Flat-Out Celeste

by Jessica Park

“It’s okay. It’s not like you can’t say his name. He’s your brother.”

  “But I’m right, am I not? Matthew has been the one great love of your life.”

  “Just because I haven’t been involved with anyone else really doesn’t mean… I don’t know. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I’m sorry. I wanted it to work out between you two. I believe it should have. And that it still can. He loves you.”

  “No. Not anymore.”

  “And you love him,” Celeste insisted.

  “No. I don’t. I don’t love Matt anymore.” But Julie’s voice broke.

  Celeste waited a moment. “Fine, then. You don’t love Matt; Matt doesn’t love you. There, all settled.”

  “Look, I’m glad you’re having a good time with Justin and enjoying being all googley-eyed, but that doesn’t make you an expert on everyone else’s life. You have no idea what Matt and I have been through. How complicated relationships can get. It’s not fair to act like I just gave up on us for no reason. It was a two-way street. It’s been two years. It’s over.” Julie had raised her voice, and Celeste heard a sniff. “Sometimes love is not enough, and it doesn’t matter how much you want it. Want him. And even if nobody else compares to that person, it doesn’t mean that you’re supposed to be with him.”

  Celeste sat up suddenly and smiled. Whether she knew it or not, Julie was giving her wonderful news. “You’re right,” she said matter-of-factly. “There is no hope. It’s over. I’m very sure that Matthew has no feelings for you either. He has likely forgotten your name. I won’t mention your hopeless relationship again.”

  Julie blew her nose in a most noisy manner. “Now, why don’t you tell me about colleges? Any idea where you might end up?”

  “I’m still not sure.”

  “Still no interest in flying? Stanford’s not too shabby. And near me.”

  “I would not mind an acceptance letter from such a prestigious school, but traveling across country by train so many times is impractical.”

  “Understood.”

  “College is boring. Let us continue talking about Justin.”

  Julie laughed. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

  Celeste helped herself to another pizelle and leaned back into the couch. Justin’s father, Filippo Milano, had been coerced into telling her what Justin was like as a child, and she was soaking in every word. Filippo leaned in from his spot on a chair next to her. “Bundle. Of. Energy. Which I’m sure doesn’t surprise you. That kid was non-stop. But he was adorable. You think that boy is cute now? He was just as cute as a baby. We totally let Justin’s charms work for us. We used to jump lines, get discounts at the bakery, that sort of thing. Anything for free cannoli, am I right? Have you ever tried to make those from scratch?” He rolled his eyes. “Who has time for that?”

  Erin playfully swatted his arm. “Oh, Filippo, you are a riot.”

  “Truly, Luka and I were so thrilled when Justin arrived. Now, truth be told, he never slept, so there were moments when both of us wondered if we might die from fatigue. I know the toddler years are rough for all parents, but dear God, he was exhausting. Moved nonstop, talked nonstop. Even in grade school, he barely slept. Up all night chatting to himself. But what an interesting child. Some children are dull, right? Let’s be honest. But Justin was anything but. Rather draining,” Filippo said with a laugh, “but he was and remains our darling baby.”

  Erin nodded and stared a little too intently. “Don’t they always stay our babies? I cannot believe Celeste is off to college next year.”

  “Happens in the blink of an eye.” Filippo rose from his seat. “May I get you ladies something to drink? Sparkling cherry water with an orange slice? And I know that the roasted pepper dip will be coming out of the oven in just a few minutes. Shall I stop here first with it?”

  “Absolutely,” Erin said. “I’m sure I’ll want to get that recipe from you, too.”

  “Then I will be back in a few, my dears. Erin, I want to hear more about your gardening.”

  Erin practically blushed.

  Celeste nibbled on a delicious waffle cookie and glared at her mother. “You do realize that man is gay, don’t you?”

  Erin ran a hand through her hair. “Yes, of course, he’s gay. It doesn’t mean that anyone should pretend that he’s not absolutely gorgeous.”

  “Mom!” Celeste laughed.

