In Sight of Stars(47)

She had only shrugged, and said, “Not worth the price I have to pay when I get home. Let’s just say the record is three weeks straight of trying to drag my mother back up from the Pit of Despair.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the you-betrayed-and-deserted-me Pit of Despair.”

“So then don’t go.”

“I have to. It’s in their Agreement,” she’d answered.

And she was right about afterward. For the first few weeks of January, I barely saw her outside of school. She was always helping her mom around the house, or going places with her. Part of me wondered if she was just making excuses not to be with me, but then she’d call or text and tell me how she wanted me and missed me.

You looked hot in T’s today. Away this weekend. Keep it up & I may have to do you in janitor’s closet.

I pull her to me now, and kiss her. She responds halfheartedly, so I stop and peer into her eyes. She stares off past me, until I raise my brows in question.

“Nothing. What? You know how the holidays get to me, Klee.”

“Old news. It’s February. I was hoping we could fully enjoy the evening. Enjoy enjoy.” I waggle my eyebrows.

“We are. I am,” she says, punching me playfully in the chest. “It’s just not that easy. To switch gears. I wish she’d meet someone, get over him already.”

“Me, too,” I say. “Hey, I know,” I add without thinking, “come with me to Boston next year.” The minute I say it, I’m panicked. It’s exactly what I shouldn’t be saying.

“You don’t even know if you’re going,” she answers, though I’m not sure how she means it. A challenge? A dig? Something else?

“Formalities,” I offer, trying to sound casual, though I don’t even come close. I like her too much. Jesus, I’m in love with her. “I won’t have trouble getting in. At least I don’t think so. And there are lots of schools up there. Northeastern, BU, a whole bunch of them.”

“Can’t afford it … we’ve had this conversation before.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s not paying either.”

“Okay, fine, but how do you know? Did you ask—?”

“Klee!” she interrupts, fury in her eyes. “I told you to stop! I’m not going! I’m not leaving her. She’d fall apart. She’d fucking kill herself if I did that! You want me to have that on my head?”

I shoot her a look, the words cutting the darkness, echoing in my ears. She realizes too late what she’s said, how it sounds. Not that she meant anything by it. But she’s right. Maybe there was something I could have done. Something I didn’t do that would have changed things. Maybe I’m selfish because I couldn’t see the problem, didn’t even realize I needed to help him.

Tears sting my eyes. Sarah looks at me and says, “I’m sorry, Klee. Really. I didn’t mean anything by that. But, see, that’s the difference between you and me. You have options and I don’t. You don’t even get that there’s a difference.”

“I do. I mean, I don’t know if I do, but you have choices…”

She whirls on me. “See? You don’t! With your nice house and your fancy car and the whole stupid world at your fingertips. I’m stuck here, forever, in Northhollow. If not because of money, then taking care of her. So get over it. Stop trying to fix things. And stop trying to make me something I’m not!”

“Sarah—”

“What?”

You’re being ridiculous, I want to say. And unfair. Besides, she’s a grown woman. A nurse. She cares for people. She doesn’t expect you to care for her. But I don’t. Because I know better. If my dad had needed me—had asked—I would have stayed, too. If only he had asked.

“Hey, Klee?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.” She takes my hands and presses them to her cheeks, which are pink with cold, or maybe pink in the glow of the spire lit up for Valentine’s Day. “I am. I know you mean well, and I don’t want to fight. This isn’t your fault. I came here because I wanted to. I want to be here with you.”

She leans into me now, and pulls my arms around her, and we’re kissing again, but this time her body gives, and folds completely into mine, and all I can think about is that, somehow, we’re going to be okay.

When we stop kissing, we both turn and look out over the sparkling city together, this city I love, that now Sarah loves as much as I do.

“See that mist?” I ask, nodding at where the sky is shrouded with fog.

“Yeah?”

“Reach out and see if you can touch it with your fingers.” She presses her body to the guardrails and extends her arm out through the grating, stretching her fingers just far enough to touch the tip of the patch in front of us. “That’s actually a cloud,” I tell her. “We’re actually standing in the clouds. You’re touching a cloud.”

“That’s amazing,” she says.

“You’re amazing,” I say, moving behind her, and pressing into her again. “Every time I’m with you, it’s like I get to touch a cloud.”

“Don’t do that.” She shrugs me off and closes her eyes. “I hate when you do that. You’re too nice … I can’t return it … Don’t make me be mean to you.” She wraps her arms to her chest and starts walking again.