Page 44 of With Stars in Her Eyes

Courtney

A little while later Thea and I lay mostly naked on the grassy ground in my backyard.

I should probably feel very grateful for the tall fence shielding us from the prying eyes of my neighbors.

But I couldn’t make myself care about anything in the present, really.

I was remembering things. I was feeling things.

The last twenty-four hours hadn’t been a dream even though they felt like one. The experience had been enough to make up my mind on what to do. I didn’t want to lose this. I could be happy here with Thea. At least, I wanted to give it a shot.

If I did the tour, I would have to pack up and leave Thea behind.

If my divorce had taught me anything it was that prioritizing the wrong things could permanently fuck up my life.

Leaving somewhere had never felt this impossible before.

I had literally never understood why anyone would ever do something as ill-advised as U-Hauling until this exact moment.

Before we had ended up naked outside, I had known what I wanted. I charged my phone enough so it would turn on and sent Demetrius a long text message explaining that my answer had to be no. Then I switched the phone back off again.

There weren’t as many stars visible as there had been in the Flint Hills, but I counted hundreds before my focus shifted back to earth. “When I’m with you… I feel like I do when I’m onstage performing.”

Thea’s palm slid against my forearm. “Is that a good thing?”

“You make everything glow, Thea. You’re like the old light bulbs.”

“The old light bulbs?” Thea laughed.

“You’re… God , words are weird right now. But you’re… I think you’re incandescent.” I paused. “But not incandescent like a light bulb.”

“I’m not?” Thea’s eyes widened.

“No.” I counted the freckles on her shoulders as I had been counting the specks of light in the sky. “You’re incandescent like a star.”

The line should have felt corny or silly, but it didn’t. The soft declaration hovered in the air between us. It felt chemical and electric, something that could be measured in a lab if only we had the right tools.

Companionable silence fell between us again.

Time passed in a sea of colors and memories. Tiny realizations skittered through my consciousness, the kind that were more impressions than thoughts.

“Courtney Starling?”

“Yes, Thea Quinn.”

“If I tell you something crazy, will you promise not to laugh?”

“Promise.”

The memories of everything after what Thea said were even hazier. But I didn’t laugh.