Made of Stars (7 page)

“Yeah… Yeah. All right. But we’re going to get a decent raft. If we get stranded out there, we’re screwed. Ash?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m totally in.”

Chance hops to his feet, draping an arm around Ash with a grin. “That’s my girl! This is going to be awesome.”

Ashlin

The way Hunter tells it, he and Rachael met in calculus at school when she took on the task of tutoring him to bring his C up to an A because it was the only subject he struggled in. She was the one to ask him out, in fact. Then they graduated, and Rachael picked a school all the way down in Florida with a good biochemistry program. Naturally, she begged Hunter to go with her.

He could’ve gotten in; his grades were good enough, and the college had a track program he would’ve qualified for in order to get at least a partial scholarship.

Hunter, though, wants to stay in Maine. Or at least not move so far away as Florida. He wanted to be here for Dad this year, and he wanted to spend time with Chance and me. The bullet that almost took our dad also stole a lot of my time with my brother. Even if we communicated almost daily through e-mail and text and phone, it wasn’t the same. I wanted to be able to see Hunter’s face. I wanted to come home and fight with him over stupid stuff, like chores and who was cooking dinner and what movie we were watching. Our lives could’ve been way different if we’d grown up living together. Maybe this bond we have wouldn’t be as strong and we would hate each other. I have no idea.

All I know is that Hunter doesn’t have his future figured out in the least. “I asked her to give me some time to think about it,” is all he would tell me. “She wants me to come down there and get a place together near campus.” But the way he says it suggests that those are
Rachael’s
plans, and not necessarily his.

I like to think Rachael understood about Hunter taking a year off to spend in Maine, but then I remember she’s only human and any girl whose boyfriend is states away isn’t going to be happy with the arrangement. I’ll bet she’s ecstatic to visit over the holidays.

I don’t understand why Hunter isn’t as excited.

He was when he first announced Rachael’s visit the week we got to Dad’s. Then that excitement slowly ebbed away. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say now he is
dreading
it. He dragged his feet when setting up the extra bedroom—Dad’s old room—for her to use. (Why Dad thinks they’re actually going to sleep in separate rooms, I have no clue. His own peace of mind, I guess.) And at the airport, his shoulders are a little tense, his arms folded, mouth curved down, like he’s
bracing
himself for this.

It bothers me. I have this image in my head of what their relationship is like, but Hunter’s lack of enthusiasm about his long-time girlfriend and his willingness to live so far away from her indefinitely is starting to dash my hopes and dreams. Hunter has always spoken fondly of Rachael, but I’m the first to admit he isn’t the sort of person to gush about anyone or anything. Still, I got the impression they were happy. Why would you date someone for a year if you weren’t?

Rachael’s plane is right on time. She comes through the gate in boots, leggings, and a white sweater, with her dark, wavy hair pulled into a ponytail—she doesn’t even look like she’s spent the last several hours on a plane. Jeez, when I got here, my hair had been a mess, my makeup gone, and I was carting enough baggage under my eyes they could have charged me an extra carry-on fee.

This is the Rachael I pictured, though. Put-together and pretty. She smiles wide when she spots Hunter, but there is no grand reunion like I imagined. She approaches, sets her bags on the ground, and kisses him on the cheek. The
cheek
. No big hug, no passionate kiss. It throws me a little, but maybe she’s being polite. Reserved. Because she’s in a public place and I’m standing right here.

I think Hunter’s expression has smoothed out, though, a small smile slipping across his face. “How was the flight?”

“Fine, just fine.” Rachael turns her pretty smile to me. “You must be Ashlin. It’s great to finally meet you.” She gives
me
a hug, which startles me, but I awkwardly return her squeeze.

“Yeah—it’s great. Here, let me get your stuff.”

The long drive home, Rachael and I fall into easy conversation. She tells me about school and her classes, and I tell her how Dad’s been feeling. I mention Chance, of course. It’s impossible not to when he spends nearly every waking moment at our place.

And yet, when we arrive home, and Chance is seated on the couch watching TV, Rachael looks surprised. I don’t think Chance being here is anything less than intentional. He waited because he wanted to meet Rachael.

