Page 10 of Stardusted
“You think you’ll make it to class tomorrow?” I asked, reaching Faith and fumbling with the key. The automatic locks were out again; my mechanic brother said something about a relay. I didn’t know what that meant, but I heard dollar signs and mentally sobbed.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. We still meeting for coffee after your comp class?”
“Yep.” I finally got the door open, the hinges shrieking in protest. “Sounds good. Gotta run to the bank and dump this cash. I’ll catch you tomorrow. Drive safe.”
“You, too. And hey—don’t get abducted by any aliens on your way home.”
She laughed at my disgusted growl and hung up.
Shaking my head, I tossed my apron and purse into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel.And, because I was weak and apparently a glutton for punishment, I paused with the door open and glanced back toward Oasis.
No lights glowed in the second-story windows on the left side where Sky’s apartment was located. I didn’t think he was home. He’d vanished after the dinner rush and left the other bartender, Derek, to close. Not that I’d been watching.
Who was I kidding? Of course I had. I hadn’tstoppedwatching him.
Ever since the incident in the prep room, I’d been painfully aware of his presence across the restaurant. More so than normal. Not even the steady crush of customers had dulled the lingering embarrassment still simmering under my skin. Or the faint twinge of relief that’d followed when he’d left for the night, off to do whatever it was criminally attractive, alien-obsessed bartenders did after work.
“Well, it’s over now,” I whispered to myself as I started the car.Faith coughed in protest before the engine caught and rumbled to life.
Bestto put the whole night behind me. Including the world’s weirdest backroom chat with the guy I’d spent months fantasizing about. I was sure he’d already forgotten the girl whose name he couldn’t remember, anyway.
I adjusted the crooked rearview mirror and backed out of the space.
The tripto the bank took no time. But as I rounded the stretch leading to Cherry Street and the small apartment I rented above Bob’s garage, I groaned. Of course there would be a train tonight. And a parked one, no less. I knew from experience it could sit there for close to an hour before creeping forward. Thecross-guard lights blinked like taunting little eyes in red and yellow.
“Screw this.”
I glanced behind me—no cars—and threw Faith into reverse, executing a clunky three-point turn. Even the long way home through the back roads would be faster than waiting forever for the freight train. It wasn’t even eleven, but after tonight, I felt like I’d been awake for three days. I was ready for my bed and oblivion.
Houses gave way to open land while the radio played a throwback hit from last summer. I hummed along, tapping my fingers on the wheel. The familiar tune chipped away at my scowl. With the city lights fading behind me and the stars brightening overhead, I spotted the boxy shape of the Big Dipper easily. It hovered just above the tree line. I couldn’t help but smile.
My dad had always pointed out that constellation when I was little. It reminded me of him every single time I noticed it up there.
I’d grown up thirty minutes away in Maryville, a two-stoplight town whose biggest claim to fame was its grain mill. One Willow, with its mall, medical centers, and not one but two Walmarts, had been the nearest thing to civilization. My dad had worked on the military base there for years.
A large part of my childhood had been spent making the drive into One Willow, first for my fancy school, then my dad’s appointments…and after that, for his longer treatments.
Eventually, for the weeks he never came home.
After all this time, the ache that lived in my chest had softened into something gentler. Familiar. I adjusted my grip on the wheel, keeping one eye on the Big Dipper like I had as a kid riding shotgun.
When Amelia and I applied to The Willow University, I knew moving here was the right choice. Close enough to visit my family. Far enough to start over. Amelia had wanted me to move into her father-funded luxury apartment downtown, the one she’d fought him on and lost. I’d passed. I loved her, but I knew better than to test the roommate gods. Too many horror stories.
Besides, I needed my solitude. My space.
That’s when I’d found Bob’s ad in the local paper. A retired widower, he needed help with yard work and grocery runs. In return, he offered a discounted rate on the fully furnished garage apartment. It was too good to pass up.
Except when dumb trains got in the way.
The landscape outside my windows turned rural—clusters of trees, quiet fields, the occasional farmhouse. Faint glimmers of porch lights shone in the distance. My headlights skimmed golden corn stalks as I turned down 100E, a stretch of road so empty it felt like it existed outside time. Harvest season was in full swing, and soon these fields would be flat and barren.
I liked the city and its conveniences, but there was something peaceful about the country’s heavy quiet. It was its own kind of beautiful. At least it made the long way home enjoyable?—
My car speakers exploded in a burst of static so loud I yelped and instinctively lifted my foot off the gas. Light danced off my passenger window, there and then gone. Recovering, I checked my mirrors. No one behind me. Nothing at all besides fields and stars.
Just me on this lonely lane.Weird. I could’ve sworn I saw lights.
The static swelled again, and a garbled voice cut through the white noise. Impossible to make out, gone just as fast. Interference.
