Page 79 of We Are the Stars

Nate sighs. “Deal.”

Their footsteps fade down the hall. I grab my phone and shoot off a text to Fish.

Me:I’m staying out tonight. If the ’rents ask, let them know.

In typical Fish fashion, he responds with an eggplant emoji.

Trying to relax, I lie on my back first, then my stomach. Finally, I try my side, but no matter what I do, I can’t get comfortable to save my life.

It’s because Carsen isn’t here. Because I’m used to being in his arms here. Because this blanket, this entire damn room smells like him. Smells safe.Feelssafe. This little slice of the universe can’t be contaminated. Not by Jase’s crude words or his asshole friends. Not by Carsen’s near-constant underlying anger. And certainly not by William Wheatley, who is the cause of all this pain.

I reach over and click the remote that can always be found on the bedside table. The room illuminates with the glow of the night sky and peace fills me.

The stars.It always comes back to the stars.

I try to block out the images that are threatening to overtake my mind, but it’s of no use. They slam into me and I can’t help the tremor that runs through my body at the memory of Carsen’s wild eyes. He looked so…fierce, and scared—so fucking scared. It was like he wanted to stop, knew the crunch of Jase’s nose beneath his fists felt wrong, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop hitting him, not until he made him feel the pain he did.

He’ll never feel that, not in the way Carsen does. He lost three people that night.

His mom.

His dad.

Himself.

He’ll never be the same, and that’s okay.

I only wish he’d realize that.

Maybe Faith had it right all along. Maybe it is in the stars, but maybeweare the stars. Though we may last for a long time, we’re not permanent. We go through cycles of birth, maturity, and even death. Like the balls of gas floating around the universe for millions of years, we change.

I think what Faith nor Carsen accounted for is that while a star dies, its matter does not disappear. It forms into a new nebula or moves into an existing one, letting the matter cycle back through to become a star again.

Carsen’s star may have died that night, but its matter did not.

He merely needs to find a new home for it.

---