Buried in the Stars Read online

  “We talked about thi-,” I start, but he puts a finger over my mouth and stops me from finishing my sentence.

  “I know, but I don’t always listen to you, do I?”

  My cheeks redden with shame. “I didn’t get you anything.”

  He smiles. “I didn’t want you to. Don’t you dare get me anything while I’m gone.” He dries a few more dishes and grabs my hand, dragging me to his room.

  We don’t come in here too often. Most of our time is spent in the living room in front of the television, or in the woods behind the neighborhood. I take a minute to look around at the various baseball trophies lined up on his shelves. There are a few posters tacked to the wall of some of his favorite movies and bands, but his room is pretty sparse. He pulls me down onto his bed and reaches underneath it, coming back up with a wrapped box. He sets the box between us and gets settled right in front of me, our knees touching.

  “Before you open it, promise me that you’ll take it, no questions asked.”

  “Sutton, starting it off that way isn’t very promising.”

  “I know how you are, Squirt. This isn’t a big deal. Well, not to me, but you’ll try to make it one. I did this more for me than for you.” His hand comes out and rubs up and down my leg before stopping to rest on my knee. Electricity buzzes along the path he just traced.

  “Okay,” I concede.

  “Thank you,” he whispers, rewarding me with a kiss on the forehead.

  I haven’t received a gift in ages. The last time a holiday was celebrated in my house was before my father passed away. I take my time peeling away the red and green paper, cherishing the notion that this is my first gift in six years.

  “Sutton,” I whisper and shake my head when I have the paper peeled away.

  “No, Scarlett. You promised.”

  “This is too much.” I know exactly why he did it, but buying me a cell phone is excessive. Even though money isn’t an issue in this household, he shouldn’t be spending it on me.

  “It’s not. This is just one of those prepaid ones, loaded up with some minutes so that I can keep in touch with you while I’m gone. It’s killing me knowing that you’ll be here and I’ll be in California for two weeks. There’s no way I can go that long without talking to you. We’ve talked every single day since we’ve met.”

  “I know, but,”

  “No buts, Squirt. Take it. I already have my number programmed in it.”

  “My mom will kill me if she finds it.”

  “She doesn’t have to. Keep it here.” He stands up and pulls something else out of his pocket. “Which brings me to gift number two.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  He flashes one of his trademark smiles, dimple and all, before he opens his hand and shows me a key.

  “What? Did you buy me a car, too?” I joke.

  He sits back down, even closer this time. “No, smartass. I know you won’t hang out at home, and you can’t hang out in the woods all day. It’s too cold. This is a key to the house. I want you to stay here.”

  “No.” I’ve got to draw the line somewhere.

  “Yes. Mom and Dad know I’m giving you this. Someone has to bring in the mail and water the plants. Who better to do the job than you?”

  “This is all too much.” I want to launch myself into his arms for his kindness; I want to curl up and die of embarrassment.

  I hate that he knows how shitty my life is.

  “Scarlett,” he says, taking my hands in his, “I promised you last year that I would keep you safe. This is me keeping my promise. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you while we were gone.”

  A few tears roll down my face. “Thank you.” It gets to a point where I’m too tired to fight him on things anymore.

  “I love you, Squirt.”

  My heart spasms in my chest and more tears fall. “You love me?”

  “Yeah.” Now both dimples are out in full force.

  “How much?” I tease. I know he doesn’t mean it in any way more than friends, and I need the heaviness I’m feeling to go away.

  “A lot.”

  I laugh. “More than what? Tell me.”

  “More than a little.” He dries my tears and hugs me. “I saw some brownies in the kitchen. Want some?”

  “I always want your mom’s brownies. Come on.”

  I try, unsuccessfully, to pull him from the bed. I fall back onto the mattress and we laugh, rolling into each other. Seconds later, the laughter dies and our breathing becomes labored. Our eyes lock and my heartbeat picks up, hammering against my ribs. There’s no way he can’t hear the thumping in the otherwise quiet room. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and my eyes are drawn to his mouth. When I break the contact, he clears his throat and leans away from me slightly.

