The Evolution of the Stars

III

     I whip my head around, bringing half my body sailing with it. A large boy, probably nineteen, stands behind me. His skin is tan and he has large blue eyes, much like Macx, along with floppy brown hair. He's glaring at me, which is even more intimidating than his size.

     I lock gazes with this boy, but quickly look down, heat rushing to my cheeks.

     "You're glowing," he accuses, his voice deep and threatening. I look at my hands, and sure enough, a light blue glow is radiating from my skin.

I shove my hands under my thighs, concealing both my dry hands and the luminescent glow. "No," I snap.

     He rolls his eyes, as if he were arguing with a small child about something ridiculous, then focuses his piercing eyes on Macx, grumbling something under his breath. "C'mon, Macx," he grabs the little boy's arm.

     Macx wimpers, then starts yelling something in Spanish. "Basta! Basta! Déjame ir! Te odio!" I only recognize a few of the words. Stop, and hate.

"Hey!" I yell, standing up. "Stop it!" I grab his arm, trying to rip it away from Macx's shoulders.

     He stops, looking at me with his big, blue, piercing eyes, loosening his grip on the small boy before he throws Macx over his broad shoulders, walking off, me trailing behind him.

     "Stop it!" I yell for the thousandth time. "Jesus, would you put him down? What's your problem?" By now, Macx has his elbow propped on the large boy's back as his hand supports his chin. "I bet you're thirsty. I know Macx is. I've got a lot of water in my bag," I prompt, shaking my bag at the back of his head, for the sake of being dramatic.

     He ignores me and keeps walking, his steps unfaltering. By that, I'm guessing he does this a lot.

I roll my eyes, looking at Macx. He rolls his back at me, giving me his best 'what are you going to do, huh?' look. "Would you please, pretty, pretty please, just look at me?"

     Without turning his head in the slightest direction, or even pausing for a moment, he says, "God, do you ever just shut up?" This is only the second time I've heard him talk, and I'm suprised by how deep his voice is.

I quicken my pace so as I'm walking next to him. For every step he takes I have to take three, so I'm practically jogging. “No, actually, I don't. Now, if you would just stop walking for one second and we could talk about this—”

     "Are you just going to follow me home?" He sounds irritated and bored, which almost makes me yawn. Except my running my mouth at one hundred miles an hour made my heart rate skyrocket. Plus the jogging. I couldn't possibly yawn.

"Yes." I keep in pace with him, my legs getting tired. Then I groan. "How much further?"

     "If I was walking as fast as you were talking, I'd be there by now." He bites, His voice bitter. "Who are you, anyway?"

I stay silent for a moment, debating my answers. Of course, genius me chooses the one most likely to get me slapped for being so rude. "I could as you the same thing, Goliath." I mutter the 'Goliath' part under my breath, hoping he didn't hear me.

     He tips his head to the side, just the smallest amount, then without even a hint of annoyance, maybe even a slight hint of humor in his voice, he retorts, "That's a bit rude, Glowstar."

     I raise my eyebrows at him, stopping in my tracks. "Glowstar?"

"Yep," he pops the 'p'. "Glowstar. Have you looked at you skin lately? You look like the product of a fairy and a smurf," he laughs.

     I bring my hands into view, watching as they radiate. The blue is darker now, and even brighter a glow. I laugh back, hoping he can't tell that its forced.

The worst part is, is that he's right. "Where are we going, anyways?"

     He glares at me through the corner of his eye. "We aren't going anywhere. Macx and I, however are traveling," he says traveling as if he is walking to an airport, waiting to get on a private jet, so as that he can go to some exotic place souh of Mexico.

"It's a package deal. I'm good with kids. Take Macx for an example. You carry him like he's full of potatoes. You take me somewhere away from here, and I take care of Macx." I shrug, talking as if Macx is a puppy, or a sack of flour assigned by his fourth grade teacher.

He ignores me. "Who are you, anyways, Glowstar? What's your name? Your story, maybe. Where'd you come from?" He speaks casually, smoothly.

     "You act like you run into glowing girls everyday. And I could ask you the same thing, Beefy." I releat for the secomd time, giving him a nickname of my own.

     He laughs, obviously inhaling spit,  because he starts coughing and sputtering, still choking out laughs. "B-Beefy?" He sputters.

My cheeks flush. "W-why don't you put him down?" I ask, refferimg to Macx.

     He nods, grabbing Macx's waist and hauling him over his shoulder. It takes Macx a minute to regain his balance, but he's soon at my heals.

     "But seriously," The boy — correction, Beefy — says. "what's your name?"

"What's yours?" I counter back, maybe with just a little sass. Or hostility. You know, whichever. Or both.

     He rolls his eyes at my childishness. "I'm serious. If you're tagging along for god knows how long, I at least want to know your name."

"Aster," I mutter. He looks at me expectantly, as if what I had said was a terrible joke. "I'm serious!" I exclaim, the pitch of my voice raising a few octaves.

"Aster?" He repeats. "Who names their kid Aster?" He stiffles a laugh.

     Macx jumps to my rescue. "Who names their kid Marco?" He lowers his voice, mocking Beefy.

"Hey!" Beefy prods at Macx's ribcage. "I'll have you know, little man, Marco is a family name. It was my papi's. Your name was what I called my first mutt!"

     Macx scowls at him, then faces me. "His name is Marco. And for the record," he makes sure to glare at the back of Marco's head as his says this. "I think Aster is a pretty name."

     I reach down and ruffle Macx's dark and dirty hair. "Thanks, kiddo. I appreciate it."

"Suck up," I hear Marco mutter under his breath, then disguise it with an obviously fake cough.