Heavenly Bodies

by Rochelle Allison

  “Want to come for dinner? I can ask my mama.”

  “What time?”

  “Probably 6:30-ish, but I’ll text you.”

  He nods, searching my eyes. “Everything’s fine, okay? I don’t want you worrying about my shit.”

  The sun goes behind a cloud, making it easier to see his face. “Maybe I want to worry about your shit.”

  “I know.” He pulls me into a hug, resting his chin atop my head. “I kinda love that about you.”

  His words send a flush of pleasure through me. Disentangling myself from his embrace, I clear my throat. “Well, good. Because I love stuff about you, too.” My face warms, but the look on his makes it worth it.

  The assistant coach appears. “You have about ten seconds before Coach Archer makes you ride the bench at the next meet, Ri.”

  The mosquitos chase Rigel and me from the porch, driving us into the bright, warm, chaos of pre-dinner. Alex tends to grow increasingly hyper as bedtime approaches, so he’s all over us, talking preschool, favorite songs, and the latest game on his tablet.

  “Ok, Al,” Mama says, smiling apologetically as she scoops him into her arms. “Come help mama in the kitchen.”

  “So what couldn’t you tell me at school?” I ask, turning to Rigel.

  “Can we…” He looks around, hands on his knees. “Go to your room?”

  Mama’s never explicitly told me not to have boys in my room, but that’s only because she’s never had to. Still, this is one of those times I’d rather ask forgiveness than permission. I make sure to leave the door open a crack, knowing she’ll eventually show up.

  I sit on my bed, Rigel settles into a chair in the corner. “So I used to be really close to Orion. I told you that. Everything he did, I did, and when he started doing things with Daniel, I did them too. Until we got in trouble that night, I was right at his side.”

  “Inseparable.”

  “Right.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. For someone who’s typically cool, he’s pretty antsy right now. “Orion and Daniel went pretty deep, selling, but you should know I did it for awhile too. I wasn’t just watching from the sidelines.”

  And there it is. I’m not as shocked as I should be. Logically, I get why he’s kept this to himself, but I can’t help but feel disappointed—not that he used to sell, but that I’m the last to know. Bits and pieces of conversations I’ve heard over the past months come back to me, and it all makes sense now. Rigel’s not an angel. He never was.

  I never wanted him to be. But I thought we were closer than that, especially after what we’ve shared. We talk every day. He taught me swim. We’ve had sex.

  Our eyes lock, and I nod slowly. “Okay.”

  He sits back, chewing his bottom lip. “That’s it?”

  “I mean, Rigel, what do you want me to say?” I ask. Really, I’ve got a hundred things to say, but I don’t know that he wants to hear any of them. “You don’t do it anymore.”

  “No. But…” He stands, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “There’s nothing you want to know? You’d just accept it like that?”

  “Do I like that you did it? No. But we’ve all done stupid stuff.” I stare at my hands. “I guess the only thing I want to know is why you didn’t tell me before.”

  “I didn’t want to scare you off.”

  My breath catches. “Oh.”

  “St. Croix’s a small place. People know my family.” He paces back and forth in front of me, his voice even. “But they know my brothers, too, on a different level. Remember what I told you, that one time, about our actions reflecting on each other?”

  I nod.

  “A lot of Orion and Daniel’s enemies are also mine,” he says. “Sometimes it’s direct, like we had problems before. But sometimes it’s just because of who my brothers are.”

  “Oh.” Sighing, I scratch my leg. “So you weren’t an innocent who got caught in the crossfire. You were on the same path at one point.”

  “Yeah. But the night they hauled us in was a serious wake-up call for me. I realized it wasn’t a game, that it could really frig up my life.” He stops in front of me. “And it could’ve been worse, you know? It could’ve taken someone dying. That’s happened. We know people who’ve died living this life. That’s why I didn’t call Orion. He finally got off St. Croix; I didn’t want him getting sucked back in.”

  “I get it.” I hold out my hand, and he takes it, sitting beside me. “But why did you miss school today? You were with your dad?”

  “He and my Uncle Jimmy...know people. They’re not into anything, but they know people who are.” Rigel pauses, glancing at me. “They’re afraid of retaliation. So besides family, and maybe Drew, no one knows where Orion is. No one even knows he’s gone yet.”

