Under Shifting Stars

by Alexandra Latos

  Instead she pulls me to my feet and gives me a hug.

  You deserve it, Audrey, she says. I’m glad you’re coming back.

  Clare

  After I hug Audrey, Mom and Dad join in so we’re doing the group-hug thing, all of us laughing and crying at the same time. When the doorbell rings, I tell them I’ll get it and wipe my tears away before I open the front door. Volunteers have been stopping by all day. I’ve seen them walking the streets, knocking on doors and offering to help homeowners carry items out of the basement or shovel the mud. Everyone keeps saying that the one and only good thing about this flood is how our city seems to be coming together.

  I pull open the door, prepared to thank the volunteer but let them know we’re taking a break. It’s Taylor. Standing on my doorstep, holding Safeway bags full of food.

  “Hey,” I say, surprised.

  “Reinforcements.” They grin and hold up the bags. “Sandwiches and snacks.”

  Fresh tears prick my eyes as we embrace. “You’re amazing!”

  “I figured you’d be too preoccupied to think about dinner.” Taylor follows me into kitchen, where we start unpacking the bags. I talk about the flood, about all the things we’ve lost, and they listen. As usually happens around Taylor, I say stuff I didn’t even know I felt. How terrified I was of losing everything until Audrey told me what she did.

  Mom comes into the kitchen when she hears us talking. She looks at Taylor and I can see it on her face—she’s doing what everyone does when they first meet them. My heart rate increases at the knowledge she is probably trying to figure out how Taylor fits into my new world.

  “Mom, this is my friend Taylor.”

  I don’t miss Taylor’s sideways glance at the word friend.

  Mom looks down at the items on the kitchen counter and smiles. “Did you bring all of this, Taylor? How kind!”

  We arrange the food on the kitchen counter and then call Dad and Audrey to dig in. Dad has the same reaction as Mom when he sees Taylor, and I see her elbow him and do the thing she does with her eyebrows when she’s trying to communicate with him telepathically. As we sit down at the table, Taylor says to Audrey, “It’s awesome to finally meet you, Audrey. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “You have?” Audrey sounds worried.

  “Of course,” Taylor says, as if I’ve never uttered a bad word about Audrey in my life. “Clare told me about the things you used to do as kids and I was super jealous. I always wanted a twin and instant best friend.”

  At that Audrey and I make eye contact, and I give her a smile. “Audrey’s coming back to our school in the fall.”

  “That’s great!” Taylor looks genuinely happy. “You can hang with me if you want.”

  “Really?”

  “For sure. I know what it’s like to be the new kid.”

  Audrey’s answering smile is huge and infectious, and in that moment, I realize how happy it makes me when my friends accept Audrey and how long it’s been since that happened. Usually I’m a tense ball of nerves, waiting for someone to call her a nasty name. Apparently the ’rents feel the same way—they grin at Taylor like dopey idiots.

  “So, Taylor, where are you from?” Mom asks, leaning in closer. “I detect a British accent.”

  “You’re not wrong.” Taylor laughs. “I’m from London. We moved here at Christmas.”

  “London! I always wanted to live in London.”

  Dad is equally smitten. He only asks people questions when he actually cares. “We always wanted to travel there with the youth visa, but life got in the way. Worked out, though, because we had incredible kids!” Dad shoots me a killer smile and I return it with a roll of my eyes.

  As I listen to everyone talk, I find myself relaxing and take a few bites of my sandwich. It’s amazing how Taylor just fits into my life. It feels so natural, so easy. Maybe my parents won’t care that I’m gender-fluid. Maybe all they care about is if I’m with someone who is a nice person and that I’m a nice person too.

  Everything is going awesome until Dahlia walks into the kitchen.

  Dahlia, who we haven’t seen since Adam passed away. Dahlia, who used to be over at the house all the time but who disappeared from our lives, leaving only Adam’s videos behind.

