In the Stars

by Stacia Deutsch

  “Nothing,” I say, because it’s darn obvious that I wasn’t actually doing anything. “I was just thinking.”

  “About Adam and the Spring Fling Prom?”

  Cherise really is the best guesser, I mean predictor, on Earth. She could have her own call-in radio show and make a fortune.

  “Well …,” I admit. I can’t help but look across the caf and smile.

  When I got to school this morning, Adam was waiting for me on the steps leading into the building. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him standing there wearing khaki pants and a light blue jacket. Now he’s taken off the jacket, revealing a tight-fitting graphic T. I am honestly going to have to see a cardiologist if he doesn’t put his jacket back on soon. Missing one beat was plenty of excitement—that T-shirt is way too much for one small organ to handle.

  Adam was sitting with us, but now he’s gone and he’s … table hopping, for lack of a better phrase. He’s over at the swim team table now, but I’ve tracked his progress through a number of different social groups. The cool thing about Adam (one of a growing list) is that he’s attended so many different schools, he knows how to make friends fast. He doesn’t feel bound by social groups or cycles of popularity. He’s as comfortable with the math students as with the cheerleaders. I wish more people were like him.

  He’s simply perfect. Perhaps even too perfect. Can a guy be too perfect?

  Today, like yesterday, he’s been helping me around the school. Carrying my books while I navigate the hall on my crutches. Bringing me water and snacks. Dropping me off at class, making sure I am comfortable before heading off to his own classes … that kind of stuff.

  Cherise is beaming with pride at how this is all unfolding.

  Just a little while ago, when Adam guided me into the lunchroom, the whole swim team was already eating together and they started calling: “Hey Adam!” and “Come on over here.”

  “Let’s go, Sylvie,” Adam said as he started heading over toward his teammates. I started toward them but then I saw Gavin Masterson scoot over on the long bench to make room for us right next to him.

  “No thanks,” I told Adam, frantically scanning the caf. “Cherise’s waiting for me.”

  “You and I sat with Cherise yesterday.” Adam reminded me how he sat with us, forsaking his swim team pals. “Let’s sit with the team today.” Adam gave me his most persuasive grin. It’s hard to turn down that grin. It puts butterflies in my belly. “Maybe you’ll make some new friends.”

  I looked over at the swim team guys. Gavin Masterson waved at me. There was a sparkle in his eye that immediately reminded me why I don’t like him. It’s as if he’s constantly planning to do something evil.

  I turned away and, luckily, it was then that I saw Cherise and Tyler sitting at a table by themselves. “Maybe next week,” I told Adam. “The table seems pretty crowded and I need extra room to put up my ankle.” I hobbled on my crutches over toward Cherise.

  Thing is, Cherise probably wouldn’t have said anything if I went with Adam to the swim table. I think she’d encourage my relationship with Adam over honoring her feud with Gavin. But I can’t do it. There’s no way I’m eating lunch with the swim team. Not today or ever.

  I don’t mind if Adam wants to eat over there, though. I mean, he is on the team and all.

  Adam carried my lunch for me and set it next to Cherise. Then, he hung around for a little while before heading off to circle the cafeteria, eventually landing at the table with his team, taking residence in that empty seat next to Gavin Masterson. Gavin immediately put his arm around Adam and drew him in close for some kind of private joke.

  And yet, being as perfect as he is, before he started his cafeteria tour, Adam whispered a reassurance to me that he’s only friendly to Gavin because of the swim team. It’s not like he plans to become best buddies with him or anything like that.

  Lunch is nearly over when I decide to talk to Cherise about what I’ve been thinking.

  “Cherise,” my tone comes out more anxious than I’d like, “for one minute, I don’t want you to read the cosmos. As my best friend, I simply want your opinion. You have known me most of my life. This whole Adam-and-me-relationship thing is too weird. I just don’t get it.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you the planets had an unseen vibration that radiated from their geometric positions on the day of your birth at the moment of your first breath?”

  “Please, no,” I tell her, putting up one hand to stop the mumbo. “Is there any other reason Adam might want to date me? Any other reason at all?”

  “How about this: You’re likeable,” Cherise says.