  “Let’s go see about those brownies, Scarlett.” He’s off the bed, his hand extended to help me up, but I don’t take it.

  “I’ll be there in a second.”

  After he leaves the room, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, trying to calm the chaos happening in my body. I’ve never experienced something like that before, but I’ve seen enough movies and read enough books to know that Sutton and I almost kissed. Is Emily right? Does he like me? Would I have let it happen?

  I push it all aside and get off his bed. I can’t think about it too much. Sutton is my best friend, and I don’t think I want it any other way.

  If I lose him, I have nothing left.

  ***

  The buzzing of my new phone against my face pulls me from sleep. I sit up, panicked, when I realize that I slept here last night. Mom was on a rampage last night, spewing hateful, ugly things to me. I couldn’t stay there. I ran over here as fast as I could, as soon as it was safe. I needed to be in a place that made me feel good, not like a worthless piece of shit, as my mother called me.

  Sutton called shortly after I came over here and kept me occupied with stories of his family. I guess I fell asleep.

  “Hello?” I murmur, my voice still laced with sleep.

  “Merry Christmas, Scarlett.”

  I sit up and pull the covers tighter around my body, smiling despite the fact that I’m alone on a day that’s supposed to be spent with family. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Feeling better?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How was your mom when you got home last night?”

  I can hear wind blowing. Sutton’s grandfather lives on the beach. If I had to guess, he’s outside on the front porch, enjoying the view. He’s been surfing every day, taking advantage of the weather and the location.

  “I’m not sure. I never made it back home.” I hope he’s not mad.

  “Good. I want you at my house, that way I know you’re safe. Will you do me a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  “Go into the living room and turn on the tree lights.”

  “Why?” I ask, getting out of bed and going to the living room, even though I don’t understand his strange request.

  A door shuts quietly. “Because I’m going to do the same thing. Nobody’s up yet. This’ll be me and you, having our own Christmas celebration.”

  I feel around the back of the tree until I find the switch and turn it on, illuminating the branches with thousands of tiny white lights. It’s a beautiful sight.

  “Did you light it?”

  “Yes. It’s so pretty.”

  “Tell me your best Christmas memory, Scarlett. I want to hear about a time when you were happy.”

  This Christmas, I think. Lying on your living room floor, looking at the twinkling white lights, listening to your soothing voice on the phone, is the best Christmas I can remember.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve had a decent Christmas, I can’t really recall any good ones,” I tell him instead.

  “You won’t be able to say that anymore.”

  “Thanks to you. This means everything to me.”

  “I just want you to be happy.”
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  “I am. What about you?”

  “Every Christmas is awesome here in Santa Monica. Surfing with my grandfather and my brother is one of my favorite things to do; it always has been.” He waits for a beat or two before dropping his voice and giving me his next words, which mean everything to me. “We’ve been surfing all week, Squirt, but it’s kind of lost the appeal. I don’t feel like myself without you.”

  “I don’t either,” I whisper, too choked up to make my voice come out right.

  Sutton clears his throat and changes the subject… the current one is unchartered territory that neither of us are ready to explore. “Don’t be mad, but I got you something else. Look in my closet when we get off the phone. There’s one more present in there for you. It’s something small.”

  “I might strangle you when you come home.”

  “No you won’t. Call me later.”

  “Merry Christmas, Sutton.”

  “You too, Squirt.”

  After lingering in front of the tree for a few more minutes, curiosity gets the best of me, and I make my way back to his room. I don’t have to dig too deep to find another gift wrapped in the same paper as the phone. I take my time opening the small gift, laughing when the paper falls away and I see one of my favorite movies. I told Sutton once, several months ago, how sad I was that my copy of Dream for an Insomniac was lost in one of our many moves and I missed it terribly.

