Amalli Quinn: The Nature of Stars

Kitten

Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, depression

   "Aren't you scared?"

   "Scared? Of what?"

   James pointed around. "This. It's incredibly dark."

   I followed the motion of his finger, smiling. "I like the dark. It makes the stars appear clearer."

   We walked on, feeling the wind whip onto our faces. The rain had ended half an hour ago, but the wind still held this residual dampness and humidity that warned of more showers to come. We left the field and advanced onto a patch of long grass that swept and swayed in the breeze. Paired with the dim moonlight and the empty trees just a few yards away, it looked like the perfect place to shoot a scene for a horror film.

   James looked up and squinted  "I don't see a lot of stars." he made a clacking sound with his tongue.

   I snorted. "Look harder, city boy."

   "I still don't see any."

   "Stop walking for a moment. Your eyes are probably still too used to light pollution. Give a moment and you'll start seeing them."

   James huffed, slinging his bag off and sitting down. The grass was tall enough to hide half of his upper torso, brushing against his sides and slowly but surely wetting his jeans. "How long do I do this?"

   I shrugged and checked my phone for the time. 6:19. "It depends, I guess." I sat down beside him and looked up. "Do you recognize any constellations?"

   "Uh," he smiled sheepishly. "I don't really–"

   "You don't. Okay." I pointed at a group of twinkling points up in the dark sky. "That's Orion."

   "Which one?"

   "The one that looks like two trapezoids put together. It's the first constellation I learned about as a kid. It's also the most noticeable for me."

   "Yeah," he squinted even more. "Yeah, I can see it."

   "You see the three stars forming a diagonal line down the middle? Those form Orion's belt. If you follow their direction, you can find Sirius a little to the left."

   "Sirius?"

   "The brightest star in the sky, part of Canis Major."

   "I guess you're very Sirius about your astronomy." he smirked, looking in my direction.

   I gave him a very unimpressed look. "I've heard that joke far too many times before." It didn't hide the fact that a tiny smile spread on my lips just a second later.

   We spent quite a while like that, sat in the grass like two kids, watching the burning pinpoints of gas suspended like fairy lights in the navy blue of the sky. Our bottoms were soaked with leftover rainwater in the soil, fresh and damp like the wind that blew. I pointed at two more constellations, teaching James about the little I knew about stars and their ways. He seemed interested enough to not change the topic whenever I finished discussing the properties of one star, but only nodded each time I looked at him.

   A rather comfortable silence ensued. And then, "Make a wish."

   I shifted my gaze from the sky to James' face. "What?"

   "There." he pointed close to the horizon, which was obscured by the line of trees. "There was a shooting star there."

   "You still believe in stuff like that?"