by Lila Castle
I walk out, not bothering to straighten up or even lock the door. What do I care if the place gets broken into? I’d just as soon never set foot in it again. I continue home, barely seeing anything around me, the rain cold on my body. I will spend this night alone, just like last night, just like tomorrow night, and just like my birthday. I don’t know exactly when things started to unravel, leaving me in this void, but I do know this: I am counting the days until we leave Gingerbread. I am never coming back again.
Jason Morrison
Born April 3: Aries
Rising Sign: Taurus
Your stubborn nature irritates some, but your solid determination often brings you the rewards you seek, especially in love. Those around you celebrate your enthusiasm and zest for life. This summer, take stock of yourself. You have a gift; don’t be afraid to use it.
chapter 13
The phase of the moon at the exact time of your birth can give a whole other layer of meaning to the interpretation of your birth chart.
Wow, that sounds intense. My copy of Astrology for the Serious Star Searcher is well worth the money for gems like this. Though as I read further, I realize it takes a professional to figure it out since it depends on the number of degrees between the sun and the earth. I wonder if I could figure it out on my own if I read more about it—but most of these books discourage “lesser people” from trying the hard stuff. Well, screw it: so do baseball coaches.
My phone vibrates with a text that I don’t bother reading. Sarah. There’s no way I’m going to spend the night hearing about how she’s going to decorate her college dorm room. Her new obsessive conversation piece is almost as boring as the senior prom conversation, but less mind numbing than the tattoo one.
Holy crap. This is where I am: rating my girlfriend’s conversation on degrees of boring. Honestly, she can’t find my talking about baseball and astrology very interesting, can she? The passage gets me thinking about a customer yesterday who had some unusual traits for a Pisces—which could be explained by this moon-phase thing—but then the phone vibrates again, snapping my concentration. I reach over and turn it off. There’s no one I need to talk to tonight. I just want to get into this book so I can be even more on target at the Star Shack tomorrow.
The whole thing with Nate has me realizing a few things. I have an agenda now, an agenda that starts with becoming an astrology expert.
***
“If we had more time, we could get into nodes of the moon at the time of your birth,” I say to the twenty-something slacker tourist who is getting up from the customer chair. “But I think you’ve got what you need to score a date.”
He reaches over to fist bump me—nothing like a good astrology reading to make guys bond. “Thanks, brother,” he says as he heads out. “Name’s Jason, by the way. Jason Morrison. Like the lead singer of the Doors.”
I try to smile. Wasn’t the lead singer of the Doors named Jim Morrison? But whatever—the customer is always right. “Cool. Um…peace.”
“Nodes of the moon?” Annabelle snaps once he’s disappeared onto the boardwalk.
“You don’t know about them?” I ask. “It’s pretty cool, actually.”
“Of course I know about them. I just don’t think it’s relevant in a ten-minute reading.”
I shrug. “Maybe not. But I thought it was at least worth mentioning in case he decides to get his birth chart done later or something.”
Annabelle rolls her eyes. “Who’s the astrology freak now? Isn’t that the whole point of the dare? Can’t you see that I won?”
Before I can answer, the door flies open and Sarah stomps in.
“Where have you been?” she asks, glowering at me.
“Um…here? Also at home doing astrology research.”
“At home doing astrology research,” she repeats, in a tone that suggests I’ve been mutilating dead bodies in my free time. “Why would you be doing that?”
“Because I run a horoscope business?” I say defensively. “It’s cool when you get into it.” I shoot a look at Annabelle to see if she’ll jump in with her usual defense of astrology, but she is looking as annoyed as Sarah, which I don’t get.
“Right,” Sarah says, biting off the word. “Well, cool or not, I expect to see you tonight at the rec hall.”
“Really? You want me to go to the lame dance?”
She holds up a hand and stares me into silence. “Be there,” she says and then storms out, slamming the door behind her and rattling the booth so much that the leaky roof splatters rain on the floor.