Chance rises to his feet. The shirt and sweats he’s wearing are Hunter’s, so they don’t fit quite right, and his hair is wet from a shower. Making himself at home, like he always has, like we’ve always wanted him to. Before, the situation never seemed strange to me. But now, seeing the perplexed expression on Rachael’s face, I wonder how it looks through the eyes of an outsider.

“There you are. I told Mr. J I would wait up to make sure you didn’t crash and die on the way home or anything.” He grins, all easy words, but there’s a sharpness to his eyes that makes me nervous for Hunter’s sake. I know it’s going to be important to him that his girlfriend and his best friend get along.

Recovering from her surprise, Rachael smiles. “You’re Chance.”

“The one and only.” He looks pleased she knows who he is. Which, I guess, makes sense given he might not have known who
she
was had I not spilled the beans weeks ago. “And you are the mysterious and lovely Rachael Li.”

His compliment seems to soothe Rachael’s unease, and she tips her head, expression warming. “Oh, I don’t know about that. It was nice of you to stick around to see us home.”

Hunter catches my eye from beside Rachael, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he sank right into the floor and vanished. We both know Chance won’t go home this late. We wouldn’t want him to. Not with how cold it is outside and on an unlit road.

“Uh, Hunt, you should get Rachael to her room. I’m sure she’s exhausted,” I say, and he looks grateful for the opportunity to slip away.

“See you crazy kids in the morning,” Chance chirps, earning him a quizzical look from Rachael as she follows Hunter upstairs. The moment they’re gone, the smile slips from his face, and I’m left cringing at the uncomfortable silence settling over the room like a cold blanket. He doesn’t look at me. I flick off the TV and tableside lamp, leaving us in darkness, and then give Chance a push toward the stairs. He’s never spent a night on our couch, and I’m not going to make him start now. He grunts but goes without complaint.

Chance hasn’t shared a bed with me since the summer we met him. After that, the closest we got was all three of us crashing on the living room floor or the back porch beneath the stars. A huge difference from actually lying beside Chance. Alone. In a bed. I get changed into shorts and a sweatshirt in the bathroom, and when I come back Chance has already made himself comfortable in my bed. Dad loves Chance, but I’m not sure he’d be as pleased as I am at the idea of him and me sharing such close quarters.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

As I sink down alongside Chance, he asks, “So, was that well-behaved enough?”

I give him a sidelong look and pull the blankets up around me. Even with the distance between us, I can feel the warmth Chance gives off. I wonder what he’d say if I curled into him, fit myself against his side. “Was it that much effort to behave?”

He stares at the ceiling, not meeting my gaze. “It didn’t show? I’m a better actor than I thought.”

“Why should you have to try, though? What’s wrong with Rachael? She seems nice.”

Chance looks at me only after I’ve flicked off the lamp next to the bed. In the darkness, it’s hard to make him out, but I’m not sure I’d understand his expression even if I could properly see it.

“Nothing is
wrong
with her.” The way he says it makes it seem like that, in and of itself, is a flaw. “But she’s not going to like me.”

I roll onto my side to face him. “Of course she’ll like you. Why wouldn’t she?”

Chance mirrors my movements and reaches out to toy with a strand of my hair. The gesture is so absent that I think it’s because he can’t stand to stay idle. A restless habit, but I’m enjoying the attention all the same. “Pretty, smart, got her shit together, going places in life. She’ll hate my guts.”

“That’s kind of judgmental, don’t you think?” I sniff indignantly. “I’m smart, pretty, and have my shit together.” Sort of. I have no clue what I’m doing after my year of free time is up. I mean, I had thoughts of going to community college here, maybe taking some photography classes or journalism, and I had hopes of getting a little apartment all my own that Chance could come visit whenever he wanted, but…

His eyebrows shoot up, but at least he smiles, even if only a little. “Not the point.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Just watch, Ash.”

“She’s not that different, you know. She’s smart, but
you’re
smart.” I tap his forehead with one finger. “You know a freakish amount about the most random subjects. She’s pretty, you’re handsome.”

“I don’t have my life together.”