  My sandwich slips from my fingers and plops onto my plate. I stop breathing. She stands there smiling shyly and holding a cardboard coffee carrier in one hand and a large Tim Horton’s bag in another.

  “Hi,” she says, a flush creeping up her beautiful neck. “Sorry to interrupt. The front door was open so I just came in. When I heard this area flooded I thought of you, and I meant to come by earlier. I just thought you probably had enough volunteers and didn’t know if you’d want to . . . see me.” She glances away briefly as tears fill her eyes. “Anyway, I wanted to bring some food. I’ve got coffee, chili, doughnuts, and . . . sandwiches.” She frowns with what I assume is disappointment at the sandwiches already sitting on the plate.

  Mom is the first to acknowledge her. She stands up and pulls Dahlia in for a hug. “Dahlia! It’s so good to see you. We’ve missed you around here.” When she says the words, I know they’re true. She didn’t particularly care for Dahlia before—not because she didn’t like her, but because she was worried about the usual things moms worry about when teenagers disappear into the basement together. But I guess none of that matters anymore.

  “Let me take that for you,” Dad says, and slips in to relieve Dahlia of the bags. Now her arms are free and she hugs Mom back and they both start crying. An uncomfortable emotion rises in me, like I’m an imposter but worse. More like I’m a total creep.

  My own neck flushes with the thought and my palms turn sweaty as the flush rises into my face. Taylor elbows me and raises a questioning eyebrow. All I can do is smile back weakly. I wish there were some way I could get off this stool and slip out of the kitchen without anyone noticing me or calling me out for being rude. I want to lift the bread off my sandwich and crawl inside.

  “Sit down,” Mom says and offers Dahlia her seat. Dahlia slips into it and clasps her hands in her lap. She’s right beside me, so close that when I falter in my seat, our arms brush.

  “Hey, Audrey and Clare,” she says, as if just noticing us. Her large eyes widen a bit when she sees me. “Clare, you changed your hair! It looks good.”

  For a moment I can’t even speak. Then I garble a thank-you that’s practically incomprehensible.

  Silence follows.

  Dad jumps in and introduces Taylor. Then he starts asking Dahlia questions. What has she been up to lately? How’s her family? The usual chitchat people toss around when they had a single link they shared and now that link is irrevocably severed. It’s impossible not to think of Adam with Dahlia in the room, and I can see and feel the pain emanating behind the wrinkles around Dad’s eyes and Mom’s wavering smile.

  Dahlia is nervous too. She keeps clasping and unclasping her hands and her cheeks are still that shy shade of pink. When she answers the next question she ducks her head a little bit, and I’m thrown back into the video at the moment when she smiled coyly at Adam and began unbuttoning his shirt . . .

  I don’t know how it happens, but I end up on my back on the floor. I’ve tipped my stool over backwards—I must have instinctively shoved away from the counter. There’s a commotion of faces above me, and then Taylor reaches down to help me to my feet.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t feel so well.” That doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m mortified.

  “Are you hurt?” Dahlia puts a hand on my arm and I flinch, pull away.

  Taylor’s eyes widen and then narrow in understanding. No one needs to know about my obsession with Dahlia’s video to know that I have a crush on her. I’m acting like a total basket case.

  What would Dahlia think of me if she knew I’d watched private videos between her and Adam, and liked it? What would Taylor think? What would Adam think? If Audrey was right and his ghost was in the basement, did he s
ee what I did that night? And the days and nights after that? Was he angry that I trespassed on his privacy?

  I wrap my arms around my stomach, afraid I’m going to be sick.

  “Did you bump your head when you fell?” Dahlia asks. She and Taylor crowd closer, and I close my eyes against them.

  “No, I didn’t. I’m fine, I’m fine.” They both keep asking me questions until finally I yell, “I said I’m fine! Just leave me alone!”

  A heavy silence follows.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble as my cheeks burn hotter. I can’t bear to look at anyone. “I just want to be alone.”

  “That’s okay, I should get going anyway.” It’s Taylor, and I can hear the hurt in their voice. They turn to address my parents. “Thank you for having me.”

