Meliorism

Running Out of Stars

Everybody was heading home. It had been a great night, and Zach had met a lot of great people. The noise of the concert seemed like a distant thing now, as if it hadn't really happened, as if the concert were just a figment of Zach's imagination. But the throbbing that remained in his head was enough evidence that the night had passed and that that night, he had met the girl who could and would lead him to his stars.

He started to walk home. The streets were already deserted; most of the people were already at their respective houses. It wasn't particularly chilly--in fact, it was hot. Zach had no one to walk with--his best friends had already gone home--so he just decided to fidget with the phone in his pocket, hoping that with some miracle the girl would call him. He was grinning in a goofy way, and he couldn't make it come off his face.

In retrospect, it seemed a bit like an incident. Zach was walking with his two best friends and they were talking about a lot of stuff. They sat down on the wet grass, and they watched the concert from afar. Concerts had always been their thing. They'd been to a lot, and this one didn't appear as magical as the other concerts they'd been to. They didn't feel like joining the crowd; they just felt like sitting away from it, listening to the live music blaring from the speakers.

Beth, Zach's only girl best friend, excused herself, saying "she had somewhere to be." Marc and Zach laughed. They knew exactly where she was going--to the backstage, where her boyfriend, the stage manager, was waiting for her. She was just too shy to tell them she'd found herself a boy.

“Well, this one’s not as dreamy as Warped,” Marc, Zach’s only boy best friend, stated.

Zach nodded slowly in agreement. “We get free water, though, if that’s anything.”

Marc just snickered. “I just want to go home. I’ve seen this band a lot of times anyway.” He nodded toward the stage. “Plus the crowd’s wretched. Screaming fourteen-year-old teenagers. Emotional nutjobs. Hipster kids. Pathetic ones.”

Then there was a moment of silence.

“Then go.” Zach looked at him. The only reason they were there was because Beth forced them to. Zach said yes immediately; he didn’t have anything to do, and a concert sounded nice. Marc was reluctant. He didn’t want to go. But for the sake of his only best friends, he did.

“You sure?” Marc turned around so that he was facing Zach entirely. “You can endure a night without me?” He winked suggestively. He was already standing up, brushing his pants.

Zach chuckled. “Yeah, I can.”

“Thanks, bro.” He patted Zach’s shoulder and walked towards the gates. Actually, no—he galloped towards the gates like a delightful child about to get ice cream. Zach later would learn that it was for a reason—that he, like Beth, wanted to meet the girl he was dating—a girl he met at a certain rock show.

So now Zach was all alone. In all the sense of the word, he was alone. He was just sitting there, occasionally staring up at the sky, hoping that he’d see stars. But July stars were almost always impossible. If you wanted to stargaze, you’d have to do it in January. Not the summer. The summer, for kids like Zach, meant losses. The summer meant being alone. He just wanted to see the stars, really, but even that, the universe couldn’t give him.

After a while, he decided to stand up. He looked at the merch tent and saw that no one was there, so he took the chance and walked towards it. He still had money, and who knew--maybe he could score one of those limited edition shirts.

He scanned the stuff lined on the table. There were albums, which he had; there were ballers, which were out of the fashion; there were posters, which he had, too. And there was the limited-edition shirt. He decided to grab for it before someone else did.

Well, someone else had grabbed the shirt before he did.

Zach looked up. A girl had her hands on the shirt. She wasn’t really tall; she was a few inches below Zach. She had brown hair and brown eyes, and she had freckles on her nose. She smelled vaguely of roses, too.

“Oh,” she said, realizing Zach also had his hands on the shirt. “No, you take the shirt.”

Zach shook his head. “No, you do. It’s okay, really.”

“I insist.” She handed him the shirt and smiled. So he took it, paid for it, and decided not to start an argument.

The girl was already walking away when Zach decided that what he did wasn’t exactly gentlemanly. He knew he had to make up for it. So he ran after the girl and grabbed her shoulders—not too aggressively, it might be necessary to add.

“I got your shirt,” Zach said, gesturing toward his backpack. “Let me make it up to you.”

She just smiled for a while, looking at him. It was as if she had no idea what he was talking about. After a few seconds she nodded, saying, “I’d love to.”

So they went toward one of the tents and bought a lot of food. They talked about stuff—what bands the girl wanted to see, where Zach lived—that sort of unnecessary conversation. After they’d decided that they were full, the girl led Zach to a remote part of the concert venue.

“What are we doing here?” he asked. He was skeptical at first, but then he saw the smile on her face. It looked genuine. It looked like something Zach had hoped for.

“Don’t worry. I’m not a serial killer,” the girl said jokingly.

They sat on a patch of grass. They laid their things on the grass and stayed there for a while without a word uttered—just the rhythmic sound of their breaths and the music coming from the stage.

“I don’t know your name yet,” he stated when it had become too quiet.

“It’s Evie,” she replied, still staring at the nothingness in front of her. “And yours?”

“Zach,” he replied. “Why’d you take me here, Evie?”

Evie, at that point, decided to look at Zach directly. “Look at the sky.”

He did, and Zach was awe-struck. There were now a few stars up there. Just a few moments ago the sky was empty; now it was dotted with tiny freckles that light up. Even if the moon was nowhere to be seen, from this point of view, the sky looked perfect.

“There’re stars,” Zach stated, still amazed. “It’s July and there are stars.”

Evie laughed. “I knew you’d like stars. I know a person who likes stars when I see one. You’re one of the few people who care about the sky. This is the secret, Zach.”

Zach looked at her, his eyebrows raised.

“There are always stars in the sky. You just have to be from the right point of view to see them. So if ever you’re feeling sad, whenever your stars are out, remember that somewhere, these stars are hidden. They never run out. You just have to look for them.”

“Is that the secret?” Zach asked.

Evie nodded slowly. “Yes. There are lots of secrets, but that’s the most important one.”

After that conversation, they stayed quiet. They shared small talk. They talked about the weather, but not the significance of it. They talked about concerts, but not how it could help teenagers. They talked about the ocean, too, but not how it’s vast and endless.

When the night had ended, Evie decided to stand up. Zach gave her his number and told her to call him when she could. Evie just grinned—not a genuine one—and walked away.

So now, as Zach was walking down the street towards home, he glanced at the sky. There were no stars; there was just the moon and the few lazy clouds covering it. He knew, though, that somewhere out there, his stars are shining. With that thought in mind, he knew that he would never have to be alone again.