Rewrite the Stars

by Rose, Charleigh

  “Has Sebastian told you anything about our…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “Family history?”

  “He’s not exactly Chatty Cathy,” I deadpan.

  “Right. To make a long, extremely complicated story short, we don’t date. We don’t marry. We don’t have children. We don’t get attached.”

  “I already got that spiel from Sebastian,” I say, boredom lacing my tone. “How does this involve me?”

  “Don’t play dumb,” he snaps. “We both know there’s something going on with you two.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but he stops me by holding up a hand.

  “Take it from me, Evan. This will end badly.”

  I shake my head. “You’re not making sense. Why do you care what I do?”

  “Sebastian’s not thinking straight. Someone around here has to.” He takes a sip of his coffee. When he speaks again, his voice is lower. Softer. “Look, I’ll buy you a one-way flight right now. Go home to your family, Evan. Before it’s too late. For both of you.”

  “Even if I wanted to leave, I have nowhere to go back to.” I stand, grabbing the bag with my sandwich and my coffee. “I have no one. If you brought me here to scare me into leaving with thinly veiled threats, then you can take me back. Now.” I should go home. In fact, I debated on it all night. I shouldn’t want to stay here, especially with what Sebastian said about me. But I won’t be forced to leave. And I’m not going to run away just because a boy hurt my feelings. I’m going to make it through the summer, and I’m going to have some fucking fun if it kills me.

  “Jesus.” Lathan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not threatening you. Just remember. I tried to warn you,” he says cryptically. He stands, pitching his near-full cup of coffee into the trash before storming out of the shop, leaving me standing there with a feeling of dread swirling in my stomach, but I don’t know why.

  There is definitely something weird about these people.

  As soon as we pull onto the dirt lot, I see Sebastian heading straight for us, murder written all over his face.

  “Here we go,” Lathan mutters, killing the engine. He barely has a chance to step out of the truck before Sebastian’s fisting his collar with both hands and slamming him into the side of the truck. Lathan doesn’t fight back. Almost like he expected this to happen.

  “What the fuck are you playing at?” Sebastian growls. I open the door, rounding the front of the truck.

  “We went for coffee,” he says with forced ease. Sebastian slides his eyes to me, looking for an explanation.

  I hold up my plastic cup and shake it, the ice rattling around. “Coffee,” I repeat. I should tell him about Lathan, but for reasons I’ve not yet figured out, I decide to keep it to myself for now. Lathan narrows his eyes, and I can practically see the questions in his mind. He’s wondering why I’m not saying anything.

  Sebastian loosens his grip on Lathan’s collar, and Lathan shoves him away, straightening his shirt. “Where’s the trust, brother?” Lathan smirks, pushing off the truck. Satisfied it’s not going to come to blows, I turn and walk away.

  “Evan,” Sebastian snaps, but I keep walking. And he doesn’t follow.

  My sandwich and I wander aimlessly as the whole carnival are hard at work, erecting their rides and booths and tents. I watch in amazement, seeing just how much goes into setting everything up. Sliding into a picnic table, I unwrap my sandwich, content watching the crew put the Ferris wheel together.

  “Intense, isn’t it?” I hear from my left. I jump, looking over to see a guy, probably around my age, if I had to guess. He’s shirtless, and his dark, sweat-slicked hair is pushed back like he just ran his hands through it and his amber eyes are rimmed in black. Is he wearing eyeliner? “I always wanted to get a time-lapse video of this place.” His jeans are baggy at the knees, as if they haven’t been washed in a while. He has that same thing the Sons of Eastlake have going on. That dirty but hot vibe. “I’m Miles,” he says, extending a hand.

  “Evan,” I say, putting my hand against his rough palm to shake it.

  “Ah, the infamous Evan,” he says knowingly. My eyebrows pinch together. “I figured as much. Heard you’re with the Eastlake boys,” he explains.

  “Oh, yeah.” I nod.

  “What do you do?” he asks, sliding in to straddle the bench seat, facing me.

  “Face-painting,” I say flatly. “You?”

  “Fire breather,” he says casually, and I almost choke on my turkey sandwich.