  “Thank you for bringing the food,” Mom says. “That was very sweet of you.”

  “See you in September, Audrey.” And then Taylor is gone.

  “Everything okay?” Mom asks, looking from me to Dad like she’s clearly missed something.

  Dad shrugs and holds his sandwich up to Dahlia. “I tried one of yours. Delicious.”

  The front door is already closing by the time I run out of the kitchen, and through the glass I can see Taylor walking toward their black hatchback. I stand frozen in place, watching them leave my life with one hand on the door handle, too afraid to go after them because I know I will have to admit what they already know: Dahlia is the person I told them about, the person I shouldn’t have had a crush on.

  “Are you fighting?” The voice comes from behind me. I turn to see that Audrey followed me out of the kitchen. “I hope not. I like Taylor.”

  Tears prick my eyes. “I like them too.”

  “Then why are you just standing here? Whatever is going on, fix it.” She gives me a hug and then practically shoves me out the front door. “Go.”

  The engine roars to life as I sprint down the walk. “Wait!” I yell. Neighbors and flood volunteers pause in their work to watch me running like a lunatic without shoes, but I don’t pay any attention to them—I only care about Taylor. I yank open the door of the car. “Don’t leave.”

  They stare straight forward, both hands on the wheel, and shake their head. “You just told me to leave.”

  “I didn’t mean it.”

  “Then why did you say it?”

  I open my mouth to explain myself, but I don’t know how without revealing my history with Dahlia. It doesn’t matter what I say, though, because Taylor is already forming their own opinion.

  “You fancy her, don’t you?”

  “No! I mean, not anymore.”

  “Is she the one you said you shouldn’t have been attracted to? Because she seemed a lot like your brother’s girlfriend.”

  I look down at the cement between my toes. I don’t want to answer, but I’m on thin ice. I can feel everything that’s important to me slipping through my fingers. Everything I thought I’d gained in the last half hour—Taylor liking Audrey and my parents liking Taylor—will be lost if Taylor walks away.

  “Yeah,” I say and flush with shame. “Dahlia was Adam’s girlfriend, but I didn’t like her while he was alive; I realized afterward. And I don’t like her anymore—I just acted weird in there because I felt guilty about my old feelings, and then the more awkward I acted, the more worried I became that you would think I liked her.”

  “She’s a pretty important person to you.” There’s more than a trace of insecurity in Taylor’s tone. “I mean, she’s the person who helped you discover who you are.”

  “No, that was you. I know it sounds messed up, but everything that’s happened to me over the past two months ultimately led me to you. It was the reason I was at the club the night we started hanging out. You’re the person I want to be with.”

  “Are you sure?” Taylor finally looks at me, vulnerability reflected in their eyes. “I thought you changed your mind after that whole Facebook thing. You suddenly signed off and stopped talking to me.”

  My mouth falls open. I had no idea they would take it that way. “You told me to stop deleting the post so I logged off, and also because . . .”

  “Because all of that happened after our date so you weren’t sure you still wanted to be with me,” Taylor finishes. “I know.”

  “No! Not at all. Is that what you really thought?” I feel awful for letting them feel like that for the past week while I’ve been busy studying for exams and then dealing with the flood. I run a hand through my hair and then drop it heavily to my side. “I logged off because I didn’t know if I could take it. All the bullying. But do you want to know what I did after that? I wrote myself a letter reminding myself how important it is for me to be myself so that I won’t chicken out ever again. I couldn’t have done that without you, Taylor Matthews. You inspire me.”

  “Please.” They roll their eyes but can’t hide their smile. “That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Hey, I’m being serious right now! I definitely want to be with you. Nobody else. Okay?”

  Another smile tugs at Taylor’s lips, followed by a nod. When they step out of the car, I slip a finger through their belt loop and tug them closer. Then we kiss right there in the middle of the road. Someone whistles and we break the kiss to see Dad, Mom, Audrey, and Dahlia standing on the front step. Mom elbows Dad. They’re all grinning like idiots.