  Practically running to the living room, I pop the DVD into the player and lay in front of the tree, watching the story unfold. It’s been years since I’ve seen this movie, and now that I’m older, I can appreciate it more. The thought also skitters across my mind that Sutton Winters just might be my very own David Shrader.

  Chapter Five

  “Tell me a story,” I say without turning from the wall. I know it’s Sutton that’s climbing into the old treehouse without having to check. No one else comes up here anymore.

  “Only if you tell me what happened first.”

  I focus on a knot in one of the wooden slats instead. I don’t want to talk about my mother. She didn’t lay a hand on me earlier today. Her physical blows haven’t been as frequent, but her verbal lashings have been much harder to deal with.

  “She didn’t touch me, Sutton, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  The heat from the front of his body wraps around my back and a sense of calm washes over me. “Emily called,” he says, his warm breath hitting my shoulder. “She heard the two of you shouting from her yard.” He pushes closer and winds his arm around my waist, brushing his lips across the cluster of freckles on the top of my arm that he’s always tracing. He’s been a lot more physical this last year, ever since that almost kiss in his bedroom. Nothing like that has happened again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.

  I do, every single second I’m with him.

  “Please, Sutton,” I beg through the lump in my throat. “I don’t want to talk about her. Distract me.”

  He comes to my front and reaches out for my hand. I don’t want to leave. When I’m hiding here, I don’t have to think about anything else. I can pretend that everything in my life is fine. I can be a normal thirteen year old.

  “Let me tell you about the stars.”

  “The stars?”

  His smile grows and he nods. “Will you come on the roof with me?”

  My eyes must double in size. “I wouldn’t take you up there if it wasn’t safe, Scarlett,” he continues. “My dad built this thing to last. You know how he is. Nothing is going to happen.”

  I watch, equally shocked and scared, as he hoists himself out the small window and reaches toward the roof. After rooting around for a few seconds, a rope ladder falls into sight.

  “Ready?”

  “Umm, I guess.” I’m not exactly scared of heights, but climbing on a roof isn’t high on my list of things to do.

  “You go first, Scarlett. I won’t let you fall. I would never let anything happen to you.”

  I trust Sutton. I’ve trusted him since he found me huddled next to that tree, banged up, crying, and scared, the first time I ever laid eyes on him. I put on my proverbial big girl panties and place one shaky hand on the rope ladder. A few tugs reassure me that it’s not going to detach from the roof as soon as I put my full weight on it, so I pull in a few big breaths and go for it. As soon as there’s room, Sutton is right behind me. We don’t have to climb far to reach our destination. He nudges me to the middle of the roof. I don’t quite crawl, but I don’t walk upright to reach the center like he does. There’s only a slight slope to it, but that doesn’t mean I’m wild about hanging out up here.

  “Lie back and just breathe for a few minutes. Relax and clear your mind.” I get settled against his shoulder and let the warm breeze flow over my body, willing it to take away all the ugly I endured tonight. I listen to the calming beats of Sutton’s heart, and soon my own heart’s rhythm starts to mimic his.

  “Open your eyes and tell me what you see,” he whispers.

  “Stars.”

  His mouth curves into a smile at the top of my head. “You say that like it’s so simple.”

  “Well, that’s what I see.”

  “Those stars map out the night sky. They’re like cities or landmarks, helping astronomers figure out how other objects travel through space. Each constellation tells a story. There are eighty-eight named ones, but the thirteen Zodiac constellations are the most important.”

  “I’ve heard about them, but I’ve never been able to see them. I can’t even find the Big Dipper. I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

  His soft laughter vibrates through me. “They’re all there, buried in the stars. You just have to know where to look.” He sits up, pulling me with him. “Let me show you. They’re in a circle.”

  Sutton scoots his body behind mine and presses his front flush against my back. He runs his hand from my shoulder down to my wrist at a torturous pace and goosebumps break out across my skin, despite the warm night air.

