Page 50 of Little Pieces of Light

Xander

The morning light slanted over the bed, over Emery’s golden hair, setting individual strands alight where they spilled over the pillow. We hadn’t moved all night; she was wrapped in my arms, our bodies aligned everywhere, our fingers entwined.

I’d woken that morning thinking I’d had the best dream. That it couldn’t possibly be real. But she was here, in my bed, and last night…I’d had to move slightly so she wouldn’t feel my erection pressing into her backside, but a sobering thought hit me like a cold shower.

I can’t keep her.

Emery had the unwavering—baseless—hope that her father would finally see her for who she was and support her dreams. She pinned everything on her designs winning him over.

Because she still loved him in the same, desperate and futile way that I still loved my mother.

And just like my hope that my mother would return had done nothing but hurt me, I knew Emery’s hope was only going to hurt her in the end.

She needed to go to California or somewhere else, far away from her parents’ toxic brand of love, if she was going to live a life full of the art and joy she wanted. That she deserved.

I shut my eyes and gathered her close to me, burying my face in her hair and inhaling deeply.

Not yet…

Emery sighed contentedly; I hadn’t known she was awake. “Xander?”

“Hm?”

“Is it true we’re made of stardust?”

“Yes.”

“Really? It’s not just something poetic Shakespeare once said?”

“Close. Carl Sagan, and it’s true,” I said, kissing her shoulder. “The atoms that make up our bodies were once part of stars that lived and died billions of years ago.”

“I love that.” She reached her hand into the slant of light.

Dust motes hovered lazily as she wafted her fingers through them, sending them dancing on tiny currents of air.

“I love to think we’re pieces of the huge stars that light up the universe.

They came together to make us, then dissolve away when we die.

But we never wink out for good. We just keep going, our little pieces of light, coming together again and again, forever. ”

I nodded on the pillow we shared, held her tighter, my eyes falling shut at the ache in my heart.

Jesus, I loved this girl, who wasn’t just a collection of particles of light, but an entire star unto herself.

She took the rigid science of my thinking and broke it down to its realest and richest states.

The sense of meaninglessness and loneliness that can come from studying the cosmos like I did—the sense of being an infinitesimal speck in the vastness of space…

Emery somehow alchemized it into a feeling of sheer awe and wonder that I, this little speck, existed at all to love her like I did.

The love I felt for Emery could not be measured or formulated into an equation.

It wasn’t a finite particle but an infinite wave that rippled out into forever, because that’s how long I would love her.

I’d told her last night she made me believe in magic, but Emery Wallace made me believe in infinity too.

I held her tighter. “I don’t want this to end.”

She tensed for a second, then nodded. “Me neither.”

I waited for her to say more. To tell me she’d give up all her plans and come with me to MIT. To forget trying to fix her awful family, forget her dreams, forget the prom even, and just be with me.

Her phone chimed a text. She grabbed it from the nightstand. “It’s Jack. He says my parents are on their way home. I have to go.”

I pulled on my underwear and jeans, and Emery caught sight of my expression.

“Hey.” She stopped, kneeling on my bed, now only in her panties, her hair a tousled mess from having my hands in it. Her lips were swollen from my kisses, and a few spots of blood stained the sheets because I’d been inside her. “I love you.”

Because she believed that was enough to make everything right.

“I love you,” I said, because I wanted to believe that was enough to keep her.

We dressed, and I walked her down to her car, where she put her arms around my neck and kissed me goodbye. I watched her drive away and then sat on the stoop of my empty house, trying to tell my psyche that Emery leaving wasn’t the same. That she’d come back. That we weren’t done.

***

The Academy gym was open, even on a Sunday. There was always some event or competition for one of the elite sports. Far be it for CHA to ever encourage a day of rest.

Such were my bitter thoughts as I climbed onto an ergometer, ready to row myself into a meditative state of pure physical exertion for a few hours before I had to pick up my father from Boston.

No sooner had I sat down on the row machine than a friendly voice hailed me.

“Xander!” Dean exclaimed, coming to clasp hands. “Putting in extra hours for Friday’s regatta? Overkill, don’t you think? You’re already Coach’s favorite.”

I didn’t smile.

Dean pulled a bench over. “Hey. You okay?”

“Not really. What are you doing right now?”

“I was helping Kai on his drive, but he’s done for the day. You want some help?”

I nodded, the need to row growing into an urgency. “I want to push the pace as hard as I can.”

Dean frowned. “Mmkay, but just remember, the big boys in the engine room aren’t going to be as fast as you.”

“Tough shit.”

“Oooh, spicy. All right, let’s work out some of this aggression and then you can tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

The erg was state-of-the-art with air resistance that would increase based on my effort. Dean set the damper to medium resistance to start, but I shook my head.

“Higher.”

“All the way up to eleven, eh? Your funeral.”

He pulled out his digital metronome, and I began to pull to the tick tick tick. But soon I was outpacing it, and Dean had to keep adjusting.

“Xander, take it easy,” he warned, but I ignored him.

I pulled the erg’s handle up to my chest, its coiled wires making a zipping sound with every pull, while my thighs worked to move the sliding seat back and forth.

I pressed my feet into the footrests, driving against them with everything I had.

Within minutes, my shoulders, abs, and quads were screaming, my lungs aching and throat raw.

Dean stopped trying to slow me down and watched, wide-eyed, increasing his metronome.

Tickticktick…

Sweat stung my eyes, and I grunted with every pull.

“How long?” Dean asked.

“Fifteen,” I managed.

“Dude, no .”