  “Well, he is! Don’t you agree? That sleek black hair, the dark Italian complexion…”

  “I may regurgitate all of the culinary treats I’ve consumed this evening. That man is Justin’s father. I am not going to comment on his appearance.” She touched a napkin to her mouth. “But he is gorgeous.”

  “See?” she practically squeaked.

  The New Year’s Eve party at Justin’s house was lovely. Although their condo in Needham was small, that had not stopped them from inviting what Celeste assumed to be every person the family had ever met. The condo was certainly modest compared to the Watkins’ house, but it had a genuinely warm feel with bright colors on the furniture and framed pictures that dotted the walls. And Justin had not been exaggerating when he’d spoken about white lights; the house was positively covered with candles and strings of lights. She loved it, probably because it was so reminiscent of the path that led to the Christmas tree.

  Erin brushed a few crumbs from her red dress. “I think I’ll go help Filippo in the kitchen.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “What? Can’t a girl have a little harmless fun? It’s New Year’s Eve!”

  “Perhaps I can take your place?”

  Celeste looked up to see Justin’s other father, Luka. She’d spent the first part of the evening with him glued to her side, and she liked him immensely. He had the same deep kindness that Justin did. Luka offered his hand to Erin and helped her to stand.

  “Such gracious manners around here,” she said. “Where is Roger? He could use a few lessons from these two.”

  “I do believe he’s in the kitchen already, helping with the meatballs.”

  “He is? How sexy.”

  “Mother!” Celeste was horrified. Yet underneath her sheer embarrassment, she was pleased to see her mother in such good spirits. And so relaxed. There were days when it was hard to even remember Erin’s depression, her consistently serious tone, and her exclusive focus on work and her children’s school performance. This new Erin? She was happier.

  Still, Celeste was relieved when Erin took off after the men and Luka sat down with her.

  “I very much like your tuxedo,” she said.

  “There are so few excuses in life to wear a tuxedo, so I take New Year’s to do so.” Luka had lovely grey hair on the side of his head that blended smoothly into the darker pieces. He had a very neatly trimmed beard and mustache, just a hint more than stubble, she thought, and all in all, there was something quite distinguished about him. “And you, in that silver dress? All sorts of sparkles? Did you wear that to impress your boyfriend’s gay parents?”

  “Oh. I had not thought of that.” She looked at Luka, loving the dimples that appeared on his cheeks. “Are you impressed or does it appear that I am attempting to suck up?” This was, without question, the first time that Celeste had every said the words suck up, but it seemed appropriate.

  “Impressed. With the dress, yes, but more with you. I don’t think that I’ve seen Justin this happy, maybe ever. He’s talked about you incessantly.”

  “I hope not to the point that you now find me uninteresting.”

  “Never.” Luka lifted his glass. “I toast you, my dear. And I’m glad that your family came here tonight. Is it making you nervous to have the families colliding? Parents and siblings meeting and trading who knows what?”

  “Aside from my mother’s inappropriate flirtation with your husband, the evening is going nicely, don’t you think?”

  “I do,” he agreed. “And your mother is a spitfire. Now where is your brother. Matthew? I haven’t had a chance to speak to him.”

&n
bsp; Celeste lifted her head to catch sight of Matt, who was standing with Justin by a very tall bookcase. “He’s there,” she pointed. “Do you know whom they are speaking with?”

  “Ah, yes. That’s my niece. Twenty-five, grad student at Tufts. Very cute. Think your brother would be interested?”

  “I think it is worth a try. Matthew is reticent to become involved with anyone due to his stubborn nature.”

  “An ex-girlfriend?” Luka guessed.

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe she shouldn’t be an ex.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I’ll give it a try anyway.”

  Justin had made his way through the crowd to them. “Dad, are you raking Celeste over the coals?”

  “I was not. I was talking about the possibility of Matthew and your cousin Amanda.”

  “Yeah, good luck. I gave it a shot. She might as well be talking about rocks, he looks so bored.”