  I’m not convinced. I think that maybe she’s telling me what I want to hear instead of what she believes.

  “I like you,” she prattles on. “And Tyler likes you.” At that Tyler raises his head. He looks at me sideways as if checking out a car wreck, something you don’t want to see, but can’t help staring at regardless.

  “Come on, Cherise,” I beg. “Adam seems to have no faults at all. He’s cute and popular and athletic with just the right mix of nerd thrown in. There must be a reason, a real reason he’s picked me over all the other girls at school.” I pause and glance over at Adam, who’s having some kind of milk-chugging contest with Gavin. The guys at the table are going wild. I can hear them shouting Adam’s name.

  I take a deep breath and remind myself that he has to be friendly to the team captain.

  Cherise puts her fork down. It clinks against the table. “Face it, Sylvie, Adam asked you out because the time was right.”

  “Do you mean that if Mars wasn’t in Gemini, Adam wouldn’t like me at all?” This isn’t the answer I expected. I feel a little creepy. Like Cherise is saying that Adam is attracted to me against his will.

  “Don’t be silly,” she reprimands. “If you met last week, he’d still like you. He just wouldn’t fall in love with you.”

  Now I am feeling even more creeped out. Does Cherise really believe that Adam is some planetary puppet? I regret having raised the subject. I’m not sure how I expected her to answer my question but this wasn’t it.

  “If Adam doesn’t like me on his own, then this deal is off. I’m going back to guy-avoidance mode and cancelling our date Saturday night.”

  “Don’t worry so much,” Cherise tells me. “The stars set things in motion. That’s all. You both can ride your destiny, or avoid it. Up to you.”

  I guess I get it. Kind of. “So,” I say, to be certain, “you believe that Adam and I met on Wednesday because of the stars, but he didn’t have to ask me out, and I didn’t have to say yes. We could have stopped the train at any station?”

  “I knew you’d understand!” Cherise is glowing with pride and happiness. For her, this is the instant that I, Sylvie the Scientist, come to understand astrology.

  I don’t buy it, but I have committed myself to go along with her stars theory. Being my obsessive self, I will continue to wonder why Adam has chosen me, of all people on Earth, or at least in this school, to go out with this Saturday night.

  Looking over at Adam, I see that he’s headed my way and once again I wonder if he’s just too perfect. If I had put everything I wanted in a guy, looks and personality, into a computer, Adam would have popped out. He’s that perfect. He doesn’t even bite his nails, or smoke, or do anything obviously destructive.

  “Ready to go?” Adam arrives and begins to gather up my books. “The bell’s about to ring. It’s time for the next period.” Add punctuality to his list of attributes. And politeness, as Adam nods to Tyler and asks how he’s doing.

  “Fine,” Tyler replies curtly. “Gotta dash.” He jumps up and slips on his black jacket, which blends in with his black pants and shoes and shirt. His skull-and-crossbones earring shimmers in the fluorescent lighting. “Later,” Tyler says to Adam, me, and Cherise as he vacates. Four words. That’s all Tyler said the entire lunch period. When Adam helped me settle in at the table, Tyler didn’t respond to either of us,
even though we both greeted him. I’ve never understood Tyler and frankly, have never really tried. Though on some level, he’s always intrigued me. Not enough to try to talk to him, but just enough to make me curious about what more there is behind his black exterior.

  Acting once more the prince, Adam guides me to standing, careful to avoid bumping my ankle. His lovely eyes are bright and there is a warm sincerity in the way he’s helping me. He even clears my tray. As Cherise reaches for her brother’s deserted plate, I’m suddenly curious about what Tyler was creating with his potatoes.

  It’s a mashed potato star.

  And he left his fork stabbed directly into the middle of it.

  Seven

  Loosen up and enjoy the moment, there is always room for critical thought later.

  www.astrology4stars.com

  I’m in the shop, hemming pants as usual, when Cherise arrives. We’re alone once again. My father had run to a supplier for more black thread. Being a tuxedo shop, we go through a lot of black thread.

  Cherise has come to tell me exactly when Adam will be asking me to the prom. But first she wants to know, “Where are you guys going Saturday night?”

