Page 65 of My Star-Crossed Summer

A few weeks ago, I would have argued that I was better suited for one of her indoor positions. Now I’m not so sure.

I’m not certain about a lot of things anymore. And maybe that’s just fine. Maybe I don’t have to have everything figured out all the time, despite what that negative voice in my head tells me. Maybe it’s time I let go of my lofty expectations and give myself some grace.

We’re sitting on the patio by the cafeteria, where the kids are finishing lunch. So far I’ve managed to avoid Noah since after breakfast, when Roxy arrived with her assistant Julie and thedonor, Mira. Soon they’ll tour the facilities and see how the fancy telescopes work, but right now they’re inside chatting with some students.

“Mira seems cool,” I say. She’s got a smile that makes you feel right at home and shakes hands like she’s meeting her new best friend. Her mostly gray hair is cut into a sleek bob and she has little creases at her eyes that come from years of laugher. Plus, she paired a button-up blouse and tailored pants with bright magenta sneakers—and that made me like her instantly.

“She’s great,” Roxy says. “She’s a retired surgeon and has a soft spot for space camps because her late husband worked for NASA. She’s a major donor for the university—has a dorm named after her.” She sips her coffee and waves toward Julie and Mira. “She’s taken an interest in us, and her donation could fund our camps for a decade—and allow for expansion to some other remote sites and hiring more staff.”

“Wow,” I breathe. “Now I regret telling her that goofy joke earlier. She’s even more VIP than I suspected.”

“Are you kidding?” Roxy says. “She loves a good space pun. She told me you were a delight.”

Inside, Noah and Sophie are doing their post-lunch announcements, the signal for all campers to head for their classrooms.

“Time for the grand tour,” Roxy says, checking the time. “I’ll catch up with you in a little while.”

“Great,” I tell her. “Have fun.”

“This is one of my favorite parts of the job,” she says. “I love showing people how awesome our staff is and letting them meet happy students. And the fact that you’re here makes it that much better.”

“Thanks for bringing me on board,” I tell her.

“Hey, you’re the one that bailed me out,” she says, slipping her sunglasses back on. “Your being here means less college-staff drama, and that, my friend, is priceless.”

I swallow hard, hating that I haven’t been entirely truthful with her about Noah. I don’t know if telling her would make things better or worse, but I hate that this secret is hanging between us.

We are icebergs.I have to keep reminding myself of our agreement because, of course, I can’t avoid Noah completely.

Roxy, Julie, and Mira have been here for three hours and forty-seven minutes, and even though they’ve been all over the site and have only spent approximately thirty-three minutes talking to me, I still feel like they’re scrutinizing my every move, looking for any evidence that I’m doing something inappropriate with Noah. Or that I don’t belong here.

I’m not sure which is worse.

“Did you hear me?” Noah says. “Vic?”

He’s standing near the top of the ladder and once again, he’s caught me staring. I swear I only meant to spot him (safety first!), but as he reached toward the ceiling to tape the extension cord into place, my eyes snagged on the thin strip of tan skin at his lower back that was exposed right above his belt. The way those jeans are clinging to his muscular body is criminal. My hand is gripping the leg of the ladder with far more force than necessary.

He looks down the ladder at me and a lock of dark hair falls in his eyes. “You okay down there?”

“Yep,” I sputter. “All good.” I hand him the two-foot wide paper star and he secures it into place on the tiny hook in the ceiling.

“Sophie went all out with the space theme,” I say.

“Decorating is one of her superpowers,” he says, adjusting the star so it’s just right.

“Look at us, getting these stars aligned.” It’s a lame attempt at levity, and it falls completely flat.

“Yeah,” Noah says. “If only everything could be fixed with tape and power cords.” His tone is cool and professional, just as it’s been ever since we talked yesterday. Even though he’s doing just as I suggested, it feels like he’s freezing me out.

I hate that feeling.

He climbs down the ladder and his hand brushes over mine as it slides down the rail. He ignores this touch completely, but the heat from his hand sizzles along my skin, his fingers leaving a path of sparks in their wake.

His face reveals nothing, as still as the moon.

This is agony. I want my fun, teasing Noah back. I want all of his warmth and charm, all of his hopeful glances and secret smiles.

“Listen,” I blurt. “About yesterday.”

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