Page 111 of With Stars in Her Eyes
Jeannie considered me. “Does being with Thea remind you of Jeremiah?”
“No.” My eyes snapped to hers. “Why would you askthat?”
“Because the last time I heard you say you were worried about turning into your parents and wanted to give up your music because of that, it was when you left him.”
I was lucky there was a bench nearby because I practically flopped onto it. “Oh.”
“Stay here for a minute.” Jeannie patted my shoulder.
Several minutes later, Jeannie sat beside me and passed me a coffee. “How did that asshole’s words get all up in your brain again? It’s been years, hasn’t it?”
I shrugged and warmed my hands on the cup. It was warm out, so I didn’t know why my fingers suddenly felt so chilly.
Had some small part of me been punishing myself by not playing all those months? Had I been trying toproveto myself that I could stop playing if I needed to? I could help Sam. I could live a normal life here and give up my career to protect Demetrius’s chance at getting the awards he deserved. The funny thing was that I had almost never been just “Courtney Starling.” I had been Dove then Kestrel. Courtney Starling felt like a stranger.
Thea knew me. She knew Courtney Starling. The real Courtney Starling who had finally cut off all her hair like she had been wanting to for years. Courtney Starling who felt the most herself in pants and T-shirts and finding that elusive balance between touches of femininity and the level of androgyny that usually felt most right. Thea never teased me for not smiling more or cared when I was quiet.
But I hadn’t known how to be both Courtney and Kestrel at the same time. The more I thought about it, the more intentional all the omissions felt. The longer I spent in Kansas the clearer it became that Kestrel was another costume. It had been another way to split the parts of who I was and hide the ones that didn’t seem to fit onstage.
“Courtney?” Jeannie’s voice was gentler than usual.
I sucked in a small sip of coffee. “I think somehow I fell for a person who knows the real me better than anyone, but now she’s pissed at me because she didn’t know who I really was.”
Jeannie exhaled with a sympathetic shake of the head. “That’s quite the ironic pickle now, isn’t it?”
My brain hurt. How could I explain any of this to Thea?
Jeannie elbowed my ribs.
I followed the wisps of steam curling from my coffee.
She nudged me again.
I looked up at her.
“Hey.”
It wasn’t Jeannie who had spoken.
My reaction to the unexpected closeness of Thea’s voice could best be described as an overcaffeinated squirrel that had darted into traffic and then couldn’t figure out how and if it should flee. This was going great.
Sam and Thea stood in front of me, both of their expressions unreadable.
“So glad we found you. Ms. Jeannie, there’s an issue with a few of your plants back at the brewery,” Sam said with as much subtlety as a charging rhinoceros in a window warehouse.
Seeming satisfied to play along, Jeannie allowed Sam to lead her away.
Thea remained unfazed through this mortifying exchange, although a whisper of amusement tugged on the deepest of her dimples. She took Jeannie’s place on the bench beside me. “Can we talk? If you’re too busy, I—”
“No.” The question was so frank and open and mature sounding that it caught me off guard. “I mean, no I’m not too busy. Of course. I’d love to talk. I wanted to talk too.” Sam and Jeannie had stopped at the other end of the block. Sam noticed my attention and mimed gestures that either indicated something very pornographic or blowing out birthday candles.
When Thea turned to see what I was looking at, she found Sam innocently tapping on her phone. “What were you—”
“Uh… a bird was acting weird in the reflection of the glass. It’s gone now.” I cleared my throat.
Thea’s eyebrows pulled together for a moment. “How long until the fair starts? I think my phone’s in my car, and I have no idea what time it is.”
I checked my phone. “Fifteen minutes-ish?”