“Better do what she says,” Annabelle says dryly, straightening the customer forms. “You wouldn’t want to get in trouble.”
I glare at her. “We have a relationship where there’s give and take on both sides,” I say, now even more annoyed that she’s pushed me to defend the sham. But even as the words come out, I realize that they sound like a joke.
“Some relationship,” she mutters.
“At least I’m in a relationship,” I snap. This is not my agenda at all. Should I just come out and tell her the truth about her wallet? But she should just know, right? I assumed she did…I’m not doing anything right, which I can totally see in Annabelle’s face as her eyes widen and her cheeks flush. “Hey, Annabelle, I—”
“Forget it…you’re right,” she says. “And here’s our next customer.”
I spend the next ten minutes telling some tourist named Martin he’s been chasing the wrong kind of girl his whole life, and it’s time to take a risk and go after a Scorpio or Capricorn and challenge himself to a relationship with someone as stubborn and determined as he is.
“You don’t just want to date doormats,” I say. “You can handle the challenge of a hardheaded woman.”
Martin is nodding like I’ve just changed his life.
“If you have a gift, you should use it,” I conclude.
“You guys are fabulous,” Martin says, though really Annabelle just sat there drinking coffee and staring off into space the whole time.
“Thanks. We try. This whole thing was her idea, you know.”
“Well, I can see why this is the hot spot on the boardwalk,” he says, thumbing through his wallet and pulling out a twenty. “A woman behind me in line drove from three towns over to get a reading.”
“Pretty insane,” I say, handing him change.
“Listen. I’m having a party Saturday for my eighteenth birthday, and you guys should come. It’s going to be a real blowout at the resort—a band, everything.”
“Sounds great,” I say, glancing at Annabelle, whose face is blank. “We’ll be there, right?”
She doesn’t even acknowledge me. Instead she smiles at Martin. “Thanks, but I think I’m busy then. Happy birthday, though.”
“Well, if you change your mind…” Martin heads out the door.
“Don’t ever make plans for me like that again!” Annabelle says angrily.
I flinch. “What? I didn’t think—”
“You don’t know anything about my life, Pete,” she interrupts. With that, she motions in the next customer and refuses to say a word to me for the rest of the day.
And thus begins the Annabelle Lomax silent treatment, which lasts for three straight days. Though I suppose I should have seen it coming. When Leos feel slighted, they tend to overreact.
***
By the third day of the silent treatment, I’ve had it. She needs to grow up already. I swear it’s like we’re in second grade the way she responds to everything I say with a nod or a shrug. Am I not the one who got her wallet back? Am I not worth the trouble of taxing her vocal cords?
Just when I’m about to slam the door and demand a real, actual conversation, Jed and Daisy stop by. Perfect. I roll my eyes, groan, and flop back into the chair. The loose screw digs into my back. (Another thing: no thanks for volunteering to take the bad chair the last three days, either.)
“Hey guys,” Jed says, giving us each a to-go cup of coffee. In all his life, Jed has ne
ver made a delivery. Now he’s bringing us freebies. The tops of the cups are covered with raindrops from Jed and Daisy’s walk over. I don’t get it.
“Thanks, this is just what I needed,” Annabelle says, as if it’s totally natural.
“Yeah, thanks,” I say. “But—”
“We wanted you to be the first to know,” Daisy says, almost squealing. “We’re getting married!”
A couple of people in line cheer.
“That’s fantastic!” Annabelle says.
“Totally,” I agree.
“It’s all thanks to you guys,” Daisy gushes.
Jed squeezes her hand. “It’s true. I’d still be working my butt off serving coffee alone if you guys hadn’t fired up my girl here to ask me out.”
Daisy leans over and kisses him. “It was the most important day of my life. We’ll have the wedding next summer, and we want you guys to be in it.”
“Really?” I gasp.
Jed nods. “Really.”
Wow. This is heavy. Heavier than I ever expected for a dare made out of anger. But still…pretty awesome. “I’d be honored,” I say truthfully.
