Beside

38 - gravity

"What do you think stars are made of?"

"Fire."

"I think they're made of glitter! Can we go to space? And how does the moon follow us everywhere?"

"It doesn't. It's really far away."

"No, it's following! I can feel it. Do you think the moon gets lonely up there by itself?"

"It's got the glitter stars for friends, Jellybean."

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

F O X

The dark quiet of the city is all wrong.

I'm running through the deserted streets, legs pushing, each hit against the pavement matching the pound of my heart.

Three days since Noah's speech.

Three days since Chris looked at me like I might have something to offer her.

The night after the Thesis Masterpiece/Clusterfuck, I went to the gym. I pummeled the bag until my hands throbbed. I slept there, lying on the floor.

But I saw Chris the next morning and I swear it was like a fist tightening around my heart. She was making breakfast with Noah, handing him eggs, handing him butter.

I didn't stay for long that day—Cam dragged me back to Skyfall. We went out early, back to the gym, back to run drills. She's been arranging my big match with a fighter called Angel.

My feet hit the pavement harder, faster, like I can leave it all behind. I round the block, take another lap, but then I'm back at the apartment with sweat dripping down my back.

I make my way inside with my key card, and up the elevator, my footsteps echoing in the silence. No one's up. They never are.

Inside our apartment, it's dark. The lot of us are sleeping. There's not a sound.

I head for the shower, stand under the water, feeling it pound against my skin. I lean my head against the tiles, let the water run over my neck, and try to think. But that doesn't work either.

I should let her go—fuck, I should walk out of here and never look back, save everyone from getting too close to me. But something selfish has its hold on me, gripping so hard it feels like I'd split in half if I left.

I get out, dry off, get dressed, and fall into bed. My room is cold, the walls grey and empty.

Everyone's asleep. They're always asleep. I sleep too, or maybe I don't.

Morning comes and Cam bangs on my door. "Let's go, Freckles! Angels and Devils await!"

So I go. She runs me ragged, pushes my body to every limit I have, but leaves my heart alone. There's no sappy shit as she hits me in the ribs.

That evening, when I try to steal away to my room, Cam grabs my elbow and eyes me. It's her no fucking way you're abandoning us tonight look. And either she's done so much for me that I nod, or I'm too tired to pull away.

We all end up in the living room, Cam lying flat on the couch with her legs slung over the armrest, entranced by The Truman Show. Noah's on the floor, pulling out notes from his speech, muttering something about how half the profs missed the whole point.

I nearly roll my eyes. I'm sure his reputation will be fine.

I'm on the other end of the couch with Charlie in my lap. His weight is warm. He's getting old, this guy. Grey around the mouth and breath that would kill a maggot. But he's a part of us.