  “How have I not seen that?”

  He shrugs. “Not sure. You should come see me tomorrow.”

  I know Sebastian told me not to trust anyone, but I get a good vibe from Miles. Besides the burlesque girls that I met briefly, he’s the only one who hasn’t skeeved me out or pissed me off or judged me. Or maybe he is judging me, but he hasn’t done it out loud. “Okay.”

  Speaking of the burlesque girls, over his shoulder, I see one of them approaching. Kat, I think her name is. “This guy bothering you?” she says affectionately, as she hooks an arm around his neck. Miles circles her waist with one hand as she leans into him.

  “You’ve met?” he asks, looking up at her.

  “Mhm. Tried to get her to join us, but I think she’s a little shy.” She giggles.

  “I’m not shy,” I correct. “I’m just…”

  “Shy,” Miles states. “We’ll work on that. With a body like that, you shouldn’t be wasting your time face-painting.” The way he says it is so matter-of-fact and not smarmy that I don’t even feel like he’s giving me a compliment.

  “Are you guys together?” I ask, motioning between them.

  “Hell no.” Kat laughs. “We’re just friends.”

  “Doesn’t stop her from letting me play hide the sausage, though,” Miles says, wiggling his brows. I almost spit out my drink, laughing.

  “Oh my God,” she says, embarrassed. “Stop it. You’re going to scare our new friend away.”

  We fall into easy conversation as I finish my lunch. Hanging out with Miles and Kat feels natural. Some of the other Vixen girls stop by for a few minutes, and to my surprise, they’re all nice. I thought they’d hate me by now. There’s no way Selina hasn’t warned them away from me.

  By the time we’re done talking, the sun has started to set, and the Ferris wheel is nearly complete. As I walk back to the trailer, I feel lighter. And not so alone. It’s funny what a little kindness can do for the soul.

  When I near the bunkhouse, it’s uncharacteristically quiet. I peek around the trailer to find that some of the bikes that were there this morning are gone. Good. I could use some alone time. I heft my suitcase out of its designated spot—the narrow closet next to the bunks—and dig out one of the few remaining pairs of clean sleep shorts and grab my laptop and headphones from the inside pocket. I kick my jeans off, stuffing them back into my suitcase, then slide my shorts up my legs. Sebastian’s mom came by the other day to collect the guys’ dirty clothes. She was taking them to a laundromat, but I was too weirded out by the thought of Sebastian’s mother, whom I’m pretty sure despises me—another one on the list—handling my dirty underwear. I’m regretting that decision now.

  I eye the bunks, contemplating climbing into Sebastian’s to feed my rebellious streak, but I opt for Eros’ instead. He’s already offered it to me before. What’s the harm in using it if no one’s here? Throwing my laptop on top of his mattress, I climb up after it. I plug in my headphones and open up Netflix, scrolling through the independent category before selecting one of the few I’ve never seen before.

  I snuggle under Eros’ blankets, hoping they could pass a blacklight test. Not likely. When the movie starts up, I’m surprised to find that the opening scene is a sex scene. I squint, cocking my head, trying to figure out exactly what I’m seeing before I realize that it’s an actual sex scene. This isn’t good angles and tricky lighting. This shit is unsimulated. Leave it to me to find the one porno on the whole site.

  My hand i
s on the touchpad, hovering over the back button, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t look away. The man pumps two fingers into her as she works his length with her hand. They seem like they’re in a trance, or maybe on some serious drugs. I squeeze my thighs together, remembering how it felt when Sebastian had his fingers inside me. My nipples tighten as I run my hand down my stomach to my thigh. My skin is hypersensitive, and I feel like I could explode at the slightest touch.

  “Anything good?” I hear Sebastian’s voice just as he plucks the headphone from my ear. I snap my screen shut, my heart racing. Sebastian narrows his eyes, taking in my nervousness, my flushed face, and looks back at my laptop before lifting an eyebrow. “Well, well, well. We’ve got a little pervert on our hands.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You could’ve asked me if you needed a hand.”

  I clench my jaw, throwing the blankets off me before hopping off the bunk. “Never going to happen.”

