facing outward and stares at everything but us. Alone with me and Wick, Star gradually stops crying. She goes limp to say she’s accepted her fate. I guide her to lie down, and we face each other on the mattress.
“ You can be damned sure I’m staying tonight,” I whisper to Star, “and I’m not going to hide it.” The room is warm enough now to make me sweat. I take off my coat and throw it at the wall. Lying back down, I tilt my forehead toward hers in silence. There’s nothing to say. We both know how devastated the other is. I can feel it in the way she trembles. She can feel it in how tenderly I hold her hand.
“You can’t stay up all night,” I whisper.
“I want to,” she whispers. “It’s the last time—”
“No it’s not,” I say. It comes out more harshly than I wanted it to, and Star winces. I run my thumb over her fingers to soothe her. “You have no idea what’s going to happen on the other side of the Frontier. You need to be as well rested as possible.”
It’s the truth, and she knows it.
“At least close your eyes,” I whisper. “For me?”
“For you,” she whispers. She closes her eyes, and this pushes out a nother tear. I watch it drip down her cheek and onto the mattress. Wick coughs. I stare at Star, my Starlight. I kiss her lightly on the nose and remember the last time we kissed on the lips. The only time. My stomach tightens when I remember how it went horribly wrong.
It happened the day Mrs. Windsong trusted Sta r with her first hunting knife, now Star’s weapon of choice. We were fourteen years old and had spent almost every waking hour together for the past three years. As I got older, I started to think about touching her. Kissing her neck. Running my hand up her thigh.
That afternoon, we took a trip to practice with her knife. It’s exactly the length of my hand from palm to fingertip. Came in a thick, brown sheath that made her smile because it was hers. Star and I followed a flock of sparrows to the old Washington Monument, where we ran into a group of Shadows. Five teenagers in leather jackets with shoulder pads crouched beside two freshly shot grizzly bears. I’d never seen a Shadow before, but I knew them from the black charcoal rubbed around their eyes. One of them leered at Star.
“Hey, pretty lady,” he said.
I was about to push her behind me when she threw her knife at him. It was going to sail right past him when he grabbed it out of the air. He just reached to his side and grabbed the knife by the handle. After that, no one moved. The Shadow dropped the knife, and they left us and the bear corpses without making a sound.
I don’t know why, but that’s when I decided to kiss her. I had never kissed anyone before, and I didn’t know how to do it. Still don’t. My lips tried to move, but every touch felt awkward. When it was over, neither one of us felt good. She would never say as much, but afterward she didn’t meet my eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. The timing must have been off. We had almost just gotten killed. I mean, they were Shadows. I don’t know what I was thinking.
Since then, we haven’t tried. I swore to myself I wouldn’t kiss her again until she was happy and safe. I’m still waiting for that moment. Sure, she’s been happy, and she’s been safe, but never happy or safe enough for a kiss to feel quite right. We’ve both wanted to—and I’ve dreamt of doing so much more—but I’m still waiting for that moment. Now, I’ll never be able to kiss her. Tonight, she isn’t happy, and she has never been less safe. Tomorrow, she’s gone.
When Star’s muscles finally relax into sleep, my chest clenches on the brink of shaking with sobs. I can’t remember the last time I cried, and if Star saw me now, it would destroy her. This can’t be her last memory of me. I have to leave. I roll carefully off the mattress and my hands slip out of hers. I take one last look at her lying like an angel, and I have to slip
“ You can be damned sure I’m staying tonight,” I whisper to Star, “and I’m not going to hide it.” The room is warm enough now to make me sweat. I take off my coat and throw it at the wall. Lying back down, I tilt my forehead toward hers in silence. There’s nothing to say. We both know how devastated the other is. I can feel it in the way she trembles. She can feel it in how tenderly I hold her hand.
“You can’t stay up all night,” I whisper.
“I want to,” she whispers. “It’s the last time—”
“No it’s not,” I say. It comes out more harshly than I wanted it to, and Star winces. I run my thumb over her fingers to soothe her. “You have no idea what’s going to happen on the other side of the Frontier. You need to be as well rested as possible.”
It’s the truth, and she knows it.
“At least close your eyes,” I whisper. “For me?”
“For you,” she whispers. She closes her eyes, and this pushes out a nother tear. I watch it drip down her cheek and onto the mattress. Wick coughs. I stare at Star, my Starlight. I kiss her lightly on the nose and remember the last time we kissed on the lips. The only time. My stomach tightens when I remember how it went horribly wrong.
It happened the day Mrs. Windsong trusted Sta r with her first hunting knife, now Star’s weapon of choice. We were fourteen years old and had spent almost every waking hour together for the past three years. As I got older, I started to think about touching her. Kissing her neck. Running my hand up her thigh.
That afternoon, we took a trip to practice with her knife. It’s exactly the length of my hand from palm to fingertip. Came in a thick, brown sheath that made her smile because it was hers. Star and I followed a flock of sparrows to the old Washington Monument, where we ran into a group of Shadows. Five teenagers in leather jackets with shoulder pads crouched beside two freshly shot grizzly bears. I’d never seen a Shadow before, but I knew them from the black charcoal rubbed around their eyes. One of them leered at Star.
“Hey, pretty lady,” he said.
I was about to push her behind me when she threw her knife at him. It was going to sail right past him when he grabbed it out of the air. He just reached to his side and grabbed the knife by the handle. After that, no one moved. The Shadow dropped the knife, and they left us and the bear corpses without making a sound.
I don’t know why, but that’s when I decided to kiss her. I had never kissed anyone before, and I didn’t know how to do it. Still don’t. My lips tried to move, but every touch felt awkward. When it was over, neither one of us felt good. She would never say as much, but afterward she didn’t meet my eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. The timing must have been off. We had almost just gotten killed. I mean, they were Shadows. I don’t know what I was thinking.
Since then, we haven’t tried. I swore to myself I wouldn’t kiss her again until she was happy and safe. I’m still waiting for that moment. Sure, she’s been happy, and she’s been safe, but never happy or safe enough for a kiss to feel quite right. We’ve both wanted to—and I’ve dreamt of doing so much more—but I’m still waiting for that moment. Now, I’ll never be able to kiss her. Tonight, she isn’t happy, and she has never been less safe. Tomorrow, she’s gone.
When Star’s muscles finally relax into sleep, my chest clenches on the brink of shaking with sobs. I can’t remember the last time I cried, and if Star saw me now, it would destroy her. This can’t be her last memory of me. I have to leave. I roll carefully off the mattress and my hands slip out of hers. I take one last look at her lying like an angel, and I have to slip
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