  “But what exactly did Orion do?” I ask, horrified. “Why are people after him?”

  “It’s been escalating for a while. Someone from Orion’s crew robs someone from William’s Delight...they fight over girls, or turf...whenever they see each other in public, there’s a fight. Last time they threw down, Orion really messed one dude up and I think it brought things to a head.” He scrubs his hands over his face. “But now I’m having run-ins with these punks and I just...I thought I was past this. I’m so close to graduating, to getting out of here.”

  “You did move past it. It’s just Orion didn’t, and now it’s affecting you.”

  “Or maybe my past is catching up to me.”

  Mama knocks on the door before pushing it open. “Dinner’s ready.”

  “Okay, we’re coming,” I say, getting up.

  “Keep this open next time, please,” she says, disappearing back down the hall. “Wide open.”

  Well, that’s that. Rigel and I look at each other. “Thanks for telling me,” I say. “For trusting me.”

  We walk to the door. “It’s not just about trust. It’s about keeping you away from certain things.”

  “You don’t have to protect me.”

  “Ah, Isla. Yes I do.”

  “Who protects you?” I poke his chest. I guess that’s how it is sometimes. Old choices come back to haunt us, their consequences far reaching, and we have to ride them out.

  “I’ll be alright.” Rigel follows me to the kitchen, petting Larry as Alex buzzes around our legs with his latest Lego creation. “I have family, remember? And unlike some people, I know how to stay out of trouble.”

  Feedback squeals across the crowded pavilion, triggering a wave of laughter. Mr. Randolph, Headmaster of the Palms, is at the podium, red-faced and harried as a gangly junior from the production team fiddles with his mic. Two weeks until graduation, and we’re at another after-school dress rehearsal.

  Thanks to alphabetized seating, no one’s sitting with their friends. Our senior class is small enough that everyone knows each other, though, so it’s no big deal. I’m signing Jasmine’s yearbook when I detect a vibration from the shorts under my gown. Reaching beneath the satiny, gold material, I yank my phone out on the sly, not wanting it to be confiscated.

  It’s a text from Rigel. Orion’s back.

  For how long?

  Don’t know, but he’s been here for days already.

  ???

  Staying with Junie.

  Junie? In the rainforest? I peek over at Rigel, who’s seated in the T’s between Amira Tehrani and Lucas Trudeau.

  The one and only. And then, as if he can feel my gaze, he looks up at me and nods.

  “Is it on?” Mr. Randolph’s sonorous voice rings out, magnified by the now operational microphone. Startled back to reality, everyone quiets. I slide Jasmine’s yearbook into my bag. “All right. Welcome!” With a perfunctory smile, he adjusts his glasses.

  Your parents know he’s here? I ask.

  They do now.

  After school, I walk down to my car, lost in thought. Why is Orion back? I’d like to think it’s for graduation, but he’d be a little early. I’m unlocking the door when I notice a folded white paper taped to my windshiel
d. Careful not to tear it, I peel it from the glass and open it.

  It’s Rigel’s acceptance letter to UGA. My heart drops to my shoes and I search the crowd, wondering where he is. He hugs me from behind, sliding his arms around me.

  “Congratulations!” I say, twisting to kiss his cheek. “I can’t believe you got yours first.”

  “You better get yours next,” he says. “Otherwise, I’ll have nothing to do but swim.”

  But I’m already there, thinking about fall in Athens, the leaves, and kissing Rigel in the cold.

  “Here we go,” I whisper, wiggling in anticipation. “Fingers crossed.”

  We’re at the Sandbar, a popular beach bar in Frederiksted, watching the sunset.

  Rigel folds his arms. “Don’t stare too hard. It’ll frig up your eyes.”

  The sun slips below the horizon, glinting green. “I saw it! I saw it!” I cry, letting out a cheer. Several of the people on the beach smile good naturedly at my excitement, raising their beers in a toast.

  “That was a good one, too,” says Rigel, as we make our way through the crowd.