Fifteen minutes, the length of an elite five thousand meter.

I wanted to test my endurance, build stamina for my crew, but mostly I needed the adrenaline and endorphins to shove every hard thought out of my system.

I made it to eight minutes at the most punishing pace I’d ever attempted, and then my stomach seized.

I let the handle go with a snap and staggered off the erg to vomit into a dirty towel bin. I heaved until there was nothing left, gasping for breath, and then Dean was there with a clean towel and a bottle of water. He guided me back to the erg to sit and straddled the bench beside me.

“Welp, you’re not going to make any friends with the custodial staff,” Dean said while I sucked in huge drafts of air and then chugged half the bottle of water. He waited until I’d caught my breath. “Better? Okay, now you want to tell me what’s really going on?”

“I told Emery I loved her and spent the night with her, and it was fucking perfect.”

Dean sputtered a nervous chuckle. “How is that a bad thing? Did she not say it back?”

“She did.”

He glanced around. “Am I being pranked? You’re sleeping with Emery Wallace, the most beautiful girl in school and quite possibly the tristate area, and she told you she loves you.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Hm, yes, I can see how that’d be rough.”

I put the towel over my head. “I’m fucked, Dean.”

“Why?” I felt his hand on my shoulder. “I’m here, man.”

With a sigh, I stripped off the towel and told him the whole story, including my offer to marry Emery should she need the complete divestiture from her family. Dean’s eyes widened and then he gave a low whistle.

“So that…is a lot.” He frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You can’t bother me, I’m your friend, remember? I want to hear all this shit. I can’t promise I have good advice, but I can try.”

“I’ll take anything.”

“Well, for starters, you need to stop thinking so much. I know that’s your thing, but have you considered Occam’s razor? The simplest solution is usually the best.”

“Which is?”

“You move to California with her.” He cocked his head at my expression. “You never considered it?”

“Not seriously,” I said. “I’ve been locked on going to MIT, finishing my father’s work, and keeping him close to the house that he loved. I need to put him in a home somewhere he recognizes. To give him something to hold on to.”

“Because you’re a good son, Xander,” Dean said.

“But you’re also a good guy for Emery. Maybe you don’t have to sacrifice one for the other.

Just ask your dad what he thinks. Tell him everything.

” He gave me a wry smile at my dubious expression.

“You’re in your head a lot, my friend. Put what’s in your heart out into the world and see what happens.

Maybe Dr. Ford would love nothing better than to get the hell out of dodge and live his golden years sipping pina coladas by a pool in Pasadena. Ha. Say that five times fast…”

I sniffed a laugh. “I don’t think he wants that.”

“You never know unless you ask.”

“I suppose.” I smiled gratefully. “I feel stupid.”

Dean chuckled. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Not for the first time. I’m pretty terrible at thinking outside of my usual systems.”

“You’re getting better. The number of people who love you has increased exponentially with the addition of Miss Wallace.” He chucked my shoulder. “I’d say you’re doing all right.”

I pulled my aching body off the erg and gave Dean a hug. “Thank you.”

“I aim to please,” he said, clapping my back. “You’re coming to Orion’s party on Friday night, right? After we destroy all foes at the regatta?”

“I thought you said Atlas Hall wasn’t your scene.”

“This crew has never been better. I’ll make an exception if we go 2–0. Just don’t bust a gut and puke all over me after the race. As cox, I’m right in the splash zone.”

I laughed. “No promises.”

We parted ways, and I showered, changed, then started the long drive to Boston.

The euphoria I’d had with Emery the night before began to reappear as I coasted down the highway.

Maybe I’d been too rigid in my thinking.

Maybe Dad would love a change of scenery, away from painful memories of Mom and her abandonment.

But at the neurology ward, the specialist gave me a grim prognosis: Dad’s dementia was progressing rapidly.

“A few weeks at best,” Dr. Woodley said, “before he’ll need more care than you can give him.”

Before he forgets who I am.

He gave me the information for a memory care home in the city, close to MIT, and a new prescription. Dad had more pills now to crowd his medicine cabinet, but none were strong enough to keep his brilliant mind intact. In the car, he was quiet, his gaze on the passing scenery.

I cleared my throat. “Did they tell you what comes next?”

“Yes, son.” He smiled thinly, his eyes clear. For now. “It won’t be too much longer now.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, my heart aching. “You never know—”

“I know. Time is running out. And I’m so close to my theory. So close. I just need a little more time.” He whipped his head to me in a sudden panic. “Don’t put me away yet, Xander. Please. Not yet. I just need a few more weeks, and I’ll have it.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I won’t, I promise. But…what do you think about leaving New England?”

“When? What for?”

“When it comes time for you to have more help.”

I kept my eyes on the road, but from my periphery, he was shaking his head.

“No, I…I can’t leave. And our house…that’s for you. Our family home. Why?” he demanded suddenly. “What are they telling you? Where am I supposed to go?”

“Nothing, Dad,” I said quickly. “It’s okay. I was just thinking out loud.”

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head and running his fingers through his unkempt hair. “I can’t. I have to stay close. I have to—”

“Okay,” I said soothingly, my heart sinking. “There’s a place near MIT for…later. Is that what you want?”

He nodded. “Yes, yes. I can’t leave the vicinity, lest she be unable to find me.”

“Who?” I asked, a heavy feeling in my gut.

“Your mother,” he said.

Fuck.

“I have to stick close. Otherwise, how will she know it’s okay to come back?”

“I don’t know, Dad,” I said. “I don’t know.”