The Brightest Star in a Constellati... - Chapter 37: Chapter 37

☽ Peter ☽
A storm is brewing over Northwood. Lines of nimbostratus clouds cut across the sky like the icicles hanging from the hotel's roof. According to my calculations, (I found a website for it online, but it required my postal code, and now Nicole claims my identity is definitely about to be stolen) there's a ninety-three percent chance that school will be closed tomorrow.
It's my turn to take the night shift at the hotel. I've already cleaned the occupied rooms, taken care of the laundry, and I have relatively little work left to do. In the meantime, I find a barstool seat at Lotus, accompanied by Dina, who is scuttling back and forth between the kitchen and the drinks bar.
She appears from clearing the last table of the night, still stuck in service mode, and says to me, "We're about to close, sorry."
"You actually close in a few minutes, but I can forgive it," I reply with a smile.
Dina turns around. Her apron is stained with spots of grease and a smear of ketchup that makes the shape of a star with one side too many. "Oh," she says, "how long have you been sitting there?"
I shrug. "Maybe fifteen minutes. I got bored with colour-coding spreadsheets."
"I'd imagine." She pours herself a drink of hot chocolate before flicking the coffee machine off and cleaning it out. With the cups stacked and the menus set aside, she slides onto the stool next to mine. When she hangs her apron on the rack with the others, I spot that her shirt is the design Nicole made earlier. The glossy image is screen-printed onto it, and although I got her to make a similar hoodie for me, it came in a size too small.
I lift my phone screen as a message from the group chat appears.
[AC Group Chat: Evan, Nicole, and Dina's initials spell END *x files theme* (idk I've never watched it)]
Nicole:
95% chance of a snow day now
Peter:
I see you found the website.
Nicole:
they already have your location. I may as well let them take me too
we can get kidnapped together
Lexa:
Why would you want that
Nicole:
true friends get abducted by aliens together <3
Lexa:
aliens?
Nicole:
lex, we can't be friends if you don't think ufos are real
Peter:
It's called an unidentified flying object for a reason.
Evan:
Nobody said it couldn't be a plane
Lexa:
An unidentifiable plane?
Evan:
I guess it depends on who's identifying it
Are clouds ufos?
Nicole:
asking the real questions
Jay:
if I toss you into the sun, it's a UFO
Peter
We are really getting to the heart of the astronomy club here.
Lexa:
Anyone who joins an astronomy club has an opinion on this
From her seat, I watch Dina take out her phone. She grins at me while she types up a message.
Dina:
there's bound to be something out there. It seems like an awful waste of space otherwise
Nicole:
you can't fool me, that's a quote from contact
Peter:
Okay, look, let's be honest. We're looking for other life based on our description of what we think the required elements of life are. Looking for signs of oxygen is pointless for all we know, and organisms have evolved past that point.
Nicole:
you know, I have a theory that boys turn 13 and base their whole personality around wanting to become an astronaut, a truck driver, or a coast guard
every day I spend with you, this theory proves itself to be true
Evan:
what
Jay:
What
Lexa:
can I add forestry to this list?
Jay:
Shut up.
Nicole:
forestry??? WHY was that your ideal job???
Jay:
SHUT UP. SERIOUSLY. IT LOOKED COOL.
In front of me, Dina grabs her backpack and reaches for the scheduling sheet for next semester's classes—that I have yet to fill out.
"You reminded me," I say, "I should do that today. When's the deadline?"
Her pencil bubbles in the required credits: one math class, two sciences, and the electives. Given that I'm already completing most of those this semester, I haven't got many options to choose from. (And don't ask me why law is offered in French, but certain history credits aren't. I'll never figure it out.)
"Sometime next week, I think," Dina replies. "I thought you'd have already done it by now."
I shrug. "I got caught up in studying for exams." I've reread my notes almost every night before bed, which is supposed to help with memory retention, (all while listening to classical music at 60 BPM, which may not be scientifically proven, but I'm getting desperate). And either my brain has no space left in it to fit anything else, or I'm simply too distracted for the information to sink into long-term memory.
When I glance back at the group chat, the messages seem to have switched subjects, so I type out a text with the subtlety that I can muster. Have you started studying? It sounds idiotic, (and it isn't subtle in the least) so I erase it and start again.
Peter:
Here's hoping that exams are delayed because of the snow.
Nicole:
don't remind me
are we on step three of the studying process now?
Peter:
Basically.
What classes is everyone taking?
Nicole:
haven't decided yet
Lexa:
law
Dina:
that's a class?
Lexa:
Apparently
Dina:
Why is the school offering a law class but not Spanish?
Nicole:
come on, we have French it's basically the same thing
Peter:
Je vous hais.
Nicole:
you LOVE me. just admit it.
Peter:
Respectfully, I have to disagree.
And yes, I used "vous" which implies that we are not close.
Dina:
At least you're being respectful
Nicole:
wow am I ever grateful
when am I going to see you being evil
Evan:
does an evil version of him exist?
Nicole:
oh my god he exists, I just can't figure out how to make him angry enough to try it
Peter:
Your intentionally bad spelling might one day push me over the edge.
