Page 45

Emberly

Then

Faint chuckles reach from the living room to the base of the stairwell. “Not yet, sweetie. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“Uhh,” I groan. “He’s going to miss it if one cloud shifts out of place.” I cross my arms over my chest and pout.

“Relax, Em. You know he always. . .” Before my Dad can finish his sentence, our entryway door busts open, hitting the wall with a loud thud.

My eyes catch my best friend in his signature Nike shoes as they squeak against the freshly mopped marble floors.

He runs his hand through his sweaty, chocolate brown hair and adjusts his glasses on his face.

Short of breath, he gasps out, “Let’s go!”

I wave for him to follow me up the stairs and back out to the balcony.

“I was worried you would miss it.” I stick my left eye into the telescope lens once more to make sure the clouds didn’t cover the crystal clear constellation while I was downstairs.

I step back, creaking the wooden balcony pointing to the lens, to give him the go ahead to check it out.

He bends down to meet the height of the telescope, pre-set for myself. “Woah,” he whispers, adjusting the focus to match his eyesight precisely. “This is incredible.”

“Told you.” I smirk and pull my wet hair to one side to comb my fingers through it, detangling the small knots the brush didn’t work out.

He steps back from the telescope and walks to the weatherproof box we keep out here for nights like this. Unclasping the fake lock, he reaches in to grab the inflatable mattress, pillows, and blankets. “Clear skies call for a camp out.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” I help Mason flatten out the double tiered air mattress and straighten out any kinks as he blows it up.

“Let me grab the sheet.” I run inside my bedroom to grab a white fitted sheet from my humongous walk in closet.

I’m not into fancy outfits, but I’ve managed to fill my closet space to the brim with enough blankets and sheets for every occasion.

Stopping at my bedside table, I plug my phone into the charger for the night, skipping the alarm because we’re in the middle of summer break.

I slide the balcony door open to the sight of Mason with his hands on his hips and a crooked smile plastered across his face.

“It’s all yours.” He ruffles his hand through his hair and slides off his expensive shoes.

“I’m going to take a quick shower.” He scurries inside, leaving me to make our camp for the night.

I tuck the fitted sheet on all four corners of the bed, fluff the pillows we’ve used since we were kids, and spread out both of our blankets.

Mine is dark blue with yellow script reading, Pluto is a planet.

His is decorated with mini astronauts scattered across the worn red material.

I tuck myself in comfortably, and lose myself in the sight of the stars.

Twinkles glisten against the dark night sky.

We live in a neighborhood, but the houses are so spread out, you aren’t able to see any lights.

That’s the perks of having a former NFL quarterback as your Dad.

“Done!” Mason barrels out the bedroom and hops over me, tumbling onto his side of the mattress. “Time?” Flipping my wrist to check the time, I shake my head and giggle.

“Seven minutes. Did you even wash your armpits?” I hold my hand over my nose, pretending that he stinks.

“Oh really? That’s how you’re going to play this? Find out for yourself.” Lifting his arm up, he shoves himself at me, causing my body to curl into a ball twisted in my blanket.

I’m laughing so hard, I can barely breathe. “Stop!” I shove him off me, and he returns to his side, stretching his arms in the air and letting out an audible yawn.

“How was your workout?” We both pay flat on our backs and stare into the stars.

“Hard.” He cracks his neck on both sides. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this, Em.”

“I’m going to zip my lips.” I pretend to zipper my mouth and throw away the key.

“I know. I know. It just feels like what I’m supposed to do. It would suck to give up on it now. We’re going to be seniors.”

Mason’s Dad was an NFL legend like mine.

They were drafted together and played for the same team for their whole career, but they couldn’t be anymore opposite.

While my Dad is humble and doesn’t like spending or flashing his money around, Mason’s Dad lives for the finer things in life.

He’s always in designer clothes and has a mansion fit for a king.

When our parents had us, Mason and I became instant best friends.

We were raised together. Every memory worth having has Mason in it. “Your Dad wants you to be happy.”

“Maybe, but if this is my last year of football, I want to go out on top.” He braces his hands together over his chest and squeezes.

“Can you believe we’re going to be seniors in a month?” I blink a few times, digesting the reality of entering our last year of high school.

“No,” he says. “Have you thought about all those acceptance letters you’ve been filtering through?”

I shake my head and purse my lips. “I haven’t opened them. I’m scared.”

“Me too,” he admits.

“We’re doing this together.” Mason and I made a pact to go to the same college our freshman year of high school. Not many people understand the nuances of living the NFL childhood like the two of us, and I couldn’t imagine tackling college without my best friend.

“Promise you won’t change your mind and ditch me for one of those fancy space engineering schools?” He jokes, but his tone allows insecurities to pass through.

Sticking my pinky to the stars, I promise. “Not a chance, Mase.”

His pinky links with mine as we twist together, throw our promise to the universe like we always do, and slowly drift into sleep underneath the illumination of the solar system.