The Accidentals(12)
Hey Rachel!
It’s not that weird at all that you’re showing up just for senior year. A lot of people come for junior or senior year, because CPrep looks good on college applications. And CPrep students have an easier time getting into Claiborne College up the road. Both my parents are professors there, so if I get rejected it’s going to be awwwwkward.
My parents are spending the year in Glasgow, so I’ll be living in the dorm for the first time. I’m a little nervous about the roommate thing, too. But seniors’ rooms are pretty big, which helps.
Music groups—I wouldn’t know a glee club from a choir to save my soul. But I do know the a cappella groups have auditions. They treat it like a sorority. You don’t “try out” you “rush” them. The only reason I know this is from their overly cute little flyers on the dining hall tables. You’ll see.
I hope you’re having a nice summer. I’m on Cape Cod with my parents this month and working lots of hours at a clam shack. The pay is good but I smell like fried fish all the time. I keep rewashing the uniform T-shirt, trying to get the smell out. But it’s fried onto the cotton. Sexy.
The other bummer is that Cape Cod isn’t as dark as New Hampshire. I’m an astronomy nut. (Nerd powers, activate!) I brought my telescope all the way here, but there’s more light pollution here than I expected. I can’t always see the fainter stars, even during a new moon.
I know. First world problems.
Keep the questions coming,
Best,
Jake
It feels like another lifetime since I’d read his first letter. But it has only been a few hours. I tap out a reply with my fingertip.
Dear Jake,
It’s nice of you to answer my questions. I still need to know what I should bring with me. Do they send out a packing list?
Astronomy, huh? I don’t know any other astronomy buffs. Of course I’ve been to Cape Canaveral on school trips, and I’ve seen rocket launches (you can see them from 100 miles away.) But that isn’t really the same thing.
Looking through a telescope sounds peaceful. Isn’t it true that everything we see in the night sky is really a million years old, or something? That’s a comforting thought, actually. Lately my life is happening at warp speed, when I wish it wouldn’t.
Bye for now,
Rachel
That’s as much truth as I can put into a note to a stranger. After hitting send, I tuck the new phone under my pillow and try to sleep.
Chapter Four
The next afternoon, I work math problems in the library until the five thirty closing time. The only distraction is Haze, who sits beside me, sulking.
All my exams will be finished in a week or so. And my library job is almost over too. The rest of my summer is about to become a gaping void, with my eighteenth birthday in the middle of it.
My first birthday without Mom. I can’t even think about that right now.
I get a new email from Jake, which helps.
Rachel,
It’s nice of you to say that astronomy sounds “peaceful” because plenty of other people would say “boring.” To me it’s exciting, but then again I’m weird. I like that astronomy is both accessible to everyone (Walk outside, look up at the sky) and utterly remote at the same time.
In the way of a true nerd boy, though, allow me to correct your understanding of how old the stuff in the sky is. Like you said, some of the things we can see are really old news. There’s a red supergiant called Betelgeuse (not to be confused with the weird Winona Ryder movie) that’s about 640 lightyears away. So tonight’s view of it is from 640 years ago.
That star is probably already dead. I’m actually hoping it finally exploded, say, 639 years ago so I’ll soon get to see it happen with my own eyes.
On the other hand, Sirius (not to be confused with Harry Potter’s godfather) is just 8.6 lightyears away. So our view of that star is from a time when the Nintendo wii was still cutting edge.
When you look up at the stars, you’re getting a mixed view of the ancient and new all mashed together. Like someone photoshopped the sky.
Your last message made it sound like your summer isn’t going so well. Hope things get better.
You will get a packing list during August. Some people also bring a coffee pot or a popcorn machine, even though it’s against the rules. Lots of Claiborne rules aren’t followed or enforced.
It’s time for me to go sell fried clams to drunk people.
Cheerio!
J.
“Who’s that guy?” Haze asks from right over my shoulder, where he’s obviously been reading my email.
“He’s…” I try to remember how Jake put it in his first letter. “A peer liaison. Or something. From the prep school. To answer my questions.”
Even as I stutter out my explanation, Haze’s expression goes sour. “Awfully friendly, isn’t he?”
“Shouldn’t he be?” I challenge. “Would it be better if the people at my new school were assholes?”
“No.” Haze grins because he thinks it’s funny when I curse. “I guess not. Bunch of preppies, though. They can’t be very much fun. Astronomy?” He makes a face.
I close my laptop, feeling irritable. Somewhere there’s a boy named Jake standing on a beach in Massachusetts and waiting for a star to explode. I have a picture of him in my mind, staring up at the sky, his hands jammed in his pockets.