  “Oh my God, Dad.” I laugh and shake my head.

  Taylor laughs and opens the car door. “Wanna get out of here?”

  “Definitely.”

  I feel high, better than I have in years, because this is it: the moment I start living. From now on I’m going to follow my heart. I’m going to be good to the people in my life and show them I love them every single day because who knows how much time any of us have left with the people we love. I’m going to make my time count. I’m going to make my life count.

  Audrey

  When Clare and Taylor drive off, I know what I have to do. I wait until Mom and Dad are busy in the kitchen and then I leave too.

  I’ve never taken a city bus. I have no idea how much it costs but figure bus drivers don’t always watch that closely and drop a handful of coins in.

  I’m right.

  The front half is full and there are stairs up to the back half. The bus starts moving just as I take the first step, and I trip, fall onto my hands.

  Careful, dear, says a lady with frizzy red hair. She bites loudly into an apple.

  There really isn’t enough room back here either, but it’s too late now. I plant myself between the lady and a guy knitting a scarf. One of them smells like broccoli. The scarf is so long it touches the floor. As he knits it grazes a dried piece of gum by his feet.

  The bus sounds like a plane about to take off. The open window beside me howls. We hit a bump and everyone bounces.

  The people on the bus go up and down, up and down . . .

  Where are you going? I ask the lady.

  I’m going across the country! she responds loudly. Tiny apple bits fly from her lips to rain on my face. You can go all the way across the country on one transfer, did you know that?

  I wipe my cheek clean and shake my head.

  Yep. Two-fifty will get you right across the country. Right across. Can you believe it? Well, I’ll tell you how I found out . . .

  It’s about then that I realize I don’t know where I’m going. It feels like I’ve been traveling for hours. How do I know I won’t go across the country?

  I call out to the bus driver, How do you stop this thing?

  The lady has been talking the whole time but she pauses to say, Pull the wire, dear, before launching back into it.

  I pull.

  The bus stops suddenly. I tumble off and it speeds away.

  I have no idea where I am. I’m completely lost. I pick up a rock from the sidewalk and throw it. Cars fly by me but I keep moving. If I walk in the opposite direction the bus took me I will eventually make it home. Up ahead a shopping area co
mes into focus.

  Now I know exactly where I’m going.

  The park is full of kids because there’s no school. I keep walking along the path, disabling gopher traps as I go. Cross the street and climb the steps to the little white house Calvin pointed out to me the day we met. It looks empty but I ring the doorbell.

  Inside the house, I hear his mom call for him to get it. Then Calvin pulls open the door. His eyebrows fly up so high they almost touch his hair. He crosses his arms and leans against the door frame.

  What are you doing here, Audrey?

  I’m here to see you.

  Calvin pushes off the door frame. His hair is messy like I remember. But this time I want to touch it. I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. Is that normal? Do other girls think about things like that?

  I thought you didn’t want to talk to me, he says.

  Why would you think that?

  Um, because you yelled that when I called.

  Oh. Oh no.

  That isn’t why I yelled at her. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to talk to you.

  Well you could have fooled me. First you wanted to go on a date and then you didn’t want anything to do with me. Are you embarrassed of me or something?

  No! I look down. Take a deep breath and let it out like a whale. Like Monsieur Martin.

  I was actually worried you would be embarrassed of me, I tell him.

  Why?

  Because Clare told you I go to Peak.

  Why does that matter?

  You know why.

  He doesn’t say anything. I focus on his socks. They have different colored diamonds on them.

  I don’t care that you go to Peak.

  He’s speaking softer than usual. One of his feet steps closer and I look up. Calvin is very close now. His face takes up my entire view. I hold my breath until after he speaks.

  Why didn’t you tell me?

  I let my breath out in a sigh.

  Because the other kids have always called me weird. Now that I go there they call me Freak. I didn’t want you to think that about me.