Page 61 of Only Some Stars Fall

It killed me to say what I said to her, to watch her whole body crumble in front of me. The physical anguish I felt at hurting her like that, leaving her standing there, heartbroken as I just walked away with my own heart turning to ash? Unbearable.

I have to tell myself that it was the right decision to try to cut her loose. My life is too fucked up. I mean, look at it. Right now, I am out stomping around the woods looking for my father, who could be anywhere or seriously hurt, all because he thinks my dead brother is out here playing camp. This isn’t one of her movies, and we aren’t magically going to find some way to make everything work. She needs to go back to the city, and I sure as hell shouldn’t be the reason to derail her life.

That doesn’t change how badly my body aches for her with every step I take. I never thought I would make the same mistake Storm did. I didn’t think I would be stupid enough to fall in love with a doe-eyed, high-strung, clumsy, sensitive, and insanely caring college sophomore who is only up here to help out and have fun for the summer.

But here I am, wishing like hell I could change the outcome of our story.

I have been out herefor almost two days, and there is no evidence of him. I make it to the river bank just as I lose the last of the gray, misty sunlight that hasn’t seemed to change all day. The only positive thing is the rain seems to have stopped, at least for now. I rinse my face in the river, remove my soakedclothes, and start a small fire. It takes a while to get a spark going, but eventually, I have big enough flames to warm myself up and, hopefully, dry some of my clothes. I make dinner with the pocket-size hiking stove I packed and hope the rain holds off so I can get some sleep.

Tomorrow, I will head up the river and pray that I find some sign of my dad. He should have been on his way back, and it’s making me anxious that he would still be this far out unless something was seriously wrong. I push the uneasy feeling down, determined not to let my brain go there, and I finish cleaning up my dinner.

I pull out my phone, but of course, there is no service, and all I see are the letters SOS in the top right corner of the screen. I type out a message to Everly anyway.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

I push send, but the message immediately turns red and displays,failed to send. Probably for the best, and I appreciate the irony. I don’t need to confuse her anymore. I laugh to myself when I think of her reaction to me saying “I love you” for the first time over text message. It would be full of sass, and I’m sure it would be amusing if I had enough service to receive it. I look up at the night sky, but there are no stars tonight, just a deep black abyss.

It’s late afternoon,and I feel like I have been along this riverbank for years. The rain has started again, a never-ending steady drizzle keeping me soaked to the bone. My mind is catching up with my exhausted body, and the fear is pushing in hard now. I don’t want to give up, and I can’t leave another family member in these desolate woods.

There is a good chance my dad has already shown up back at home. There is no way to know if he stuck to this map or had seen something that triggered him to go a different way.

Wouldn’t that prove my mother right, that I had been hasty to come out here alone instead of leaving it up to the professionals. She already had two of the men she loved out here missing, but selfishly, I needed the space. She begged me not to be the third. What an ass I have been.

I see a point up ahead with some rapids swirling around the rocky, sharp edges. I stop and stare, completely drained. I think this is it. I’ll get to that point in hopes that I’ll be able to see far enough up the river, and if there is no sign of him, it’s time I turn back.

Mom has most likely called in the wardens or some kind of rescue by now. When talking me out of it failed, she warned me that if I wasn’t back soon, she’d call the wardens.

“Where are you, Dad?” I say out loud, half expecting him to come out of the woods, zipping up his fly and asking if I had caught dinner yet. I regret how angry I have been with him over the last two years. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like to lose a child. Then there’s me, the only son he has left, and instead of being there for him, I’ve repeatedly pushed him away.

I scramble across loose rocks as I reach the point, and right as I crest the steep incline, a bald eagle swoops down into the rapids beside me. Wings outstretched, it lifts a large fish from the water, sharp talons piercing it.

My eyes glaze over with tears. Being out here, in such anemotionally desperate state, I am reminded of how small we all are and how magnificent this secluded land is—reminded of how lucky I am to have been raised here. To have been taught the ways of the land, and to share the same love for nature with my brother and father.

I miss them. I miss how it all used to be.

A guttural scream escapes my lungs and my body collapses. I sob into my hands, something I haven’t done since I was a child. I have wasted so much time being angry with everyone. I wasted time with my brother when I didn’t know it was going to run out so soon, wasted time with my dad when he could have needed my support the most, and with Everly, who came here and saw something in me I didn’t even see in myself.

When I get back, I’ll figure out a way to fix it. I will fight for her. People make all kinds of situations work in tougher circumstances. We can find a way.

I drag my hands down my face, wiping the tears and taking a breath. I’m physically and mentally exhausted, but that’s when I see it.

Smoke. Downstream, a small fire, maybe. I immediately feel hope course through my veins. Proof of life: someone was recently there. I don’t know if it’s my dad, but I move toward the smoke as fast as my legs can carry me.

TWENTY-NINE

EVERLY

I’m sittingon the glassed-in front porch of Mr. Croft’s house. I love this three-season deck and am sad I didn’t spend as much time on it this summer as I would have liked. I finished my last shift at Anderson’s about an hour ago, which felt bittersweet, considering how my first shift went. In just a few days, Alex and I are driving back to Boston, and then she’ll be headed on to California.

In some ways, it feels like this summer just began; in other ways, it feels like my old life never existed. Sitting here, I’ve been reading and rereading the same paragraph of my book over and over, my mind replaying the last three months and, more specifically, the last two days.

Since Hux left me crying at that party, I have run the gamut of emotions. I’ve been devastated, furious, guilty, and floating somewhere between heartbroken and numb. There is even a bit of relief mixed in there—relief that I didn’t have to be the one to leave first, but, in the end, that makes me feel likea coward, which starts the whole guilt cycle over again. I should have tried harder, and I should have blurted out my feelings long before Hannah and Josh came to town.

All those emotions don’t seem to matter much anymore though, because for the last twelve hours, the only emotion I have felt is fear.

I was finishing my shift yesterday when Elle came looking for me in the supply room. I was folding towels still warm from the dryer when she asked if I had heard about Hux. The panic that flashed across my face must have told her I had not and was in the dark. I’d assumed he was actively avoiding me, making himself scarce until he knew I had punched out on Anderson’s time clock for the last time.

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