You Are the Shell to My Tortoise | ✓

11

I'd been staring for some time when I was unpleasantly jolted out of my captivated enthrallment by my annoying—couldn't it wait?—bladder.

"I need to go to the toilet," I said, reluctantly getting up. "I'll be back soon."

Immediately, I regretted doing it; Natalie's giant fleece blanket had insulated me from the icy air, and now I only had my hoodie and jeans to protect me.

With their attention still focused on the stars, the others murmured their assent before I turned to leave.

Eager to return to the field, I found the nearest toilet and hurriedly went about my business. When I stepped out of the school building into the open air again, I shivered and shoved my freezing hands into my hoodie pocket again.

As I scurried across the field, looking for the other girls, I came across someone who was alone on one of the giant tarps. He stood out even more because he was sitting cross-legged, holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes, while everyone else—who was at least fifteen feet away from him—was lying on their backs.

Being the nosy parker that I was, I craned my neck to get a better look at this guy who was sitting all by himself. Unfortunately, in the instant that I did that, he lowered his binoculars and snapped his head in my direction.

Was I being that obvious?

To my absolute amazement, Nolan was staring back at me.

What was he even doing here? I had to know—I found my feet walking towards him even before I realized I was doing it.

"Hey!" I called out as I reached him.

"Hey." His eyebrows furrowed just the slightest bit as I stood before him.

His lap was covered by a giant comforter.

"You're here for the open event, too?" My mouth itched to say the next sentence that pestered my mind, so I blurted it out, "I'm kind of surprised to see you here."

"I'm a regular member," he said, dropping his binoculars to hang on his neck.

I gaped at him. "Seriously?"

I had a hard time imagining him as a serious member of any club we had in school. I mean, obviously he had his own interests, but I just...never even imagined that he had any.

I couldn't envision him getting along with his club members and all of them going out for lunch, either.

"Yeah," he said, slightly dragging the word out.

"When did you become a member?"

"About a year ago," he said. "You can sit if you aren't leaving. Don't block my view."

Oops.

"Sorry," I said, moving aside and sitting down. "Is that better?"

He looked like he was ready for me to leave, but I'd just learned the shocking news that he was in a club—an actual club that he seemed like he was committed to.

There was no better opportunity for me to ask him more questions until he snapped at me to leave him alone. He looked more awake than I'd ever seen him. I would never use the word lively to describe him, of course, but tonight he looked ... alert.

"Yeah." He looked back up at the sky.

"Why are you sitting alone?" I was aware that he was probably irritated by this point, but I had to ask. "Or, you know, why aren't you helping out?"

"Normal members don't have to run around helping out. Those you see volunteered for it."

"But I saw on the event flyer that your friendly members would be happy to teach us more about constellations."