There is a silence, and we all look over at Annabelle.
“Um, actually I’m not coming to Gingerbread next summer.” She forces a fragile smile. “I’m sorry—but definitely send me pictures and a video.”
The rest of the conversation is lost on me. Annabelle isn’t coming back to Gingerbread? The summer before college? I can’t believe it. It wouldn’t be Gingerbread without her. And what could possibly keep her away? I mean, I know her Grandma is planning to take her to Greece—but for the whole summer? I’d ask if she was actually talking to me. There is a commotion as Jed and Daisy wave good-bye. Sarah strides in, her eyes flashing.
“So what are we doing tonight?” she asks me, hands on her hips, seemingly oblivious to that fact that everyone in line is staring at her through the door.
“What do you mean?” I begin, with no idea where I’m going. This would be easier without an audience, but everyone is glued in place—even Daisy and Jed, looking back and forth between me and Sarah to see what will happen.
“I’m through with you,” Sarah says, hitting each word with emphasis. “I’ve been wasting my summer with an immature high school boy,” she says. “Have fun reading your little astrology charts. I’m going to find a man.” With that, she storms out, her feet splashing on the boardwalk.
Did she really say, “I’m going to find a man”? Yes. Yes, she did. I let out a long sigh, not sure whether it’s in joyous relief or irritation. Maybe both?
Jed looks at me sympathetically.
“Ouch,” I say, rubbing my face for a moment. The atmosphere in the booth is tense, in spite of the fact that I want to leap up and burst into song. “Don’t worry,” I tell the line of concerned-looking customers. “We got together before I knew our signs were completely incompatible. This will not happen to you.”
There’s a chuckle from the crowd. A tourist sits down and starts filling out a chart. I sneak a peak at Annabelle and see her face is stiff. I can’t tell what she’s thinking about what just happened…or if she even cares that she was totally right about Sarah. Or that I’m suddenly single.
“See you, guys,” Jed says as he and Daisy walk out.
“Big afternoon, huh?” I say to Annabelle, a shaky smile on my face. After the wedding news and my very public dumping, I figure she has to talk—but she shrugs.
And after the next reading, she takes off. Not a word of explanation—she’s just gone, leaving me with customers and the booth to clean up. I should have told her the truth about Nate. I should have done a lot of things.
I just hope it’s not too late.
Nate Browning
Born September 28: Libra
Rising Sign: Scorpio
You seek harmony and balance in your life and are willing to compromise to get it. Your quick thinking and charm bring people close to you. This is good because you are social by nature. This summer, things may get bad, and be prepared because it’s entirely likely they will get worse before they get better. Don’t give into your worst tendencies; they’ll only lead to ruin.
chapter 14
Hey there, Birthday Girl!”
Vanessa is so bubbly I’d barely know it was her if my cell phone hadn’t identified the caller. I almost didn’t answer. I’m not really in the mood to talk. But I’m also not in the mood to be quiet or to get home and stare at the walls of my room all night. So I picked up.
“It’s tomorrow,” I remind her, sidestepping a puddle on the boardwalk. It’s not raining, but the air is heavy after a long afternoon shower. I also notice a real chill in the air. Fall won’t be far behind.
“I know, silly,” Vanessa coos.
For a second I frown at my phone to affirm that this really is Vanessa talking to me. “Love has turned you into a cornball,” I tell her.
She laughs. “I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“I guess that’s one word for it.”
“Don’t be bitter. Tomorrow you’re turning seventeen, and it’s your day.”
“My day to celebrate the complete suckiness of my life,” I reply.
“Are you kidding? You’re going to be a senior and rule your nice suburban school where you can have your pick of cute younger guys!”
I shake my head, not believing this is Vanessa, or not wanting to believe it. “So you think my love life is so pathetic it’s already time to go the cougar route?” I ask. “And mind you, younger guys in high school are not younger guys in real life.”
She laughs. “Okay…so maybe an older guy.”
