Page 15 of The Mist of Stars

“What do you know about the dreams of stars?” I inquire, observing his reaction closely.

He angles his head to the side. “What doyouknow about them?”

I wiggle my arm from his grip and cross my arms. “I asked you first.”

He scrubs a hand across his mouth, I think to hide an amused smile. Why he’s amused is beyond me, but whatever.

“I know a little bit about them,” he admits then drags his teeth along his bottom lip. “I’ve had a few.”

“Me, too,” I divulge, causing his brows to rise toward his hairline. “Why’re you so surprised by that?”

“Because they’re rare.”

“You’ve had them.”

“I know, and it’s weird.” He scratches his head while staring out the window. “What have your dreams been about?”

Ugh, why did he have to ask me that?

“Just stuff.”

His gaze dissects me. “What kind of stuff?”

“Just stuff.” As I spot my dad opening the front door to my house, I seize the distraction. “Oh, look, there’s my dad. Let’s go talk to him.” I exit the SUV, close the door, and bolt away from him.

I know Alex follows because I hear a door shut. I refuse to look over my shoulder, though.

“Hey, Dad,” I greet him as he steps out onto the front porch.

He greets me with a puzzled smile. “What’re you two doing out of school?”

I walk up the stairs and stop in front of him. “Well, there was an incident.”

He has a cup of coffee in his hand and is about to take a sip but pauses. “What kind of incident?”

“One that we probably want to talk about inside.” Alex steps up behind me, standing way too close.

My dad glances at him, and the corners of his mouth dip downward. When I peer over my shoulder at Alex, I find him giving my father a stressing look.

Without saying a word, my father nods then walks back into the house. Alex and I do, as well, and Alex shuts the front door behind us.

“What’s going on?” my father asks as he moves over to the sofas and takes a seat on one.

I plop down onto the sofa across from him, and much to my demise, Alex sits beside me, putting no space between us. We’re not quite touching, but the buzz is connecting us in a way that makes my pulse throb. I inch to the side, putting distance between us. Alex’s gaze strays to me, and his lips curve downward, but he doesn’t remark.

“All right, tell me what’s going on,” my father gets straight to the point as he leans forward and places the coffee mug on the coffee table.

Alex and I trade a look.

“Who wants to explain?” Alex reclines back. “You or me?”

I consider this then sink back and prop my boot-clad feet onto the coffee table. “I will.”

I spend the next ten minutes giving my father a recap of what happened today. I even include the information about the dreams of stars. That captures his attention. Alex’s, as well, since I add more details about the story.

“Wait—Henry gave you a book about it?” Alex double-checks, rotating on the sofa to face me.

I nod, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “He stole it from the library. I haven’t gotten a chance to read through all of it, but—crap.” I smack the heel of my hand against my forehead. “I left all of my stuff in class, including the book.”

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