Page 38 of To Love the Stars too Fondly

Surely that was all it was, this affection. But when she pulled away, I couldn’t deny the stars in her eyes.

It made me restless. As nonchalantly as I could, I pulled out of her arms, though my smile remained sincere as I sat up. “Could I use your bathroom?”

“Of course.” She joined me in rising, though her movements were labored. “If you want, you’re welcome to shower. And I don’t want to make too many assumptions as to the state of your thong, but I can throw your clothes in the wash, if you want to stick around.”

I glanced at the forgotten thong, crumpled and crusty on the floor. “I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”

“It’s also possible I just want to show off how badass my showers are.” Alex set a hand on my back and led me toward the stairs.

The shower had multiple heads from various points in the ceiling, and that was only the beginning of its wonders.

The temperature control. The dispensers with every sort of soap a girl could imagine. A steamer for aromatherapy. Speakers built into the walls. It took all my willpower to not just settle in and accept it as my new home.

But Alex wasn’t here, and eventually my own antsy nature led me to shut off the water and step out. The warm lighting kept me cozy as I grabbed a towel. A white robe had been lovingly folded and placed on the counter, waiting to embrace me, and the moment it touched my skin, I could tell this wasn’t some department store knock-off. Whatever the hell this fabric was, it was pure luxury.

My phone buzzed to ruin my bliss. Most likely it was my mom telling me she was on her way home, but when I turned it over, I was assaulted by Cliff’s name.

And then a second buzz. Two unread messages.

Nervous, I opened them up.

Saw you leave with that dyke. Is that why you haven’t been texting me back?

And then the second one: Is she your girlfriend?

There didn’t have to be a threat for the second message to knock the wind out of me. I had to tell Alex, yet bile rose in my throat. I wasn’t sure what was worse: the awful pic just a scroll away in the thread, confronting that question…

…or what he could do if he knew.

Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was warm blood seeping onto frozen concrete while you begged to call 911—

The phone clattered into the sink. I ducked, head against the granite finish of the counter. Damn these tears. My breath came in spurts.

I couldn’t protect El. I wouldn’t be able to protect Alex either.

I sank to the floor, tears clouding my vision as I fought to keep my cries muted.

Pathetic. Weak. That’s what I’d been when she’d died in my arms.

And now….

I gasped as time suddenly ticked forward once more, clarity settling despite my heaving breaths. I swallowed them, wiped my tears, then stared once again at the messages.

I had to tell her. I could blame my red eyes on the shower.

Alex’s condo was compact, with a few closed doors atop the stairs. But I heard what I was confident was the TV downstairs, so I made my way down, as clean as I’d ever been.

There was Alex on the overly comfy couch, clad in her own maroon robe, paying little attention to whatever sitcom was on the huge TV screen mounted to the wall. Her eyes flicked up from her phone, her smile leaving me swooning.

It faded. She stood, swiftly approaching. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine—”

“You’re sheet white.” Her hand grasped my forearm, the other touching my forehead. “Come sit. I’ll get you some water.”

I didn’t fight when she led me to the couch and said nothing when she disappeared into the kitchen. Only when she returned with a glass did I find my words. “I need to tell you something.”

Cautious now, Alex set the water on the table before me. “Okay?”