  “Actually,” Celeste said, “Matthew is fascinated by rocks. You might suggest that to her. I did not realize that you were a family of matchmakers, but your attempts to bring a romance into Matthew’s life are very much appreciated. At least by me.”

  Justin stretched an arm over her shoulder and gave her a noisy kiss on the cheek. She couldn’t get enough of him. They’d seen each other nearly every day of winter break so far, and kissing him, getting to hold him, being held… How was she going to give this up when he went back to school? She couldn’t think about that now.

  “Love is love is love,” Justin said decidedly. “And we all need it. But I think Trent is about to pounce on Amanda if Matt doesn’t pick up speed. It’s too bad. She looks interested in Matt.”

  “You never know,” Luka said. “When the clock strikes midnight, your brother may get bitten by the New Year’s bug and make an unexpected move.”

  “That would be unlikely behavior from Matthew. He is not known for impulsive gestures.”

  “Impulsive is good,” Justin said. “It means you’re speaking from your gut. Or your heart. Or something like that. Some kind of important body part. Not, like, your elbow or something. Of course, we all enjoy our elbows because they’re good for jabbing people who misbehave, but speaking from one’s elbow doesn’t carry the same weight, right, because we don’t have a lot of feeling there? Fine, we have physical feeling, particularly the funny bone, so I suppose you could speak from your elbow if you’re a stand-up comedian. In any case… um…”

  “Impulsivity,” Celeste prompted.

  “Right! Being impulsive means you’ve let down your guard and are going after what you want.”

  Celeste looked at Matt. Her brother could stand to unleash a little impulsivity. Really, if Celeste could brave this new world of dating and socializing, Matthew could take a few risks of his own.

  She would have to work on encouraging this. Later.

  For now, she had someone to kiss at midnight.

  And when the clock sounded and the room cheered and music blared throughout the house—and she and Justin were in a more secluded hallway out of sight of their parents—she got her kiss. And it was somehow even more delicious than all of the others. In fact, every time they kissed, it was better. Not that they’d had anything but a phenomenal base to start from, but now he tasted more like him. Or more like them. Because she knew him on a deeper level, and she felt him in everything he did. Every move of his hand, every touch of his lips to hers, every breath he took as he whispered in her ear.

  When they reluctantly eased apart from each other, Justin lifted her hand in his and started slow dancing in the hall, slowing turning them in a circle.

  “Why are we dancing?” she asked.

  “Why not? It’s an excuse to hold you, how’s that?”

  “I like that excuse very much.” She rested her head on his shoulder. She had never danced with anyone before. “Hey, Justin?”

  “Hey, Celeste?”

  “You are going back to school soon.”

  He paused. “I know. Don’t remind me. But we still have a few weeks.”

  “What will happen then? I am unfamiliar with how a situation such as ours should be handled.”

  “I think it’s up to us.”

  “What is your preference?” She felt nearly sick asking this question.

  “My preference is to pack you in my suitcase, but those TSA people are so picky, and there’s some kind of stupid regulation about human trafficking and—”

  “Justin. This is serious.”

  “I know.” He entwined his fingers in her hair. “Blondie, I don’t like that we’re going to be apart, but we don’t have to feel apart. It’s just physical distance.”

  She thought immediately of Matt and Julie and how heinously distance had worked out for them, but she pushed that thought away.

  “Am I to understand that I am your girlfriend?” She jerked away from him and put a hand over her eyes. “I apologize. Was that a strange question to ask? I am sure there are unspoken rules about things such as this of which I am unaware, and I should not have… Oh God, this is awful…” She peeked out at him from behind her fingers. “Do not look at me like that. Do not be all understanding and patient. It’s extraordinarily weird that I do not know what to do here.”

  “No, no,” he said. “It’s good that you asked me that. You don’t play games, Celeste. I love how honest you are, how you say what you think. And you’re not missing anything here. There’s no set rule that we have to follow. We do what we want. This is between us and only us.”

  “I am still embarrassed.”

  “I can’t have my girlfriend feeling embarrassed. That won’t do at all.”

