All the Stars Align, page 5
“It could feel the same.”
“How would you know?”
“How would you?” he counters.
I work hard to not roll my eyes. Despite how many people Leo’s dated, I’ve never seen him heartbroken. But also, I’ve never seen him look like my parents do now—like they’ve lost something essential and are always looking for it. Anticipating needs for someone who’s now just a ghost in their life.
“Because I am blessed to know. The tightness in your chest, the feeling of the last piece snapping into place. The way the—”
“World is now complete,” Leo finishes for me. We’ve arrived at the door to the house, but we don’t ring the bell, and no one appears to let us in. We’re just standing there facing each other, caught in this endless battle. Normally it’s all in good fun, Leo ribbing me about waiting for true love, and me questioning if he can really find so many variations on love.
“There’s no guesswork for me,” I say, trying to be light, to lure him out of this mood.
“But that’s the best part.” That cracks him open again. He shakes his head, golden-brown hair flopping in his eyes. He’s so disappointed in me.
“It would be a waste, and I don’t waste people’s time. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I will always worry about you, Piper.” His words are a bump in the road, grabbing my attention.
“I’m glad you texted,” I respond in a teasing tone. This is where Leo and I live best. Our jokes and pockets of levity. “Now let’s go have a good night.” I throw my hands up, trying to prove that I am as ready for a good time as he is. I just want to forget about my parents, the weight of Aunt Helena’s expectation, and the possibility that the Blessing is broken.
Chapter Five
I don’t mind playing Leo’s shadow for the evening, following him from friend group to friend group. At every point he tries to include me, and I eagerly scan the faces of people I don’t know, hoping that I’ll feel something. But mostly I’m just forced to share my opinions when Leo asks for them or answer a question from his friends in an effort on their part to make me feel like I’m included, but no one notices when I fade from the conversation.
And still I would rather be here than at home with Dad, trying to figure out something to say. Here at least I’m not expected to say anything.
My gaze wanders around the room, a force of habit—skipping over people I recognize and resting on those new to me. Just waiting, hoping to feel that special pull that lets me know I’ve found my person. Boys. Girls. Each new face studied with the hope that this could be my true love.
Mom likes to remind me that there are more places to find love than just this chunk of California. Her work has taken her all over, and I get the feeling that she wants me to follow this new path she’s finding. To not wait for Fate to bring someone to me. Given the aunts’ and Mom’s stories, there’s a fifty-fifty shot of me finding true love in Crescent Falls.
“Piper.” Leo’s voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back. There’s a bite to my name when he says it, a hidden displeasure that I’m not focusing on the group or what he’s doing for me.
A twinge of regret kicks me in my solo kidney. Right. Leo is the one doing me a favor tonight. The least I could do is pay attention, be present for him and his friends.
“Sorry,” I say, but no one seems to care, except Leo. He’s focused on me, his hazel gaze communicating his frustration with hints of exasperation at my absentmindedness. Do you even want my help? his eyes seem to say. My heart flutters at how easy it is to fall back into this form of communication. Even if he’s annoyed with me.
Tuning back in, I try to find the thread of the current conversation. I quickly discover these are his marching band friends and the topic is entirely above my head. Drill sheets and beats—words that have different meanings to ordinary people like me. I nod along, trying to play the part of attentive, interested friend. Leo genuinely likes all the activities he does, and his list seems to grow longer each year. Always searching, never settling. And me, well—much like my friend group, I prefer my activities to be of a manageable quantity.
And I’ve lost the thread of the conversation again. I just cannot bring myself to care about this.
“Piper’s helping to plan our senior trip,” Leo says, and all the eyes focus on me. Leo just smiles and raises an eyebrow at me. I did this to myself. I tapped out and he made sure to pull me back in.
Everyone wants to know what the plan is for the weekend getaway. How both Crescent Falls High School West and East are joining forces for once. I don’t mention that it’s more like Lauren is taking over the East Side StuCo because of course she is. They didn’t have a plan, or at least not one that could compete with Lauren’s vision. At our last joint meeting, she basically handed them a checklist and sent them on their way.
While I’m stuck answering questions, Leo slips out of the group, pulled to another. He gives me a thumbs-up as he goes. Oh, he knows what he’s doing, forcing me to be sociable, which is maybe what I wanted. No, what I wanted was to see my friend again, to get out of my house. Now I’ve been abandoned by said friend in a den of hostiles.
Okay, maybe that’s a slight hyperbole.
“Are there even enough cabins for us all?” a girl asks, adjusting her glasses. Everyone seems to perk up at this. We’ve all been to Camp Redwood, and there is a hierarchy of sleeping arrangements—you either get a cabin or a tent, and trust me, you want the cabin.
“Sleeping quarters are—” I start my explanation, looking around for any sort of exit. I did not come here for an impromptu StuCo meeting. My eye catches on someone across the room and there’s a tug right below my sternum. It’s a fast assessment, my mind attuned to changes in my body, ready to react to something new and potentially dangerous to me.
The group shifts and the boy is blocked from view, but I still feel the tug, the nascent invisible string connecting us. I get up from my chair, my palms slick with sweat, breath catching in my lungs.