Nicole:
ouch
does this sentiment include the eighth grade Pierre who tried to conjugate "ran"
Peter:
It stays the same, and this frustrates me. Why does it stay the same?
Evan:
oh yeah, because French verbs make total sense
Peter:
I didn't say they made sense, but there is a method to it, once you get used to the conjugation.
Evan:
says. the native. speaker.
Peter:
Why. Are you. Typing. Like this.
Evan:
because. I can.
and anyway, I've been thinking about taking a French class again
This might be a mistake, but you know
Peter:
Okay, pop quiz.
Je suis fini? Or j'ai fini?
Lexa:
Oh god
Evan:
wait I KNOW THIS
I always mix them up, goddamn it
je suis fini?
Peter:
C'est quand, tes funérailles? Unless you are trying to be dramatic, you're announcing that you're finished, for good.
Evan:
okay, okay :( I had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right.
Finished with her class schedule, Dina gathers up her things. Before she heads home, she asks, "By the way, are we having a club meeting next week?"
I shake my head. "Probably not, with exams in the way. I have something special planned, though. There's an eclipse happening in April. There's no date for it, not yet. But I was thinking about planning to get everyone together," I say.
"Sounds like it could be a wonderful plan." Dina smiles. "And a great time to confess to someone."
"What?"
I join her on our way to the door, angling my footsteps on the carpet like following arrows. "Nothing," Dina assures me, even if I can tell that she's holding it back. (And what exactly it could be, I don't know.) "Don't worry about it. I noticed during the sleepover that Evan and Nicole have... it's sort of a thing, isn't it? I was going to ask if you'd noticed, but I could be wrong."
I think back to that night. After all, I've known Nicole since we were kids. We practically grew up together, and I've come to predict how she will react to situations. But Jay's comment on relationships threw her off so much that Evan noticed it. "Really?" I ask, partly because I'm curious myself. "I wasn't sure anyone would bring it up. I certainly don't know for sure that it's the case... but it's plausible."
My throat is dry as Dina says, "Right. That's what I thought. Well, I'd better get going. I don't want to miss the bus."
After she's left, I take my seat behind the front desk. When I check my email, there's a message waiting for me from Nicole. (After all, she must be capable of knowing when I mention her.) It reads, I was going to send this to you later, but I'm bored, and I think you are, too. This one's for you, with love from Nicole, (and Evan helped a little).
She's attached a file that I don't recognize. Its name is Currently Untitled. The loading bar completes in a few minutes, and a window pops up to replace it. It shows a flash game that Evan has helped draw; I recognize his art style from his doodles, although the digital version is slightly different. The homepage is of the main characters, (one of which looks remarkably like Nicole, and another of Evan) on a sunset background.
I click on the play button, and an animation starts. And I get lost in the story of a post-apocalyptic town, and its surviving main character who hears a radio broadcast from afar. Have you ever heard of a trou perdu, it reads, it's a phrase that means, 'lost hole.' But it refers to a backwater town; a place unaffected by the world. A town with no name.
It's a fact she almost certainly got from my blog, and it brings a smile to my face. Over the course of my shift, I meet the cast of characters and the town with a sign rendered illegible. It reminds me of Northwood, but it isn't, at the same time. The character that looks like Evan's twin is called Neva. He's drawn him the same way he draws himself—down-turned, tired eyes dotted with purple under-eye bags, and the perpetual hint of a half-smile. The game gives me choices on who to interact with, and what to rebuild first.
But I prefer to explore the faceless town. In Evan's style, the plants and forests bordering it have a surreal element to them. The stems are a shade of green that borders on grey, and clicking on the stumps zooms in to show me the sap dripping from it, in a deep red like a fresh cut.
In the main character's interactions with Neva, he turns away as the dialogue appears in his text-box. Does it really look that different? he asks. This is how I've always seen the world. This town has always been lost.
An option for me to select a response appears. I click on the only reasonable one: Maybe it deserves to be.
☆ ☽ ☆
I submit my new class decisions one day before the deadline. With any luck, I'll get to share my free period with Nicole this time.
I have to dig my car out from underneath the snow on the day of my first exam, but I arrive at school early anyhow. My brain is making one last-ditch effort to revise everything, and I breeze through the hallways, grabbing a snack from the cafeteria before settling into my usual spot on the basement floor where I can concentrate in relative quiet.
I reach into the depths of my bags to find my notes. A piece of paper flutters out from underneath my flashcards, though the sides are a bit ripped from floating around at the bottom of my backpack for however long.
It's a drawing. More specifically, a drawing of me. It's more defined than the sketch of me in profile that he came up with when we were hiking. The graphite of the pencil is smudged at the corners, fanned out to give the face definition. I barely recognize it as myself; wide-framed glasses hang off the bridge of my nose, the palm of my hand pressed against my chin, and a crew neck shirt shaded by crosshatching. (It's different. A new perception of me.)
I brush my hands over the page, wondering at what point Evan drew me. And how long it's been tagging along for the ride.
I shove it back in its place and head into the exam room, eager to get this day over with.