Page 74 of To Catch a Firefly

I pull out my phone, sifting through my recent pictures of Lucky. I decide on one where he’s holding up a massive blue crab. His eyes are comically wide as he peers around the crustacean, and I can practically hear the laughter bubbling up from his throat. Lucky sent me the picture while he was in Belize.

I show Gabby. “That’s Luck. Lucky.”

Her mouth opens before her eyes meet mine. “Oh, wow. He’s just beautiful, isn’t he?”

Yeah.Always has been.

Gabby leans back in her seat, sighing. “So, you said you love him, but what’s the deal? Are you two dating? Boyfriends? Friends?”

I slip my phone back in my pocket, my eyes darting toward the front of the house. Lucky is long gone now, but the phantom of him remains. The touch of his lips. The texture of his hair between my fingertips. The words he spoke so quietly against my chest.“This is real, El. Me and you, it’s real.”

We’re friends, yes. Always. But we’re more than that, too. Lucky is…

He’s myeverything.

Chapter 26

Lucky

“You okay?” Danil asks, his breath puffing out in front of his face.

I nod, even though it feels like my fingers are about to fall off.

Danil hands me two new instant heat packs. I thank him, squeezing the small packets to activate them before slipping them inside my gloves. I ditch the old ones in the process.

“It’s a much better night tonight,” our guide tells us. “We should see activity soon.”

I sure hope so. Otherwise, we’ll be heading back empty-handed.

Danil huddles inside his big, puffy coat that looks like a small down comforter. His hands are tucked away in his pockets, whereas mine are out in the cold, holding my camera at the ready. Our tour guide, Pierce, told me I’d have plenty of time to snap pictures once the show starts, but I don’t want to miss athing. The past two nights were too overcast to see the sky, which means this is our last chance before we return inland.

My track record at the magazine is impeccable, and I’d hate to fail this assignment. If only the weather would cooperate.

Our camp sits behind us as we wait, domed tents lit golden from the lamps inside. Pierce’s Alaskan Malamute barks once before settling, making a bed on the cold, hard ground. In front of us stretches water that looks crystalline blue in the sunshine, but now, at just after midnight, it sits dark, like a sheet of black ice. Further still is the Qaleraliq Glacier, a wide expanse of snow and frozen, craggy ground. We hiked along it earlier today, but right now, we’re still.

It’s early in the season for this, but so long as the night is clear…

“There,” Pierce says, pointing off into the distance.

A green light snakes through the sky, there and gone again so fast I barely see it. I hold my breath, waiting for it to return. It does, a whip of light cutting through the star-dotted black. It shifts, shimmers, dancing through the sky like a living thing. A ballet. The light twists, green bleeding with pink and yellow, moving so quickly I can hardly keep up. It’s so bright, sovivid, the colors stretching through the sky as if they’re reaching for the Heavens.

“Did you ever think you’d see the Northern Lights in person?” Danil asks from beside me, his voice quiet.

I shake my head, unable to look away.

“Pictures, Lucky-boy,” he reminds me with a chuckle, nudging my arm.

Right.

I hop to, catching the lights within my camera. I no longer feel the cold in my fingers as we watch the Aurora Borealis play out atop the glacier’s peak. It’s stunning, so much more beautiful in person than pictures could ever properly convey. But I try mybest to do justice to the phenomenon, storing the green and pink and glimmer of starlight away behind my lens.

It’s nearly three a.m. when we retire to our tents, the light show having dissipated. My fingers itch to call Ellis, but I can’t. There’s no service this far away from civilization. Instead, I curl inside my sleeping bag, a few heat packs keeping me company and a soft smile on my face, and I count down the minutes until I can hear his voice again.

“Even though that was worth freezing my balls off for, I’m glad to be back in the land of central heating,” Danil says.

I huff a laugh, tugging off my boots as Danil sprawls onto his bed in the hostel we’re staying at. We have another four days before we leave Greenland, but our camping at Qaleraliq Glacier is done. Danil will be heading back to NYC after this, whereas my plane will take me to Nebraska.

My stomach skips as I think about heading home to Ellis.

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