“Sure you do. I mean, you’re getting there. You’ve got a job and a family—us—who love you.” I clarify, because whatever is going on with the family he avoids talking to us about, he has Hunter and Dad and me. We’ll be his family. We always have been.

“So,” I continue, “all that said, name one thing Rachael has that you don’t.”

I half expect him to jokingly say
breasts
or any number of other things. Typical Chance things, because serious subjects aren’t ones he broaches and certainly doesn’t stay on once touched. Chance snakes an arm out beneath the blankets and winds it around my waist, draws me closer until my head is on his shoulder and my heart is in my throat, and he’s so warm and comfortable, and I completely forget what we were talking about until he says—

“She has Hunter.”

Hunter

Rachael puts her bags in the spare room while I linger in the doorway, wanting to inch out, say good night, and flee before anything else can happen. She looks around appraisingly.

“I get the master suite, huh?”

“It used to be Dad’s room.” I scuff my socks against the carpet, staring down at them. “Bathroom’s right across the hall. You know where I am if you need anything.”

She nods, sinking onto the edge of the mattress. But she’s watching me. Waiting.

When did being around my own girlfriend get to be so weird? Things were fine the last time we saw each other. She’d cried a little and kissed me as her parents were preparing to drive her and her things down to Florida. Not that we’ve ever been
normal
by most people’s standards. We aren’t overly affectionate. We haven’t slept together yet, and neither of us is big on public displays of affection beyond holding hands when we go out. And I’m aware it isn’t because I’m not an affectionate guy. I like it when Chance clings to me, whether we’re in public or not. Hell, I don’t mind when my own sister takes my hand or latches her arms around my neck. I don’t care what people think there, but with Rachael… I don’t know what it is.

Now she’s watching me like she expects me to stay. Or to ask her to come back to my room. I like my space, and I’ve already crossed one line with her I didn’t mean to cross.

I give her a smile. “So…good night. Sweet dreams.”

“Hunter?”

Crap.

She rises off the bed, wringing her hands together. The one thing everyone can tell you about Rachael—she’s fucking gorgeous. All that sleek dark hair and big brown eyes. I should consider myself the luckiest guy in the world to have her slipping her arms around my neck and rising up to kiss me. Properly this time. Not like she did in the airport.

It isn’t that difficult to relax, and I’ve missed kissing her. It only takes me a minute to get into it, into the taste of her mouth and the feel of her pressing up against me, inviting in a way she’s never been before. Is it because she missed me, or because of what I said on the phone? If “I love you” was the magic phrase for getting into Rachael Li’s pants, I know a lot of guys who would’ve screamed it from the rooftops.

But something isn’t quite the same as it was a few months ago. It’s a niggling in the back of my mind that is keeping me from completely immersing myself in her. Maybe it’s the insistence with which she kisses me, or maybe it’s the idea that she might want to do this because I said something to her I’m not sure I meant. Or maybe it’s that my sister and best friend are only a few doors down.

Something is clearly wrong with my head. Here I am, making out with a gorgeous girl, possibly being invited to stay the night with her—whatever that might entail—and my brain will. Not. Stop. What is wrong with me?

After a few minutes, she pulls back. Not much, but a little. Just enough to smile against my lips. “I’ve really missed you.”

“I can see that.” My voice comes out hoarser than I mean it to. I could stay here. I could try to shut up my thoughts, but…what happens after? When I wake up in the morning and realize I’m still not in love with her, but I care enough about her to feel insanely guilty about what I’ve done.

Yeah. Not going to happen.

I pull away, looking down to avoid the bewildered crinkle of her brow. “You’ve had a really long day, what with…traveling…and stuff.”
So articulate, Hunter, guh.
“Get some sleep.”

Rachael smiles, but it’s a smile that clearly says she doesn’t understand. Thankfully, it also means she lets me go without further protest. So I can shuffle back to my own room, head down, contemplating a cold shower and reminding myself I’ll survive this visit.

…

After last night, I’m leery about being left alone with Rachael. Which is stupid, really, when I stop to think about it. It’s not like she’s going to drive me to an abandoned parking lot and jump me the second she has the opportunity, but I just…