  “Ah, but it already has, Princess. And you fucking loved it. I can still see it in my mind.” He slides his teeth across his bottom lip as if he’s picturing it.

  “Won’t be making the same mistake twice,” I say, trying to shove past him, but he blocks my way, bracing his arm on the wall.

  “Why have you been avoiding me?” His voice is lower and uncharacteristically soft.

  “You mean like you avoided me for an entire week? Do I get an explanation for that?”

  He works his jaw, assessing me.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “So, this is your idea of payback? Are you playing a game with me, Evan?”

  I laugh in his face. “Sure, Sebastian. It must be a game. There’s no other explanation. It couldn’t possibly be that I just. Don’t. Like. You.”

  He leans in close, bringing his lips close to my ear. I shiver, goosebumps cascading down my arms. Sebastian notices, running the backs of two fingers down my arm. “No. That’s definitely not it.”

  Not wanting to play the part of the fool once again, I break free, grab my laptop, and walk over to the couch where I lie down, intent on ignoring him until he goes away or I fall asleep. Whichever comes first.

  When I woke up the next morning, everyone was still asleep. Thankful that I didn’t have to face Sebastian after he caught me watching a pornographic indie flick, I quickly dressed and grabbed a muffin on my way out. My shift at the face-painting booth went by quickly, it being opening day and all. I spent my lunch with Kat and the other burlesque girls—minus Selina—and made plans to meet up with them later to see Miles’ act.

  Which brings me to now, standing in a crowd of people, watching a shirtless Miles spit fire to the beat of “Firestarter” by The Prodigy from his platform. A bottle of some unidentified liquid swings from his fingers, and he makes a show of bringing it to his lips, filling his mouth with it before spraying it back toward his torch.

  “What’s in there?” I ask Kat, shouting over the noise.

  “Depends on the night,” she yells, bending close to my ear. “Sometimes it’s alcohol, when he’s feeling reckless. Tonight, I’d say cornstarch.”

  I nod, keeping my eyes on the show. The crowd cheers, dancing and swinging their glowsticks and overpriced light-up toys as Miles gallivants across his little stage.

  I rub my arms, not anticipating how much it would cool down at nighttime. Kat told me to dress nice, but the short black dress with tiny straps does nothing to keep me warm. Suddenly, I get the feeling that I’m being watched. The back of my neck prickles with awareness, and I fidget with my choker, sliding a finger back and forth in a nervous gesture. I look through the horde of people, only to find Sebastian’s gaze fixed on me. He looks angry, even from here. I hold his stare for a few seconds before he abruptly turns to leave.

  “Girl,” Kat says into my ear.

  “What?” I ask.

  “He wants you. And not a female on Earth can resist a willing McAllister boy.”

  “He doesn’t,” I disagree. “And I can.” Resist him, that is. History doesn’t exactly prove my point, but from now on, it’s going to be different.

  “Mhm,” Kat says, her sarcasm evident even over the noise. Suddenly, the music comes to an end, and Miles is taking a bow, holding one arm behind his back. I’m starting to realize this guy has a flair for dramatics. A perfect showman. There’s something about him that pulls people in and captures their attention, and it’s more than the whole breathing fire thing.

  Kat wraps her fingers around my wrist. “Miles had his turn. Now you have to come watch my act.”

  I shoot her a look, not wanting to go anywhere near Selina.

  “Selina’s sick,” she says, using air quotes, reading my thoughts. “AKA hungover. Or possibly too drunk to perform. Either way, she won’t be there. I’m headlining tonight.” The way she says it makes it seem like it’s a common occurrence. Interesting.

  “Fine,” I concede. “Lead the way.” She beams, pulling me through the sea of people, her honey-brown curls bouncing between her shoulder blades with each step.

  Once we’re inside, my jaw drops, taking everything in. The burlesque tent is a huge, red, monster of a tent with a circular stage in the middle. There are multiple areas with couches off to the side with sheer red curtains draped around them, offering privacy. A crystal chandelier that hangs from the ceiling is the only light source, creating a moody atmosphere. Everything inside screams luxury—a stark contrast to the usual grit and grime of the rest of the carnival.