  Celeste dropped her hand and looked at him fully now. Girlfriend. “Really?”

  “I mean, if you’d like that.”

  “I would.” She said. “I think that I would like that quite a bit.”

  “Then, my lady, we shall be boyfriend and girlfriend, and we will figure out the long-distance thing as we go.”

  And with that, he encircled her waist and dipped her most formally.

  TO THE FUTURE

  Justin: I’m going surfing today! I’ve never been, but I feel sure that I am on the edge of a professional boarding career.

  Celeste: The water will allow you to surf without developing hypothermia now? It’s almost March, lest you have forgotten.

  Justin: What? I thought it was August. August of 1975. Wait, what year is it? Where am I?

  Celeste: Very funny. I was simply concerned for your well-being.

  Justin: And I am super touched and all heartmelty.

  Celeste: “Heartmelty” is not a word, I do not believe.

  Justin: I’m a wordsmith, an inventor of words that should be. And “melty” is a word, didya know that, smartie girl? Ergo, “heartmelty” needed to be invented.

  Celeste: If I recall, Webster’s fell to pressure and only very reluctantly added “melty” to their lexicon. “Didya” and “smartie,” however, are not… Well, never mind.

  Justin: Celeste!

  Celeste: Okay, fine.

  Celeste: Didya think it is smartie to go surfing in the cold weather?

  Justin: Look at you all sexy with the goofy words. And it’s still warm here, so don’t worry about me. This winter has been unusually gorgeous. It’s almost 80 today. Plus, I’ll be wearing some sort of protective bodysuit thing. Whatever it is that surfers wear. I best get the terminology down for my impending high-profile career. #Sharksbetternotbitemybutt

  Celeste: Please report back with your surf tales. I will be eager to hear. And to know that you are in one piece, without half of you making its way through a shark’s digestive tract. I have lunch now, so I must run.

  Justin: I’ll call you tonight! Surf’s up, dude!

  Justin: Did that sound lame? Probably. Let’s pretend I didn’t write that. I will investigate socially awesome surf talk today.

  Celeste: I would not be opposed should you want to text a photograph of yourself.


  Justin: In my sexy bodysuit?

  Celeste: Perhaps. Then we would be even, you know, since you have seen me in a bodysuit.

  Justin: Don’t think I’ve forgotten that. I’ll see what I can do.

  Celeste was becoming quite expert at walking and texting, although evidently her ability to attend to the rest of the world fell to the wayside when Justin was involved. Especially when a wet-suited boyfriend picture might be coming her way.

  Boyfriend.

  What a colossally glorious word. Not because having a boyfriend met some standard of teen life that she had finally attained. Celeste didn’t much care about that. What she did care about—what moved her heart so dramatically—was that she had Justin in her life. He was the first person with whom she could relax fully. And therefore, life was more vibrant.

  In her distraction, Celeste bumped into another student. She quickly apologized, embarrassed at being so lost in boyfriend thoughts that she noticed too late the scene ahead of her.

  Finding herself in the hallway of her high school with a swarm of screaming students swarming directly toward her triggered a sharp feeling of dread. Now what? Things had been going so well.

  She counted her attackers. Perhaps it wasn’t really a swarm. There were five people. Yet it felt like an out-of-control mob. Something had gone terribly wrong. Her few months of happiness were over. And now, on this Friday afternoon during late February, she was about to be flogged or otherwise assaulted by this group, all waving their arms and hollering at her. “Celeste!” She heard Dallas’s voice rise above the others’. “Celeste, come with us!”

  Before she could react, Dallas had grabbed her by the arm and was pulling her along with the whooping crowd toward Mr. Gil’s classroom. Classmates were patting her arms and back, chanting her name…. It was all incredibly disconcerting. Panic inducing, really.

  “Dallas, I do not have philosophy class now. I have lunch.” Celeste could hear the tremor in her voice. She was going to run out of air any second, she knew it. “I need to go. I must go now.”

  “I know, silly!” Dallas swung open the door, and Celeste was moved forward. “We have lunch for you here.”