“Yeah, I’m sure a gorgeous movie star is just waiting back in Albany to snatch me up,” I say. I sit down on a bench and look out over the water.
“So I take it Pete hasn’t said anything about your birthday yet,” she says.
“He’s completely forgotten. It’s obvious,” I say hollowly. The water is a dark gray under the thick clouds, and the waves are choppy. It perfectly suits my mood.
“You don’t believe that,” she says.
I take a deep breath. The thing is, I really didn’t believe it. Sure, Pete and I are barely speaking, but he doesn’t have Sarah keeping him busy anymore. I’m not an idiot. I know he’s totally over me. But I admit I was harboring hope that he’d still want to celebrate my birthday with me. Or at the very least remember it. But all he can talk about are rising signs being more important than he’d realized, and what it means to be a mutable sign versus a fixed sign. And it’s my fault, of course. He can see everyone’s birthday but mine.
“Trust me, it’s true,” I finally tell Vanessa.
“Maybe he’ll remember tomorrow,” she says.
I shrug. I know she can’t see it, but I’m sure she’ll get the gist. I mean, yeah, it’s slightly possible he’d remember—but considering he hasn’t yet, why would he? And at this point, would it really help to have him remember so last second? What makes me ache is that it wasn’t important enough to try to overcome our terrible summer and do something together. I wasn’t important enough.
“I think he’s just distracted by his breakup and all,” Vanessa says.
Suddenly I’m the bitter shrew. “Maybe, but he’s better off without her,” I say. “Honestly, all he talks about is astrology. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Wait…what?” she exclaims. “How can that drive you crazy?”
“I’ve decided I hate astrology with a passion,” I tell her, even though I know I’m lying.
“Um…got it,” Vanessa says. “No astrology for Annabelle.”
“At this point, just hearing the word makes me break out in hives.”
“I’ll let you go,” she says, sounding slightly concerned.
“Metaphorical hives,” I clarify. “Which are actually worse than real ones.”
She laughs. “You should still do something special for your birthday.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure my parents ar
e taking me out for breakfast,” I say dryly. “So that will be amazing.”
“Well, I bet they’ll give you good presents.” Vanessa is grasping for straws now. “Oh, and I bet Gabe and Grandma Hillary sent you something really terrific! There was an article in the New York Times yesterday about silk produced in Central Asia. Maybe they’ll bring you a dress or pajamas or something.”
I roll my eyes. At least Vanessa is still her true self, even though she’s also gaga with new love. “Since they haven’t even bothered emailing me for weeks, I doubt it,” I say. “They’ll probably forget my birthday too.”
“Chin up, Little Bear,” Vanessa says.
“Um…Did you just call me Little Bear?”
“Yes. That is what John calls his little sister. Isn’t it cute?”
“Darling,” I say. A little bit of misty rain is starting up. I know I’m being a total bummer, but I just can’t bring myself to talk to Vanessa about her fabulous boyfriend who adores her and has sweet nicknames for his sister.
“Call me tomorrow,” she says. “And remember, there are other fish in the sea. I didn’t believe you when you said that after Silas, and look at me now!”
“Right. Bye.” I close the phone and walk toward home with the rain falling softly on my face. It’s true that Vanessa has found love with another guy, someone way better than Silas. But I know that will not happen to me.
Sure, there may be other guys at some point…guys who make my heart flutter and do nice things for me and maybe even have sweet nicknames for their siblings. But there is only one soul mate, one person I am meant for. And even now, when it’s clear he doesn’t want me, I know that will never change.
***
I can’t sleep. After a long night of doing nothing, I figured sleep would be a relief, but apparently relief is not in “the stars.” I find myself hating astrology again, and that makes me feel even worse. I’ve been tossing and turning for an hour, and I’m more awake than ever. I open my eyes and look at the clock. 11:59. It’s my last minute of being sixteen, a year that started with such promise. Sweet sixteen. Ha! What does that mean for the year ahead? Sour seventeen?