When The Stars Align

Chapter 11: Constellations in the Woods

Are we still on for tonight? -Lane

Lane's message is the thing that wakes me up. My phone buzzes on my chest from where it fell when I fell asleep last night, texting Willow. I blink the sleep from my eyes and sit up groggily. Outside a bird chirps and the sun streams in through my thin curtain.

Quickly reading Lane's text I respond and hop up, feeling refreshed and happy. Plugging my phone into my iHome sound system, I turn on a random radio station, dancing and singing along as I get ready. Opening my window, I feel that it is pretty warm outside and dress accordingly, pulling on white shorts and a black tank top. I then go to brush my hair, but get distracted when Blank Space comes on. Using my hairbrush as a microphone, I do the totally cliche thing that all girls do in the movies. Flipping my hair Taylor Swift style, I sing along, lost in the moment until I hear a voice calling out my name. 

Turning down my music, I look around, seeing no one until the voice calls out my name again. Peering out the window, I see Lane with his hair messy and shirt wrinkled from sleep. My cheeks instantly turn bright red as Lane laughs at me.

"I'm trying to sleep, if you don't mind," he jokes, still chuckling at my teenage moment. 

I open my mouth to respond snappily, but he shut his window. He shut his window! I open my mouth in surprise, then recover and stick my tongue out at his retreating figure. He spots it and sticks his tongue out at me too. I roll my eyes and, with a huff, turn around and return to my jamming session, this time with my window closed.

Later that day I'm lounging around the house in a tee-shirt and sweatpants, having a Disney movie marathon, eating Honeycomb out of the box, and feeling like a sloth. So when Willow texts and asks if I want to hang out I immediately agree.

Running upstairs I run a brush through my hair, throw on yoga pants and a tank top and sprint out the door where Willow's convertible is already waiting. Willow is leaning against the shiny car, arms crossed over her chest, looking very intently at her phone.

"What are we doing today?" I wonder aloud, startling Willow. She looks up with wide eyes, then smiles at me.

"Well, I figured we could have a little spa day," she starts, stuffing her phone into her back pocket and opening her car door. I follow suit and step into the abnormally clean car. Then, in one swift motion Willow puts the car into reverse and speeds out of my cozy little neighborhood. We speed past house after house, no doubt going 20 over the speed limit. I stare out the window at the passing houses, feeling comfortable in the silence, until they eventually turn into trees. 

I turn my head and look over at Willow, who is humming along softly to the radio, her fingers drumming along as well. I reach over and turn up the music as a new song comes on. Uma Thurman by Fall Out Boy comes on and I smile as Willow puts the top down on the car. My hair whips wildly around my face, combing through it with its fingers. I giggle and sing along at the top of my lungs alongside Willow, having my second teenage tv moment.?

By the time we finally pull into the small strip mall our hair probably look?s like it's been through a mini tornado and our throats are both rough and scratchy. We strut throu/gh the main entrance and start towards Haley's Nail and Spa, which Willow informed me was the best place for spa days.

But I get immediately distracted when I spot a hobby store tucked into the far corner of the mall. Grabbing Willow, I drag her to the small shop, despite her protests. We walk through the opening of the store and a short man greets us from the counter. I run my hand over the racks of objects, fascinated, but still not quite sure why I'm here. I keep wandering, stopping occasionally to observe different trinkets.