  I shrug and for an instant wonder if it’s a bad thing that here it is Friday afternoon and Adam and I haven’t firmed up our plans for tomorrow night. “We haven’t talked about it,” I tell her. “Adam said he’d be in touch after swim practice today.”

  “That’s exactly what I hoped you’d say,” Cherise cheers, grabbing a chair and pulling my astrological chart out of her book bag. “I have something to show you.”

  I can’t help it. I roll my eyes. I’m trying so hard to be accepting of all this. The eye-roll was a throw back to BD (Before I made the Deal with her regarding Adam asking me out). BD, I permitted myself to make fun of Cherise’s hobby. Now, I must reprimand myself and silently promise to try harder to keep my cynicism under control.

  Either Cherise doesn’t notice my slip, or she doesn’t care. “I was reviewing your chart,” she says.

  “The solar or natal one?” I cut in. Just to show how much I’m trying, I’ve taken to using her lingo. If I’d won the deal instead of her, I’d fully expect her to be spouting astronomy terms. Fair is fair.

  “The natal one,” she tells me while unfolding the large familiar white paper with its big hand-drawn pizza circle. The chart is looking well-worn. The paper’s now wrinkled and battered around the edges as if she’d been folding it and unfolding it frequently. Studying it. Memorizing it. Preparing to make more predictions about me with it.

  Cherise spreads the paper on my sewing table, knocking a spool of thread to the ground as she runs her hand over the page to smooth out the creases.

  “See here, Sylvie,” she begins. Cherise has graduated from pointing at the chart with a simple pen, to some long fancy wooden pointer thingy with a cast silver hand on the end. The pointer part is a little hand with its first finger out and on the wee mini-nail is a small purple stone. I interrupt to ask Cherise where she got the pointer thingy and she tells me it’s a Jewish ritual object for reading the Torah, the first five books of the Bible written in scroll form.

  Cherise isn’t Jewish and doesn’t own a Torah, or a Bible in any form. She’s told me before, “The world is my religion, the Earth my goddess.” Since my father has never taken me to a church, synagogue, or mosque of any kind, ever, who am I to criticize another person’s beliefs? We’re Christian, even though we never go to church. The only religious holiday we celebrate is Christmas. Cherise’s family commemorates Christmas, too, although Cherise would never say it’s because she’s Christian. Cherise chooses to call their tree a “Universal Evergreen of Everlasting Love.” Whatever.

  “I think the pointer adds dignity to my astrological reading,” she informs me. Then adds, “Nathan Feldman lent it to me. He got it for his bar mitzvah. I think he’s still trying to get up the nerve to ask me out.” I laugh because Nathan Feldman has been trying to ask Cherise out since kindergarten. He often hovers, mutters, and retreats. Sometimes, he gives Cherise gifts or stuff for her to borrow as conversation starters, like today I suppose, when he lent her the pointer. Sometimes I just want to shake him and shout, “Get it over with already! Ask her out!” But I don’t and he won’t.

  I’m of the opinion that by using the pointer on an astrological chart, Cherise is practicing some sort of sacrilege or mocking a Jewish religious object, but she looks so serious, I decide that voicing my concern would be tantamount to throwing our friendship out the window. I know with certainty that Cherise respects all people equally. There’s no way she’d intentionally mock someone’s faith.

  “Nice purple stone,” I remark instead of saying what’s on my mind.

  “Thanks. It’s amethyst, the stone of intuition.” She grins. “Now, about the prom. You can see that Aquarius is in your Fifth House.” She taps one of the drawn pieces of pizza with her pointer. “This is the house of Creativity and Sexual—”

  Saved by the bell. The shop’s doorbell, that is! I don’t think I could have shot out of my chair and grabbed my crutches to answer the summons any faster if there was a supernova explosion under my feet.

  Emerging from the back room, I discover Tanisha and Jennifer standing by the wedding dress. Once again, admiring it and probably dreaming about their own eventual nuptials.

  “Hey,” they say simultaneously as I approach, slowly swinging on my crutches.

  I don’t even have a chance to utter a few generic niceties before they launch into why they’re paying me another unexpected visit.