  It’s a Saturday, so there’s a cruise ship in Frederiksted. The pier and streets are jammed with passengers visiting jewelry shops and food vans; a steel pan band performs while ladies in traditional madras dresses hand out rum punch. The beaches are packed as well, as herds of tourists join the regulars. We did the beach thing today too, before stopping at The Sandbar for burgers. When it looked like we’d be there late enough to watch the sunset, Rigel waited with me to see the famed green flash.

  Back at the truck, my cousin and Nando are rooting through the cooler. I climb onto the tailgate and Cam hops up beside me, her flipflops joining mine on the packed, dirty sand below. She’s on cloud nine because she finally got accepted to one of her top schools.

  Thankfully, I can relate. My acceptance letter to UGA was on the kitchen table when I got home last night. We’ve been celebrating ever since.

  “So is your friend going to be able to make it down?” Camille asks.

  “Once school’s out. They’re done before we are.” Sage had wanted to visit during Spring Break, but Grady’s vacation scheduled conflicted with ours. Summer turned out to be cheaper anyway, so she’s coming for the second half of June. I’m so excited to share St. Croix with her. She’ll fall in love.

  Nando sidles over, whispering to Camille. Rigel’s talking to some kid I don’t know, so I sit back and people-watch. Rumor has it there might be fireworks at nightfall, right over the pier. As I think it, a high pitched whistle culminates in an explosion. Fireworks fill the sky like jewel toned confetti. Far away, in the housing projects down the road, there’s celebratory gunfire; tell-tale pop pop pops between the glittery blooms in the sky. They did that on New Year’s, too.

  The cruise ship drifts slowly from the pier and out to sea. I wouldn’t mind being a passenger right now, watching fireworks from the deck.

  Camille leans close, resuming her story about Jasmine’s pregnancy scare. “Anyway. She wouldn’t have been able to keep it. Her mom told her when we were like, thirteen, that she’d make her get an abortion if she ever got pregnant.”

  I glance at Rigel to make sure he’s not listening. “But she’s not, though, right?”

  “No, thank God. She got her period.”

  “And it was definitely Orion?”

  “There’s no one else.”

  “When did this happen, though?” I ask. “If he’s been in Miami?”

  “Right before he left, which made it even worse because he was even more absent than usual.” Camille sighs. “I hate to say it, but I wish he’d just cut her loose.”

  I kind of agree, but… “That would break her heart.”

  “I know it would. But they’ve been doing this forever, Isla, and he’s not gonna change.”

  As if summoned by our words, Orion appears on the fringes of the parking lot crowd. Thrown by the coincidence, I watch him. I haven’t seen him since he’s been back on island; his hair’s longer than it was, starting to curl. Our eyes lock. Camille’s voice, and most everything else, fades as he comes closer. I raise my hand in a hesitant wave, but something’s up. He’s walking funny...and he’s got me trapped in a stare so intense I can’t break it. He waves back belatedly as the fireworks’ finale bathe his face in green, red and blue.

  “Rigel.” He’s still talking to that guy, and he squeezes my foot in response. Orion’s closer now, his face sallow even in the dim light. I shake Rigel’s shoulder, not caring if I’m being rude. “Rigel!”

  He turns abruptly, looking at me. “What’s up?”

  I point. “Did you see your brother?”

  Camille grabs my arm, and then everything happens at once. Orion pushes his way through to us and starts to pass out, eyes fluttering shut. Rigel lurches toward him, Nando at his side, catching Orion before he falls.

  “What happened?” shouts Rigel.

  “It’s okay,” Orion says, letting them support his weight. “Just get me to the hospital.”

  “What the fuck…” Nando’s lifted Orion’s black t-shirt. There’s so much blood it’s hard to tell where the wound is. Together, we ease him into the truck bed and lay him down, resting his head on my lap. Nando and Camille squeeze in on either side, bracing themselves against us to keep things steady. I focus on taking better breaths, shunning panic even as the overwhelm rolls over me in waves.

  There’s a break in the music up the beach. People are staring. Rigel slams the tailgate shut, looking at me. His eyes are wild. “Hold on to him, Isla.”

  Shouldn’t we just call 911? I want to scream, but I just nod. He climbs up front and starts the truck. Beside me, Camille’s on the phone to Jasmine, telling her what’s going on. “She’s meeting us at the hospital,” she says.

  “Okay.” I’m unable to look away from Orion, from his face, from Camille’s grasp on his bloody hand.