  “I picked the wrong job,” I remark, taking in the opulent room.

  “It’s not too late.” Kat laughs. “You have to try it at least once. The rush is like nothing you’ve felt before.”

  “I’ll think about it.” And I mean it.

  Kat leads me to a small table with two chairs, removing a reserved sign before motioning for me to sit. “We always save a couple tables in case we have guests,” she explains. “Do you want a drink before I head back to get ready?”

  I shake my head. Legally, I’m not allowed to drink, though I doubt it matters here. Kat gives my shoulder a squeeze. “See you in a few! I’ll be the one with my tits out.”

  I roll my eyes, both of us laughing as she turns to leave. “Make me proud!” I cup my hands around my mouth, yelling after her. At my voice, Eros’ head whips toward me from his seat. We notice each other at the same time, and he smirks, clearly amused by my presence. He’s with a few people, but it’s too dark to tell who’s who. I avert my gaze, fighting the urge to see if Sebastian’s with him. Seconds later, Eros is planting his ass in the seat next to me.

  “Fancy seeing you here.”

  “Well, I’m not at all surprised to see you here,” I tease. He settles back into his chair, resting one ankle on his knee, and tosses me a shrug.

  I prop my elbow on the tabletop, resting my chin on my palm as I surreptitiously glance back toward where he came.

  “Seb’s not here,” he says with an amusement in his voice. I scowl at him, and his finger comes out to tweak my bottom lip. “Quit pouting.” I don’t. “Or don’t. Suit yourself. Just know,” he says, leaning in close. “It’s making my dick hard.”

  I smack his shoulder. “Everything makes your dick hard.”

  “Facts.” He laughs. “Now, back to Seb…”

  I sigh. “What about him?”

  “I’ve noticed he’s been extra…prickly lately. You got anything to do with that?”

  Here we go again. “You don’t have to give me the speech. Lathan already beat you to it.”

  His brows knit together, confused. “What speech?”

  “You know, the whole ‘We don’t date. You don’t belong here. Leave now. Blah, blah, blah.’ Except, your cousin went so far as to offer to fly me home. You’re going to have to step your game up if you want to get rid of me.”

  Eros looks troubled for a second, considering my words, before he schools his features, that mischievous smile back in place. “That’s not the speech I was going to give
you. Mine was more along the lines of, for the love of God, please put out so he’s bearable to be around.”

  I arch a brow. I figured he’d know about what Lathan said to me, but his reaction has me second-guessing that assumption.

  Our conversation is cut short when the music starts. A haunting female cover of “House of the Rising Sun” wafts from the speakers as Kat saunters onto the stage in a gold dress that hits the tops of her thighs with fringe dangling from the hem, black stockings, and a black garter belt. She looks amazing. Eros sits back, stroking his short beard, eyes glued to the way she bends at the waist, giving the audience a prime view of her ass.

  Kat is like another person up there. Her demeanor is completely different as she moves seductively, slowly peeling off one article of clothing at a time. By the time the song ends, she’s standing in only red, heart-shaped pasties with tassels hanging from them. The audience hoots and hollers when she shakes her chest, making the tassels twirl.

  I laugh, standing to clap. Kat blows me a kiss, then her face falls as she looks at something past me. I turn to find Sebastian walking in and on his arm…is Selina. His eyes flash when he spots me, and mine flash right back, unable to tamp down the jealous streak that shoots through me. One of his arms is around her waist, his fingers digging into her sides. She jerks, mouthing ow, but when she follows his gaze and sees me, she leans farther into him. Grabbing the side of his face, she reaches up to press a kiss into the side of his neck.

  My heart races, my stomach twisting at the sight. Thankfully, everyone is too busy cheering for Kat to take notice of my display. Everyone but Sebastian. I make my way toward the entrance, eyes set forward as I breeze past them without a word, Selina’s laugher floating behind me.

  “GET IT TOGETHER,” I TELL Selina as I watch Evan’s back as she walks away from me. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” She stumbles on nothing, laughing like a fucking hyena.