  “Did you get a chance to look at the costume designs?” Jennifer asks.

  “Yeah, did ya?” Tanisha leans in toward me.

  “I—” Hmm. Not sure what to say. I still don’t have time to make those dresses, no matter how pretty they are. Then again, I suppose if I was going to the dance with Adam, I would like to wear the Cinderella costume, the whole “Prince Charming” thing being such big deal around school. The costumes would be glamorous and make a comedic statement at the same time. “I …,” I begin again.

  “What costume designs?” Cherise sticks her head out of the back room where she’s clearly been eavesdropping on the conversation.

  “I …” I’m starting to sound like a broken record.

  “Ohhh,” Cherise says suddenly. I see her standing taller as she realizes that these “designs” were the reason Jennifer and Tanisha came into the shop this past Monday. And with that dawning realization, comes the knowledge that she saw me stash the drawings behind my father’s desk. Where they have remained ever since.

  Cherise is behind the desk in a flash. Seconds later, she emerges with Jennifer and Tanisha’s three sketches in her hand.

  “Wow,” Cherise says as she studies the wood nymph and its wings. “Oh my,” she gasps after seeing the Old English gown with its velvet and lace. And when she flips the page to the third, Cherise, for possibly the first time in her life, is speechless.

  We all stand silently watching, waiting for her to speak. When she finally opens her mouth, Cherise dramatically clutches the pages to her chest, holds them against her heart, saying, “You have to make these costumes, Sylvie. You just have to.”

  Jennifer jumps in. “Tanisha and I are road tripping. We’ve decided that to make these costumes work, we need to visit the best fabric store in all of Ohio. It’s a little shop near Case Western called Maude’s Materials.”

  “I went there once with my mom when I was a kid,” Tanisha adds.

  “My dad’s at a conference in Cleveland, so we’re catching the bus first thing in the morning and he’ll drive us back home early Sunday afternoon,” Jennifer tells us. Turning to me, she says, “We were going to buy the material as a surprise for you.” Jennifer is so pleased with herself, she’s glowing.

  Tanisha adds, “While we’re in Cleveland, we’re going to tour the Case Western Reserve’s theater department. We’ve both been accepted to go to Case next year to study theater arts and co
stume design.”

  “After we graduate, we’re going to open our own custom costume design shop.” Jennifer puts in. “We’ll call it ‘J T Designs.’ Isn’t that the bomb?”

  “Yeah,” I softly echo. “The bomb.” I still haven’t agreed to make anything and already I’m feeling an unwelcome amount of pressure. “Look,” I tell them. “Your costume designs are really good, but I’ve no idea how I could possibly make them.” I mean I’ve already added a boyfriend to my very busy schedule. Making three dresses might be just the thing to put me over the edge.

  “She’ll do it.”

  My head spins entirely around in a move made famous by The Exorcist.

  Cherise drapes one arm loosely around my shoulder and pulls me into a private corner. “The dresses are part of your destiny,” she tells me. “It’s no coincidence that the Fashionistas have handed you these drawings and asked you to create the costumes. It’s all part of what I wanted to show you this afternoon.”

  With one hand on my back, Cherise leads me back into the sewing room, motioning for the other girls to join us. My crutches propel me forward as she escorts me back to my chair and picks up her Jewish pointer thingy. Jennifer and Tanisha have followed, obviously curious as to what Cherise wants to show them.

  The whole Tanisha “fox purse incident” is apparently forgiven or perhaps forgotten the moment they get a first glance at the astrological chart Cherise’s drawn for me. For some crazy reason, the chart seems to raise her in their esteem. They don’t even seem to mind that she keeps referring to them as the “Fashionistas.” I think they might even like it.

  Cherise quickly brings Jennifer and Tanisha up to speed in the predestined saga of Sylvie and Adam. I can tell by the looks on their faces, they are eating up this romantic tale of literally star-crossed lovers. She tells them that due to my Soul Urge number, 4, he’s asked me out, but that we haven’t determined where we’re going.

  “Now, look here,” Cherise says, indicating a place on the chart with the pointer. “With Jupiter entering Scorpio, Sylvie’s love interest will take her to a familiar location and ask her an important question.”