  “Cold?” he whispers.

  I nod, even though I’m far from it. He rubs his other hand up and down my opposite arm in an unnecessary attempt to warm me up. “Give me your hand.” I do what he asks, and he wraps our arms around my waist. Our current position is doing nothing to help me fight the feelings I’ve developed for my best friend. I don’t want to fall in love with Sutton Winters. I need him to be my best friend, my protector, my refuge. If I lose that, there’s nothing left. So, I take a few shaky breaths and swat aside the butterflies that are taking flight inside my belly. Sutton has my arm lined up with his and is pointing up at the sky. With his chin resting on my shoulder and his mouth next to my ear, he starts to speak.

  “Let’s start with Sagittarius, the Archer. Follow our fingers, and I’ll point him out.” He traces a simple pattern out, but I still don’t see anything. He’s moving our hands and telling a story about Zeus and the king of the centaurs, but all I see are clusters of stars that don’t look like anything he’s telling me about. “You don’t see it,” he says, sounding a bit defeated that I’m not following.

  “I can’t.”

  He squeezes my hand around my waist before letting go. “Don’t move.” He disappears from the roof before I even realize he’s no longer sitting behind me.

  “Don’t worry,” I mutter.

  He comes back a few seconds later with a marker in his hand and a satisfied look on his face. “This will make it easier.” Sutton gets in his original position and scoots my shorts further up my thigh. “Do you mind?”

  I don’t know exactly what he’s asking, but he could do whatever he wanted to me, and I wouldn’t have any objections. I shake my head against his, and he starts to draw a series of dots and lines on my leg. He’s drawing clusters of constellations, labeling them as he goes, in a circle on my flesh. Some he tells stories about, others he just tells me the name and moves on. I’m not paying much attention to any of it, though. My mind is focused on the feel of Sutton wr
apped around me, the felt tip of his marker dragging across my skin, and the hypnotic tone of his voice.

  “Now, let’s see if you can make sense of the sky now,” he tells me, moving back slightly and taking my hand in his again. His free hand points to the map on my leg and his other one that is clutching mine points to the sky, finding the stars that correspond with the images on my skin.

  “I can see them,” I whisper. It’s like I’ve been let in on a secret only the two of us are privy to. One by one, Sutton points out the constellations and helps me decipher the stars.

  The chaos of the sky is calmed.

  “Thank you for showing me that,” I tell him, what feels like hours later.

  “I’m glad you let me. Most people tune me out. I’m a bit of an astronomy nerd.”

  “How did you learn all of this?” I can’t believe he’s just now letting me see this side of him.

  “My grandfather. You know the one we stay with in California? He’s an astronomy professor.” He looks down at my leg and back at me, a solemn look passing over his face. “Do you think it’s safe for you to go back home yet?”

  I can never tell, but with the amount of liquor I saw her consume earlier, she’s got to be passed out by now. “I’m sure it’s fine. If she’s up, I’ll go to Emily’s for the night.”

  He runs his hand through his mop of unruly curls. “I hate this.”

  “Please don’t.” I can’t go there with him right now. I don’t want the end of this wonderful night ruined. There’s nothing that can be done about the hell I have to endure at home, so talking about it won’t accomplish anything.

  “Can I walk you home?” Even after all this time he still asks, even though he knows I’ll say yes.

  “Always.”

  We walk home in silence, Sutton’s stare focused on the road and mine glued to the map of stars on my leg. He only speaks when he hugs me in my front yard and asks me to call him if I need anything. When I let myself inside, I linger in the foyer for a few minutes, listening for any sounds of movement. I decide the coast is clear and tiptoe into my bedroom. A shower would be heaven right now, but I don’t want to risk waking up my mother. Instead, I sit down in the middle of my bed with a notebook and a pen, recreating the map of stars that Sutton drew on my flesh.