The Haunted - Jessica Verday [69]
“Surprise me anytime.” I turned to the bed and sat on the edge, patting the space next to me. “Let’s look at the stars.”
Without waiting for him, I lay down with my feet toward the headboard and my head near the bottom of the bed.
Moments later he joined me, lying carefully next to me.
I flattened my hands out and felt the cool cotton beneath my palms. Neither of us spoke, and I concentrated on keeping my breathing normal. The stars glowed a steady green above us.
But I didn’t want him to think that I was ignoring him, so I said again, “Where did you get them all? There are soooo many.”
His voice was low. “I found like fifty packages in a huge bag at the Salvation Army. Some fast-food place must have been giving them away in kids’ meals or something. I felt kind of bad about taking them, but I figured they were donated for someone to use, right? And I had a use for them.”
My eyes traced a path from one star to the next, and I started to see shapes and patterns.
“I can’t believe you did this for me, Caspian. Now every night when I’m in bed I’ll think of you.”
“That’s what I was hoping for,” he said. “For you to dream of me.”
“Look,” I said, directing the conversation away from that topic. “A shooting star.”
“I see,” said Caspian. “Right next to the Big Dipper over there.”
“Where?”
He pointed to a clump of stars. “There. You just have to do some creative rearranging with your eyes.”
“Ohhh, is that what it’s called?”
“Yeah. It’s right next to that line of stars. What are those three in a row called?”
“Orion’s Belt?”
“That’s it.” He tilted his head. “Although, it looks more like Orion’s toga to me. See how they kind of trail up and out?”
Laughing, I said. “Orion’s toga? I’ve never heard of that one. What about Orion’s cape?” He grinned at me, and even in the darkness I could still see the vibrant green of his eyes.
“Yup, that’s right there along with the slightly less famous—but still featured on Jeop-ardy!—Orion’s bathrobe.”
We shared a smile, and then I shifted so I could prop my head up on my hand. “Tell me a story,” I whispered. “A secret. Something you’ve never told anyone else.” His face turned blank, unreadable. Then he turned to me. “When I was little, I thought I could fly. My aunt took me to this rehearsal for a play she was helping out with—I think they were doing Arabian Nights—and I climbed up on this big floating carpet that was there as a prop.
“I remember it distinctly. I sat on this carpet and folded my arms genie style, while repeating ‘ALASHAZAM,’ and then the carpet started moving. It probably should have freaked me out or something, but it didn’t. And I just… floated… back and forth.” His story made my heart give a little sigh. It wasn’t a sad story by any means, but there was something about the way he told it. Something about getting a glimpse of the boy he used to be that made me want to go back in time and see it for myself.
“Now that I’m older, I realize that the carpet was on a moving platform, or wheels or something,” he said. “But back then? It was the greatest feeling in the world. I was flying.” His smile grew wistful, and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he said, “Now it’s your turn. Tell me a secret.” I didn’t really have any secrets. Sure, there was silly stuff, like stuffing my bra with socks when I was twelve, or having a crush on my teacher in fifth grade. But that all felt too small and trivial for this moment.
Then I thought about Kristen.
She’d certainly kept secrets. A boyfriend she purposely didn’t tell me about. Conversations with him behind my back. All those times she was hanging out with me, when she really wanted to be with him.
I didn’t have any of those kinds of secrets. But there was one thing.…
I began slowly. “When I was nine or ten, I was waiting for Kristen in her yard. She was at the dentist, so she wasn’t home yet, but there were these kids playing in the next yard over. A bunch of neighborhood kids.”
My stomach started churning. I hadn’t thought about this memory in a long