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It’s true what I’d written: All I’d ever wanted was to fly. To stare down at the clouds and feel the air beneath my wings. But now here I was, grounded. Laying on my back on my dad’s old car, a can of bad, lukewarm beer in my hand, staring up at the sky.

If I hadn’t pulled that stupid stunt on my last sortie, I’d be up there now. What the hell had I been thinking?

Clearly I hadn’t been.

It was that time of year again. When that heavy darkness came over me and I had to claw my way out of it just to get through the day, let alone fly in a border patrol mission for NATO. At the time, I’d wanted to give a giant, contrail middle finger to the universe. Instead, I was the one getting fucked over, and I had no one to blame but myself. Well, that and my bad luck.

You see, I was born under a bad star.

I’ve known it since I was a boy. If I closed my eyes, I could still remember hearing someone say it for the first time. I was twelve years old, putting on a brave face at my mother’s funeral, hiding under a table and listening to our neighbor Urszula talk about me.

“Biedne dziecko, first the father goes, when he is baby, now mama gone. He is born under a bad star.” She crossed herself then took another bite of shrimp cocktail while the world as I knew it came crashing down around me.

It was all my fault. I’d been born under a bad star.

Even now, the words echoed like a bad refrain in my head. Sometimes I hummed them. Other times I repeated them in Urszula’s thick Polish accent. But I never doubted them.

That star had it out for me and it had a hell of a way of showing it: taking away the people I cared about most, instead of directing its attention on me. I wish I knew what fucking star it was so I could blow it out of the goddamn sky.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I slid it out, squinting at the screen. A message from Olivia. Fuck. I couldn’t ignore her forever, but the last thing I wanted was to admit to her that, not only had I not finished my application for the astronaut training program, I’d been suspended from flying. She had enough on her plate as it was with a brand-new baby. She didn’t need to be looking after her grown-ass cousin as well.

I’d pulled my stunt only a couple days after coming back from her place in the south of France. Her husband, Jake, owned a vineyard on the Mediterranean and I’d spent a week there helping out with the harvest, meeting baby Charlie, and testing some of Liv’s new recipes. She’d sent me home with a suitcase full of goodies for my Air Force buddies. The last thing I wanted to admit to her was that things were bad, very bad.

Born under a bad star . . .

I slid the phone back in my pocket, but I should’ve known she wouldn’t let it go. My phone started ringing, and with a groan, I answered it. “Hey, Liv.”

“Levi, finally! I was worried.” The anxiety in her voice was real.

“Stop worrying all the time. Everything’s good,” I lied and quickly changed the subject before she could suss me out. “Hey, so the guys want to place another order for those PB&J cookies. They devoured them in about fifteen seconds.”

“Really?” She always sounded so surprised when anyone complimented her cooking, even after a year of culinary school in Paris and landing a gig with a prestigious test kitchen. “I’m amazed that there were any left after your drive back to base.” She teased, knowing that I was a notorious glutton and could easily pound back a dozen cookies in one sitting.

“Yeah, all the cookies and the other goodies made it to Italy. I packed them away so I couldn’t get to them,” I assured her. “Gonzo wondered if you’d consider setting up a delivery service. He said he’d be ready to fly out there once a week for more of your food.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet! I’m game.”

She would be. She was always trying to help everyone out.

“How’s Charlie?” I asked. The kid was an adorable little nugget. I’d enjoyed cuddling him and inhaling his fresh baby scent while I was there.

“Sleeping. As soon as his belly’s full he’s out like a light.”

“And Jake?”

“Same.” Olivia laughed. “But he has an excuse; he’s been out in the vines all day though.”

“Well, give him a kiss for me when he wakes up.”

There was a long pause before Olivia answered. “Uh, I’m really glad you and Jake have bonded and all, but I’m not sure how he’d react if I kissed him for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I meant Charlie.”

“Right, of course.” Olivia chuckled. “Lack of sleep has scrambled my brain. Anyway, I didn’t call to find out if everyone liked my cookies, that was a pretext, and, listen, I don’t want to nag but . . . have you made any progress on that application?”

I sat up—the world spinning slightly as gravity tried to take hold of me. Okay, so maybe two beers on an empty stomach hadn’t been such a good idea. Running my hand down my face, I clenched the rolled-up papers that I’d been using as a telescope. The application for NASA’s next cohort of junior astronauts. Not only had I not made any progress on it, I’d been using it as a makeshift telescope to spy on my fellow pilots. “I, uh, I’ve been busy.”

“Levi! This is your dream, please don’t wait until the last minute. Remember how you talked me into finally telling my dad about leaving law school for cooking in France? You wouldn’t let me chicken out, and now it’s my turn to nag you! The deadline’s in less than a month!”