Beyond City Limits (Under Revisions)

Chapter 2: POSSIBILITY

It's dark, but the headlights illuminate the park before us. It is mostly trees, but there is a path I can barely make out. Other than that, the rest of the surroundings are dark.

Andrew hops out of his glider, "Come on, I want to show you something."

Other than the smile he gave me when I hoped into his glider, he hadn't given anything away about what he wants to talk to me about. My mind travels a hundred miles a minute, thinking of everything he would want to say. Part of me is scared to hear it, but the other part makes my heart beat uneven.

The chilly night air pierces my arms under my sweater. Folding my arms close to my chest, I march after him. He doesn't check to see if I'm coming, and his confidence is annoying. Even after all this time apart, he still knows how to work me. He was the last person I let in and told my secrets.

Andrew steps off the path and cuts through the trees. I hesitant and check to see of anyone else is taking a walk. Lamps light the path every few paces. The woods swallow Andrew in its branches and darkness.

My feet follow on uneven ground. I try to ignore the growing anxiety. Where does Andrew want to take me?

After plowing through the underbrush, I find Andrew in a small clearing, resting on a boulder. His face is tilted up to the sky, and the moonlight kisses his cheek bones. Any tension that was between us is erased. His shoulders are drooped, his hands rest in his pockets, and there's a lazy smile blooming.

My eyes roam over the clearing. The cold, brisk air doesn't allow any flowers or high vegetation. The space is surrounded by towering walls of trees. Boulders and different collections of rocks are sprinkled around.

I feel isolated by the trees, almost trapped, but I also like that no one can see me. I am overcome with the desire to jump from the highest boulder, or play on the rocks, pretending that the grass is radioactive. Childish thoughts dance inside my head, things Andrew and I used to do. Standing by him makes me feel seven years old again.

"This is where I like to go when I need to clear my head, or when I get tired of it all." Though his mouth moves, his eyes venture from the sky.

"Why did you bring me here?" I ask and edge closer to him, almost like he is a wild animal I don't want to spook.

He scoots over and lets me lean on the boulder. I follow his gaze to the moon. It's full, and it dominates the sky, demanding to be seen. It spreads it's light out, the only time it can.

"I found it when I was taking pictures of the park. You should see it in the day time. When it's warmer, it is full of wild flowers. It's like my own slice of heaven." His voice is far away, losing himself in his memories. "But nights like these are my favorites."

"Why?" I whisper, still staring at the light.

"Because," He points slightly away from the moon. "I can almost see stars."

My eyes quicken to find them. I've heard stories about stars. People over a hundred years ago could sleep under them. They are always there, in the sky, waiting to be seen. But we almost killed the planet with toxic smog. We saved ourselves, but it wasn't the same. We lost our stars.

Sorrow and disappointment fill me when I can't spot them. For some reason, it makes my throat ache. As I search, Andrew's finger invades my vision. It guides me, and my breath hitches. A small white dot. It sits alone next to the moon, basking in the light, almost unnoticeable. My eyes burn, but I refuse to blink. It's so small. From everything I have studied and read about the stars lighting up the sky, I never imagined that they would be this small.