STARDUST ⭑ LUKE PATTERSON

fourteen

SHE STANDS AT THE EDGE OF THE GRASS, surprised at the color. Usually, it was dead. In the summertime, it was ridden with weeds. They never really did take care of their yard.

However, it was green, a lush green full of life and prosperity and promise. There were gardens of different flowers: roses, sunflowers, tulips. Emmy couldn't believe that this was her childhood house, but it was, and it was more alive than she had ever seen it.

At first, she thought her mom sold the house. She always assumed that her father walked out after she died. Her mom would have felt alone in an empty house. Camila would sell it and then there would've been no trace of the Rosarios.

Her mom's car was in the driveway. Same color. Same license plate. Her dad's wasn't.

"Hey."

"I hate you," she sighs. Emmy looks to her left to see none other than Luke.

"I know," he nods. "But I thought you could use a friend."

Emmy raises a brow. "Oh? We're friends now?"

"You're always gonna be my best friend, Em."

"Right." She clears her throat, watching the sprinkler drizzle over a batch of daisies. Those were always her favorite. "How'd you know I'd be here?"

"Like I said, you're my best friend."

Emmy always looks at Luke. There was just something so mesmerizing about it, but she hasn't been able to in quite a while--like really look at him. Each time he catches her, she'll look away.

Despite this, she turns her head. He's not looking at her (for once). This time his eyes are trained on the flowers, taking it all in. He was remembering how he'd pluck random flowers from his neighbor's yard to give to Emmy. Luke never did get it to her though. He threw it out before he met her. She wasn't an affectionate person anyways.

"I'm scared," she whispers. Luke's eyes meet hers.

"It's okay to be."

"I fought with both of them before I left for the Orpheum. Remember when I showed up at the studio at the crack of dawn? It's because I walked out." She looks down. "I am him, through and through. You were right."

"Don't say that."

"But you did."

A silence falls over them, two ghosts standing in the place of two star crossed best friends.

"I was wrong." Time slows again, as if it were in favor of the pair. If she were still alive, Emmy knows she would have stopped breathing. "If you were anything like your dad, running when things get hard, there's no way you'd be standing here right now. You're not him, Emmy. You're better."

"So, why do I keep messing up?" she asks quietly.

"People are bound to make mistakes. It's inevitable."

"Did I make a mistake the night we died?"

She said it, and as soon as she did, time slowed even further.

"No," Luke tells her. "I did."

Time stands still.

There was something so unbelievably amazing about Emerald Rosario and Luke Patterson. Most would chalk it up to love, but those who knew them knew better. It wasn't just a cluster of chemicals coursing through their bodies. Dopamine. Serotonin. It was more than that.

When the world first came to be, a star had to explode. Every particle in existence had to come from something, a star from the east, maybe even one in the north. There was stardust in the flowers dancing in the wind. There was some in the air, floating through your lungs and throughout your body.

It's everywhere--including Luke and Emmy.

The pair were from the same star. No matter how much distance lies between them, they'll be pulled together for eternity. The same matter that makes up her soul, makes up his.

And that is why they were literally made for each other.

Time resumes when another car clunks down the street, engine sputtering loudly. Two heads turn to the sound, Emmy's mouth going dry at the sight of it.

Her father's car pulls into the driveway, and he steps out. He's older now. His hair was gray with age, face creased with wrinkles, but his smile was the same.

"He's still here," she whispers in disbelief.

They watch as he reaches into the backseat. In his hands was a potted tree, skinny and fragile, but still standing tall. He grins to himself as he sets it in the front yard, hands on his waist and stature proud.

The front door swings open, Emmy's throat swelling with fear. Her mom steps out, and even if she was twenty five years older, she was more beautiful than ever. Camila's eyes were still the same. Dark brown, but as lively as the earth in her garden.

"What're you doing?" Camila questions.

Emmy's heart drops at the sight. Her mom looks over at Mr. Rosario with a suspicious stare. Nothing's changed. They're still the same.

"It's an apple tree!" he cheers. That smile...

Luke sees Emmy's eyes turn glassy.

"Angelo..."

"Emmy always loved apples."

The young girl's hand flies to her mouth, eyebrows furrowing.

"Yeah," Camila smiles, "she always did."

"Remember when she was just a baby trying to eat it with her gums?" Angelo reminisces. "So messy...never cleaned her room either. Messy, messy, messy." He shakes his head and Em could hear him sniffle from where she stood in the yard. She walks over to them and stands between them, not remembering what it was like to not have them yell over her. "Come help me plant it!"

"Emmy's not here anymore to eat the apples."

Angelo looks up from the ground, his eyes lined with tears. Em reaches for him, hand going right through.

"Alam ko yan." I know. Emmy falls to sit on the grass, welcoming the prickle of it. She looks up at them, like she was a little girl. "But she would have loved it."

Emmy always wondered why she couldn't show love properly--why it was so hard to hug another person, or even say those three words when she's never heard her parents say it. Then, she saw it: the acts of service. How her mom got the shovel anyways and they began to dig, planting her a tree of her favorite fruit.

She continues to watch them, crying silently as they work together. There was no yelling, only a simple silence as they maneuvered effortlessly around one another.

By the time they were patting the dirt, Emmy and Luke were sitting on the lawn. Her legs were pressed to her chest as she peers at her parents over her knees. Never in her twenty five years of death has she ever felt so warm.

Her parents stand beside the tree, Angelo's arm around Camila. He presses a chaste kiss to the side of her head and Emmy could feel it just the same, just the way he did whenever he came home and saw her.

"I love you," he tells his wife.

"Mahal din kita." I love you too, she says back.

"I love you guys," Emmy whispers, breathing out a cry of laughter. She beams at the two of them.

Her parents look up, tears evident on their face. "We love you too, anak."

Luke knows she's okay, from the way she smiles through the tears, but he still reaches out for her. He stands, hand stretched out to Emmy. She takes it, and is genuinely surprised when he brushes back a piece of lavender hair.

She's never felt more at home.