“They are…” the girl prompts. I ignore her, walking away, following the pull in my chest. It couldn’t be—could it?
I weave through the crowd, chasing the feeling. Catching bits and pieces of him, a profile. I’m uncertain what I will say to him when I find him, knowing only that I have to try. I have to know—is he my person?
He turns and the crowd shifts again, allowing my first full look at him. His black hair is cut short and styled so that it sticks out in swoops as if it’s meant to be a mess. He’s relaxed with his friend, laughs easy when one of them cracks a joke, his head tipping back.
And it’s like a snap, a string tied quickly around my heart, Fate finally here to reel me in. He’s tall, possibly taller than Leo. But it’s his eyes that stand out against his tanned skin—a brilliant bright blue. Like the summer sky, clear and full of promise.
A winding up. A focusing in.
A door in my heart closed because I know that this … is my person.
He cocks his head, the shape of his face outlined by the light behind him. He runs a hand through his black hair, seeming to search for something to do, to say. I wish for perhaps the first time ever that I’d paid attention to all the times Leo tried to make me more sociable. I inch closer to the group and catch pieces of their conversation.
“… played on top of…”
“… added tools…”
“The cards—”
And I know what they’re talking about. By now, I’m so close to the group it’s easy to join in to add my thoughts.
“Hi,” I say and it’s a relief. A pressure release from the tension and excitement. The Hadley Family Blessing has not skipped me. I’m grinning like a fool, and all I want is to channel Leo—he would know what to do in this situation. How to turn on that charm to win the heart of anyone he wants.
“Hi,” one of the boys standing by my person says. This Not-My-Person is cold and disgruntled, angry that I’ve dared to move into his group. I take the opening and join them, angling myself as close to my person as I can get. NMP seems to take my presence as a personal affront and moves away, leaving me next to my person.
“Right, but if you can’t play that card on top…” I say, jumping into the Starbound conversation I’m pretty sure they’re having. It’s a card game Leo and I used to play, not that either of us have touched a deck in years. Still, the rules, tips, and tricks are all lodged in my brain. “It would be better to use an accessory card, preferably with a…” My voice trails off because everyone in the group is staring at me. And not in a good way. Also not in the way that I’m used to people staring at me—the I’m trying to figure out how your body ended up like that stare. It’s quite common among new people I meet. Unintentional, probably.
No. These boys stare at me like I’ve just explained rocket science in baby talk. They don’t know whether to take me seriously or if I’m playing some practical joke.
“What are you even talking about?” NMP asks.
The group laughs, taking NMP’s lead. I wish Leo was here to smooth over my mistakes, to give me clues on what to do next to fix this.
I don’t even want to look at my person as shame burns hot in my stomach. But I do. I can’t help myself. A corner of his mouth tips up. Where his friends are ready to write me off, my person’s intrigued. Head inclined toward me, he stares at me as if he’s trying to figure out how we know each other. The group seems to fall away.
Somehow I manage to say “This isn’t about Starbound, is it…” I already know the answer. There’s another flurry of laughter, and even one snort. I’m reminded that Leo and I haven’t played Starbound since … what, eighth grade?
I turn too fast, preparing to run away, to hide, and there’s a sharp tug in my chest. Fate just telling me to stay there, to keep going. Scientifically, I know that matter can’t be created or destroyed, but I’m not sure we’ve tested the limits of embarrassment on the human body, because right now, I’m pretty sure my cells could break down and dissolve into nothingness.
My person—whether pulled by Fate or his own sense of chivalry—reaches out to stop me. I’d like to think it’s Fate that he, too, feels this possibility growing between us. We collide. My cup squishes between us, liquid splashing down my front.
I look up into the blue eyes belonging to my person.
And this just got worse.
We’re suspended there for just a moment, chest to chest, beer seeping through both our shirts. It’s like I can tell when he knows something has shifted. Lines crease his forehead like he’s trying to nail down this feeling. I want to reach out, smooth them away, tell him this is normal—well, for my family at least. It’s us. This is our beginning.
Then as time picks up again, we’re pulled apart.
Before I can apologize or say anything, his friends fold in around him, cutting me out. Panic sets in because I messed this up, didn’t react fast enough or in the right way, didn’t say something witty.
My shirt is cold against my skin, and I pull it away from my chest. Through the throng of people, my person and I lock eyes again and he smiles.
I want to reach out and stop him, make him stay right here and continue this new thing. But he’s already disappearing into the crowd. There’s another tug from within my chest, an invisible string now stretching between us. I wonder if he feels it, too.
I stand there, too afraid that I’ve royally messed this up. He’s supposed to follow me, to begin this story. I cling to the fading joy I felt when I first saw him.
I found him.
Chapter Six
The bright white cabinets of the kitchen do nothing but reflect the harsh overhead light. I stare at a shot glass and a random bottle of liquor. This was not my plan. But my brain won’t stop replaying the horrible scene between me and my person. The things that came out of my mouth, running into him, the way his friends closed in around him, shutting me out. The rejection hurts on a physical level, thrumming down the string in my chest. I rub the spot and then pour a shot.
Just a bit to forget what happened.
