The End of Our Stars

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

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I walked with Isaac outside and how odd is it now because I didn’t need to walk with Isaac because he wasn’t blind anymore but I just…I really find the night too beautiful right now. And if we stayed inside the house, Mom will stop at nothing to hover over us. I can’t have that anymore.

It’s humiliating. And I feel so embarrassed that I can’t seem to talk with Isaac.

Thankfully, Isaac wasn’t a typical boy who would just walk with me awkwardly. “Okay, you really have to talk to me or else we’d be trapped in this state of weird friendship-ness as if we just friend-zoned each other.”

I laughed now and almost lost my grip of Phillip. “I’m sorry.” I said. “I’m sorry about what happened back there, for my mom, for everything. I’m even sorry for the mac and cheese.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassures me. “I actually miss playing the part of a good boyfriend trying to impress the Parents.”

I raised my eyebrows at him; not in the ‘I-think-you-caught-me-off-guard’ manner but in a ‘have-you-seriously-done-that’ kind of way. But Isaac seemed bashful after he said it and desperately tried to take it back.

“Not like I’m trying to be a good boyfriend—well, I am, but, just, you know, a boy double space friend—” I figured he would keep talking like that, nervous, over thinking and everything so I laughed again. “I’m sorry,” he chuckled too and looked up. “Gus would face-palm right now because of everything I just tried to say.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He definitely would.”

“Oh by the way,” he pipes up again, back to Isaac-mode. “This friend of mine—called the Internet—just told me—in an Ad—that there’d be a gallery opening near the church with all these important people and I thought we should go.”

“Ooh, sounds classy,” I tell him and he smiles till I asked. “But how do we know which people are important and which are not?”

“I don’t know,” Isaac shrugs. “Let’s judge by the way they dress.”

“Or the way they look down at people,”

“Or the way they laugh, you know, the ridiculous fake ones,”

“Or the way they drink wine—”

“Oh! Speaking of drinking, forgot to mention; there will be booze.”

I perked up at the sound of that. I never had a drink but then again, I just mentioned wine. Wines and champagnes do not count. I need real booze. By the way Isaac smiled at me, I guess, my face just fell.

“Don’t worry, Hazel,” he laughs. “I’d bring booze-booze if you want.”

“Really, you would do that?” I demanded in disbelief and he nodded eagerly. At that moment, I thought how true a friend Isaac is to me. “Thanks, Isaac.”

“Anything for my dead best friend’s girlfriend,”

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Mom let me go to the gallery opening. I guess she heard that Patrick will be there and I gave her no hint that Isaac and I would have real fun. And really, how would she know?

When we got there, I was surprised to find that many people and asked myself; when did Indiana became so populated? They all look as important as Isaac promised and it was hard to tell which gallery-crashers were and which were meant to be there.