the planchette along, but now I want to believe.

  I try again. “Adam, if you’re here, please give me a sign.”

  A door slams upstairs and my eyes pop open. Was that someone coming home, or was someone already in the house? Directly above me, the ceiling creaks as they move down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Audrey’s voice. Not her regular voice, though, her old voice, the one I haven’t heard in years. She’s talking excitedly, the way she used to when we were kids and she could tell the ’rents full stories of our adventures without even taking a breath.

  I move to the bottom of the stairs, but it’s not good enough. Audrey is walking around above me, her words bouncing off walls and disappearing around corners. I still can’t hear anything, so I ascend higher, step by quiet step, straining to hear . . .

  Suddenly Mom yanks open the basement door, and I cry out in surprise. I also grab on to the bannister, which is briefly strong enough to prevent me from tumbling backwards, but not strong enough to save itself—it falls right off the wall.

  “Clare! Oh my gosh, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “That bannister is a death trap!” She bends down to inspect it. “Was it even screwed into the wall?”

  Good question. My breathing is ragged, my body still vibrating from the shock.

  Moms straightens. “Are you sure you’re okay? I was just checking if you were home. Did you eat your chicken? How’s your project coming along?”