The Brightest Star in a Constellation

16: Instruction Manuals Are Useless

☆ Evan ☆

At the beginning of my grade ten year, and when my relationship with Claire was still fresh, she recruited me to help Jenny run for student council. It was nothing over-the-top, and most of the time all I had to do was passing out cupcakes with a paper topping that read, 'Vote for Durst: a candidate you can trust!' (She did not listen to me when I pointed out that didn't rhyme.)

Claire's task, although unofficial, was to bring her friend more votes. She was not very successful at this when she started, but once she focused on finding one person in a group who could continue championing for Jenny even after Claire was gone, the votes rolled in, and it became impossible to beat her.

I never thought I'd have to use that strategy, but given that I'm proposing myself as club Vice President, I need a plan of attack. Because, quite frankly, unless I get Peter and Nicole's vote of confidence, I'm not getting anywhere.

Perched over a blank sheet of paper and a collection of markers, I make my best attempt at a poster, scrawling the date underneath it and sighing. I've drawn a moon in the top left corner and a background filled with stars. Halfway through my highly important task, Elaine comes in to invade my room.

For fourteen years we have lived in this apartment, and for fourteen years my walls have remained unchanged. The bed, pushed against the wall, keeps me out of sight. Next to me is the dresser, stacked with schoolwork and a resin pendant trapping pine needles inside of its flat surface. It was included in one of Adrian's letters an eternity ago, a generic last-minute gift from the other side of the country.

Elaine picks up a stress ball from my floor and tosses it at me. It lands on the checkered bedsheets, clattering against the markers and sending them rolling away from me. "What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I point to the poster, and Elaine shrugs.

"Is this related to yesterday?" she asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Like, since when have you been a nerd? Astronomy Club? What the heck happened to you?"

I grab a black marker to trace over my pencil sketching, making it easier to read my handwriting. "It's better than soccer." My response comes out like a question, but Elaine doesn't seem to notice.

"Fair enough."

Earlier this morning, I cornered Randall before anyone else woke up. After I avoided the ask your mother tactic, he agreed to sign my permission slip as long as I play during next week's game. It isn't likely that the panthers will progress much further this season, so he's got a point.

I grab the stress ball and send it back towards Elaine. She fumbles to catch it, squeezing it between both hands. "Can I help?"

"Sure." I move aside to let her join me in colouring. Grabbing a pink marker, she carefully fills in the bubbly invitation.

Now all that's left to do is hand it out.

☆ ☽ ☆

"Good luck with practice, Cee. Remember: I was never here," I state as Claire leans over to kiss me on the cheek. She lingers for half a second, barely enough time to be notable. Rolling her eyes at me, she opens the door to her Mercedes and shoves me out of it.

"Get out. I don't want to catch the mystery sickness I'm going to tell Coach that you developed," she retorts.

"Tell him I've got the plague," I say flatly, and offer her a bright smile. "See you later."