She Dims the Stars(23)

“Audrey,” I yell to her, and she stops cold, turning to look at me like a deer caught in headlights. “Come here.” I motion for her to sit by me in the trunk and notice when her shoulders visibly relax as she makes her way across the gravel to the back of the car. The tires bounce a bit as she climbs in and folds her legs beneath her, plastering a smile on her face to hide whatever tension she just had displayed out there.

“Are you on a deadline?” she asks, craning her neck to look at my screen.

“Kind of. They want my first pitch soon, so I need to have something for them or else I’ll blow it before I even have a chance to show them my entire idea.”

Her focus drifts across the fire toward Cline and September, so I close my laptop and angle to face her better. “I’ve never seen him like this before. I mean, I’ve watched him hit on girls and take them back to our place or whatever—like what happened at your party—but he’s actually talking to her. Listening and paying attention. I guess there’s a first time for everything.” I keep my tone light, hoping to get her to talk, because she’s being so quiet.

“It’s not the first time,” she says softly, her stare unwavering.

“No?”

“No. I never believed in love at first sight until sixth grade. We got this new student on the first day of school and Cline got this look on his face like his entire world had just suddenly changed in the blink of an eye. She was all he talked about for a week before he got the guts to ask her out at lunch. He did it with a note, because he didn’t want to be embarrassed if she said no. Which she did.”

Her eyes meet mine and there’s a sadness in the way her mouth is pulled so tight and how her eyes are narrowed. “She didn’t have to be such a total bitch about it, though. Showed everybody the note. Made him feel like an * for it. Like she was better than him.”

“Oh.” It’s really all I can say, because we’re twenty-one now, and that kind of stuff doesn’t matter anymore in the grand scheme of things. I doubt Cline even remembers it. But Audrey’s sitting here like she’s reliving it all over again for the first time.

“Told you I hated a girl named Kelsey once.” She smiles and shakes my shoulder roughly. “I stole her bra in P.E. She had to run a mile holding her boobs. Low key revenge for my best friend? Worth it.”

There are suddenly so many questions I want to ask. Like, how things could be that close between the two of them and then suddenly one day they were strangers who hated each other with no reason whatsoever. Was it a misunderstanding? Why had Audrey run away in the first place?

Before I can speak, Cline’s calling out that dinner is ready, and Audrey is out of the car holding out her hand for me to follow. So I do. The four of us sit in front of the fire with hotdogs on wires, trying to get them cooked and not burnt, but Cline keeps putting his too far into the flames, and he’s caught three consecutive wieners on fire.

“Don’t put it in so far,” September chides him, and he makes eye contact with me, his eyes wide and mouth open like he wants to make a dirty joke and it’s killing him not to.

I swallow my bite quickly to cut him off before he can do something stupid and say, “September is a really unique name. Did your parents name you after the month you were born?”

The pretty brunette turns and rolls her eyes like she’s heard this a hundred times and shakes her head. Her hair is pulled back into a wild ponytail, and the fire makes the right side of her face glow bright orange as the flames pop and crackle. “I was born in July. And no, September is not the month I was conceived, either. There’s no logic to it.”

There’s a choking sound from my left and Audrey turns her head when I look over at her. She’s wiping her mouth and covering it with her hand as her shoulders start to shake. Turning back to look at September, I note that her eyes are squinted in amusement.

“My sister’s name is Thursday. Guess when she was born?” She asks, pointing her hot dog in my direction.

“On a Thursday?” I guess.

“On a Monday,” she answers with a laugh.

Cline is really trying to keep it together because he likes this girl, but I can hear his voice crack when he asks the next question. “So do you only have the one sister?”

“No, I have a brother, too.” Her face is expressionless as she waits for one of us to ask what we all want to know.

“What month or day did they name him after?” Cline can hardly get the question out.

“They named him Anderson. He got off easy.” She takes a bite of her food and grins. “I tried to go by my middle name for a while, Jocelyn. But then people wanted to give me a nickname, and it was Jocie, but that turned into Jockey, and eventually it was easier just to go back to being September Worley. No one wants to abbreviate that name. And even if I have to explain that my parents just like to mess with people by naming us weird names, it’s still mine, ya know?”

“So, why are you only staying through tomorrow night? And why are you alone?” Audrey scoots closer to me so that the other girl can hear her.

September is very serious when she answers. “I’ve come to the end of my journey. My time of Rumspringa is over and I must return home.”

Cline’s entire wire, hot dog and all, goes directly into the fire. “Oh, my god … sorry, I’m sorry. You’re Amish? How? And you only have a few days left? You’re going back? I—you—this—“