Page 14 of Yours to Lose
“What are you doing out here anyway?” I mutter. “Don’t you have babies to watch or something?”
She holds up her phone, and for the first time I see the baby monitor on the screen, the picture showing two sleeping babies in matching side-by-side bassinets. “My little besties went down like champions. I’m the world’s greatest aunt and an absolutely stellar babysitter.”
“You know they’ll probably be up again in like an hour, right? They’re a month old.” The words just slip out. Evidently my hatred of small talk is escaping me at the moment.
Jo just shrugs, grinning at the screen. “More cuddle time for me. There is nothing better than baby cuddles. I swear, if I didn’t have to work, I would just hang here and hold babies all day. It’s the best. Anyway, you should really lay down and look up. The stars are amazing right now.”
Without any real reason not to, I do what she says and lay flat on my back, staring up at the sky. She’s right, it really is amazing.
“There’s Orion’s Belt.” Jo points up to a cluster of stars that is definitely not Orion’s Belt. “And there’s Pegasus, and Ursa Major, and oh! Gemini! That’s my favorite because, obviously.” She beams over at me.
When I look at her with nothing but confusion, she gives me aduhlook. “Because I’m a Gemini, Jordan. May twenty-second. Although I probably don’t have to tell you that. I usually don’t have to tell anyone my horoscope. I’m like the most Gemini to ever Gemini.”
She rolls her head back up to face the sky and points again. “There’s the Little Dipper. I think most people love the Big Dipper the best because it’s the easiest to find, but I’ve always liked the Little Dipper. I think it’s the youngest sister in me.”
I can’t decide if I’m overwhelmed because I’m not used to talking to people or if Jo is, in fact, the most outgoing human on the planet. “You know you haven’t gotten any of those constellations right, right?”
She scoffs. “What are you talking about? Of course I did.”
In lieu of answering her, I point up at the sky. “Orion’s Belt.” Then I slide my finger across pointing out each constellation in its appropriate place. “Pegasus. Ursa Major. Little Dipper.”
She screws up her face as she follows my finger. “I think you’re wrong.”
“I’m not.”
“How do you know?”
“Astronomy class in college.”
She turns her head, narrowing her eyes at me. “College was a long time ago. You’re, like, kind of old. Maybe you forgot.”
I glance back up at the sky, wincing a little atkind of oldbecause it’s uncomfortably close to Jeremy’s comment this morning about me being one of the old guys yelling at people to get off his lawn. “I don’t forget anything. Besides, you’re not that much younger.”
“Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight next month. Gemini, remember?” She’s right; she’s not that much younger, but right now, those six-ish years feel like a century. I’ve lived ten lifetimes in the last two years.
“So where is it, anyway?”
“Where’s what?” I respond, rolling my head back to her, but her eyes are fixed back on the stars.
“Gemini. It’s the only one you didn’t point out.”
“Up there.” I point up and see her follow my finger, her face screwing up in concentration. “It’s those two bright stars next to each other. They’re named Castor and Pollux, and they form the heads of the Gemini twins. If you follow the stars down from there, the constellation looks like two stick figures holding hands. It’s harder to see the whole thing without a telescope.”
Jo lifts up an arm to point at the sky, muttering to herself a little as she tries to locate the stars I’m pointing out. I raise my arm, nudging hers a little so she’s pointing in the right place. “Castor. Pollux.” My hand brushes hers, and the contact sends a jolt down my arm. Dropping my arm like I’ve been burned, I sit up quickly, clenching my jaw. Because what the fuck?
“Want a Fireball?”
“A what?” I don’t mean to snap but I do. Jo is unphased though. She seems unphased by whatever just happened when we touched, too. Maybe she didn’t feel it. She sits up and digs something out of her pocket, handing it to me.
“A Fireball. You’re clenching your teeth so hard I’m shocked your molars aren’t dust. I figured if you’re going to break your jaw, better to do it with candy than with whatever’s going on in your head right now.”
I stare down at the bright red, cellophane wrapped jawbreaker. “It’s cinnamon.”
“Uh, yeah it is. Only the best cinnamon candy on the planet. Have you never had a Fireball before?”
“I have just…not for a while.”
Two years. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve had a Fireball. Fireballs were Allie’s favorite. Anything cinnamon really. Mine too, but I got out of the habit of eating them after she died for no reason other than I stopped doing a lot of things we used to do together.