I choke down the shot. Years of taking cough syrup and other liquid meds have not, in fact, prepared me for this moment.
“Hey,” Leo says. His voice is far away, like I’m hearing him underwater.
I search for my person, my body adrift, unmoored—but the world seems to right when I find him. He pushes his black hair out of his eyes and smiles at something a friend says. I want to know what that is.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Leo says. His hazel eyes narrow in my direction as if he knows about my plan to get wildly drunk. He leans in, cutting into my line of sight. I take a step back, thrust back into the reality that … I messed this up. Fate sent me my person and … it didn’t work. Not like it did for my aunts, not even like it did for Mom and Dad. Maybe Aunt Shelly was right; maybe there is something wrong with the Blessing.
I know how ridiculous my thoughts sound even in my head. All Hadley women are fools when they’re in love. It’s the one saying my mother and her sisters still agree upon. Though it’s pretty obvious they’re working with different connotations of the word fool.
I shake myself, trying to buck the feelings and find a moment of clarity. “Here I am.”
Plastering on a smile, I shove aside the disappointment and revel in the good. There’s nothing I can’t fix. My parents’ story used to be my example. Two people could meet and not talk for a year and still end up together. Beginnings can be fixed. Mended. Perfected. Love like this is not a one-time-sweeps-you-off-your-feet thing, it is a foundation to build on. But now look at their marriage—are rough beginnings just the harbinger of the end?
Tears lodge in my throat, and I take another shot, feeling the burn of alcohol down my throat.
“Piper, can we talk?”
I look up at Leo, remembering he’s here. My smile makes my cheeks hurt, but I don’t want to give Leo another reason to not talk to me for five months. I already have one relationship to fix—I don’t need another. “Hmm? Aren’t you doing that now?” The world seems to pull free of its frame, wobbling around the edges, the alcohol finally doing what it’s supposed to.
Leo fiddles with a bottle, his movements unsure. The oddest details stick out as my mind goes fuzzy with the alcohol and even the memory of my person gets a rosy glow. I relax into the feeling; this is exactly what I want.
“I know you think this thing your family does—falling in love—is important, but what if we—”
The laugh comes out of me without warning. Joy and astonishment. Me. I have a true love. The thing I have wanted since I was a child listening to my family’s stories. And he’s here.
I’m not like Great-Aunt Ida.
“Piper, would you want—” His words stop when he gets a good look at me. His eyes go from the bottle to the glass in my hand. “You feeling okay there? You don’t usually do shots—you’re much more of a nurse-a-drink-all-night sort of girl.” He really studies me now.
The key point is I found him. The feeling of relief, of finally feeling what has only been described to me, is a weight off my shoulders. There’s no hiding this feeling. I laugh and lean back, basking in the kitchen lights like it’s the sun itself.
“Better now,” I say. “I…” I take another shot, wanting the alcohol to cleanse my thoughts, scar over my terrible first impression.
“Okay, no more shots for you,” Leo says, shifting the liquor bottle so that it’s farther away from me. He moves so that he’s in my line of vision. “Can you tell me what day of the week it is?”
“I’m taking shots, not concussed.” I lightly push him away. But he doesn’t stop looking at me with concern as if he’s personally responsible for what happens to me. The world shifts and I grip the counter, trying to keep my equilibrium.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re doing shots?” Leo asks with a seriousness that balances between humor and true concern.
I close my eyes, trying to force myself to focus. I can see him, black hair, blue eyes, that little smile—the one where I was so certain he understood me. Gah, wait until I tell Diana about this. She’s tried to figure out my type since we started high school. Do I like tall people, sports people, smart people. Or maybe girls—which for the record is also acceptable.
“I found him,” I say. This is what I have been waiting for, and I should be happy. Unbelievably, incandescently happy, because I have dreamed of this moment. And my mind chooses that point to bring up the end of that moment. The embarrassment, the spilled beer, how his friends closed in and pulled us apart.
“I’m sorry, you what?” Leo asks, confusion poking out through the words. He looks around, hunting out who it could be.
There’s no stopping this. “Him. I found him. I saw him and I knew…” I’m rambling now, a string of nonsense sounds because I cannot contain the things I feel.
“I think we need some fresh air,” Leo says, taking me by the shoulders and directing me through the crowd. People call out to Leo over the music, trying to pull his attention, but my friend is on a set course. We’re out the front door before I break away from him, twirling around, my arms out wide. This has been the best night of my life.
“Deep breaths,” Leo says, miming the act with his hands.
I suck in air because I don’t have the heart to tell him it will do nothing for the alcohol in my bloodstream.
“But what did you want to talk about?” I ask, wanting to get away from this subject. I’m not sure how I’ll react to telling Leo about what happened.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Leo says, waving the comment away. I want to push him on this—as Diana would say, secrets don’t make friends, they make best friends. Who else knows Leo better than me? He holds me still so that I’m forced to look him in the eye. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but thoughts slip through my mind, and the one that rears its head is that Leo and I would have been so good together.
There’s a press right beneath my sternum, reminding me of the boy I just met. Leo and I were never meant to be. And how I wanted it to work, I think, the alcohol shaking loose my thoughts.