  I scarcely remember the ride to the hospital. I stare into Orion’s eyes the whole time, touching his cheek, making sure he stays awake. Rigel drives fast, but not crazy, pulling into the emergency bay as Nando runs in, calling for help. A team of medics rushes out with a stretcher, easing Orion on to it and wheeling him inside.

  Rigel tosses Nando his keys and runs in after them.

  Nando turns to Cam and I. “Go on in. I’ll park.”

  Inside, it’s carefully controlled chaos as the medics hustle Orion into a room for emergency operating. In the waiting room, Rigel paces. He can’t even look at me, and when he finally does, his eyes are filled with tears. My own eyes spill over and he looks away, collapsing into a chair across the room.

  Minutes melt into hours. Raymond and Diana came soon after we did, having left the younger kids with family. Jasmine’s here now too, folded beneath Cam’s arm as she cries.

  Rigel, having gone outside with his father, comes back my way. I reach for him as he passes, wanting him to sit, wanting to comfort him—anything—but he ghosts past. He’s not even here right now, not mentally, and wherever he is...I can’t go. He’s lost there.

  I’m quiet for so long that when Camille leans into me, touching me as she asks about food, I startle.

  “Sorry,” she whispers, giving my arm a soft squeeze. “We’re taking Ri’s truck to Mcdonalds or something. You hungry?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, reaching for my bag, but she stops me.

  “I got it. What do you want?”

  “Just get me whatever. I don’t care.”

  Nando walks over to Rigel, leaning down to speak to him. After a moment he comes over, offering me a hand.

  Puzzled, I take it, letting him pull me to standing. “Everything okay?”

  “Let’s go eat.”

  I look at my phone—it’s already past ten—and then over at Rigel, but his head’s in his hands and he’s staring at the floor. My heart is in my throat. There’s nothing I can do right now, and that scares me.

  “He asked me to bring you home,” Nando murmurs.


  I look down, wiping my eyes. “Okay.”

  Nando wraps his arm around me, but I shrug away and go to Rigel. “Hey.”

  Diana gives me a watery smile, patting my hand, but Rigel just looks at me with red-rimmed eyes.

  “I’ll go, okay? But I’ll come back if you want me to. I’ll have my phone right next to me.” A sob works its way up and I clamp my mouth shut, swallowing.

  He nods stiffly, hands clenched in his lap. Inconsolable. Out of everything that’s happened today, this is what crushes me the most: to see this beautiful boy break, and to have him shut me out at a time when I want nothing more than to be at his side. I’ve known that I loved him for awhile, but in this moment, it strikes me so hard I’m left bruised.

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” whispers Diana.

  I give her a small smile and turn to go. Camille and Nando are already waiting in the hall so I get my stuff and follow them out into the warm, humid night. There’s a full moon and a gentle wind, and how can it be so lovely when such ugly things have happened? The fear and grief I tried so hard to subdue wash over me, and I stop, rummaging through my bag for a tissue.

  The electric doors behind me whoosh open, and Rigel rushes out. Before I can say a word, he wraps himself around me and cries.

  Rigel doesn’t call, and I hardly sleep.

  When I close my eyes, I see Orion’s staring up at me as we held on to him in the truck. It’s a far cry from the cocky Casanova who danced with me last Halloween.

  Finally giving up sometime around four, I flip my laptop on and browse through my portfolios. Photos from September remind me of how I looked I when I was new on St. Croix, skin lighter and hair darker. More makeup. I straightened my hair a lot back then, too, before giving up and letting my curls do their thing.

  There are landscapes and classmates and swim meets and soccer teams. My mother, combing Alex’s knotty hair. Grandpa Harry, dozing on the porch. My feet in the sand, shadows of palm fronds on my skin. Camille, on Grandpa’s lap. Camille, underwater. Camille, kissing Nando. Nando and Rigel goofing around on the soccer field.

  Rigel.

  My heart twists, and I sigh in the darkness, pulling my computer closer. The first photos of him are subtly stalker-esque, which is funny now. Rigel on the starting block, seconds from diving in. Rigel, running on the beach. Rigel, giving Phoenix a noogie. Rigel, trying to take the camera from me.