The Falling (Brightest Stars, #1)(24)

Not a peep came from Kael; he didn’t even move. If I hadn’t witnessed him blinking, I’d have wondered if he was okay. He had this “thing” about him, and I didn’t understand it. I kept trying to make him fit into a box—was he charming, warm, friendly, genuine? He didn’t quite fit anywhere exactly, but he somehow put me at ease. It wasn’t a familiar feeling. It was sort of scary how fast I could see myself getting used to this. This must be why people want boyfriends? To have a comfortable, settled feeling all the time.

Boyfriends? Friends? What in the world is wrong with me? I kept the conversation focused on my mom. It felt nice to be able to talk about her, and who knew when I would next have this chance?

“Anyway, my mom, she wasn’t materialistic. She didn’t care about overpriced purses or flashy earrings. She shopped at thrift stores and made her own jewelry half the time. The fanciest we ever got was for our birthdays. She was obsessed with birthdays, even more than Christmas-level obsessed. She used to go all out for them. It was this huge thing, more like a birthday week. We didn’t have a ton of gifts or anything, but she was creative and thoughtful. She would make us pancakes and cut them into the shape of our age. She did it every single year until I was seventeen.”

I paused.

“If you want me to shut up, I will.” I laughed nervously, realizing that this guy hadn’t given me anything and I was telling him stuff I had never told anyone. Half of me saw the red flags, and the other half ignored them because it just felt good to be around him. It crossed my mind that I could make up anything I wanted about my mom if I felt like it. I didn’t have to tell him the truth about her. I could make her out to be the villain who abandoned her kids, or a sympathetic free spirit who escaped the ties of a life she was forced to live but never wanted.

He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. I stopped talking.

“Go on.”

There was something too casually cool about him. He was close to the line of arrogant and I could feel how sure of himself he was. I envied it. The way he knew exactly who he was and didn’t have to say it or show it off. His attentive listening made it clear he wasn’t a narcissist. I’ve met enough of them to know.

“One year she really went to town. The year before . . .” I paused. I wasn’t ready to decide which version of my mother I would put in the story I was telling Kael. “She decorated the whole house in those lights from Spencer’s, even a freaking disco ball. Do you remember that store? They had the most absurd T-shirts and penis-shaped everything.”

He nodded.

“They had these disco lights and my mom put them around our living room and kitchen. All of our friends came over. I mean, I only had like three friends, most of the kids came for Austin. We always had a packed house. I had this boyfriend, Josh, and he brought me cornbread. That was my birthday gift.”

I didn’t know why I was going into such detail, but I was so lost in my own memories that I just kept going.

“I never figured out why he brought me cornbread. Maybe his mom had it lying around? Or was it a snarky joke about my weight that I didn’t get at the time? . . . I don’t know. But I remember getting this karaoke machine and thinking it was the coolest present ever, and my mom went into her room and locked the door during the party so we could feel older than we were and not be chaperoned the entire time. Of course, we ended up playing one of those stupid party games and I had to kiss a boy named Joseph, who actually overdosed on heroin a few months ago . . .”

I could feel Kael looking at me, but it was the weirdest thing—I couldn’t stop myself from talking. We were at another red light. The sky was pitch-black and the red lights were reflecting off his dark skin.

“Wow, I’m talking a lot.” I clammed up, embarrassed. I couldn’t believe I had spiraled into conversation about the drug epidemic and everything. My cheeks flushed.

He looked over at me.

“It’s cool. I like hearing your take on the world.” His voice was so soft.

Who was this guy? So patient, so reserved, yet so in touch with the moment. I tried to imagine his friends, the lucky people who actually got to know him. Like Phillip, Elodie’s husband. Phillip was buoyant and friendly, and Kael . . . well, I didn’t know what the hell to think of him.

My brother was the only person I’d had to share reminiscences of my parents with. He had an aversion to reliving our childhood, and he no longer wanted to dwell on that part of our lives, but not me—well, I lived in the past most of the time. Even so, I’d never had this type of conversation with anyone other than Austin.

“My take on life?” I repeated. “You’ve heard enough about that. What’s your life like?” The light turned green. I wished it would have stayed red for another minute, another hour, maybe even an entire day.

He looked a little perplexed.

“There isn’t much to say. My life is that of a soldier. I live alone. Sleep and wake up alone. Go to war with my guys and hope to come back alive.”

Now I was the one who was speechless.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?”

“No way.” He immediately shook his head.

“A boyfriend?” I just had to ask. I took him in, his uniform, his young face, his voice that spoke as if he were a generation older than he looked.

He shook his head. “Neither. There’s no point in dating. I’m a soldier. Why make anyone else suffer while waiting for me to die?”