find a spot near the tray, beside a duffel bag.
“Lyrids meteor shower. Here.” He hands me a pair of night-vision goggles. “You don’t want to have these on for the show, but they’re kind of fun for now.”
I slip them over my head and the world is bathed in sea green. The rooftops and trees snap into clear focus. A man takes out the garbage. Another guy scoots around on a skateboard. The dog next door barks to be let inside.
Warren rummages through the duffel bag and pulls out what looks like a gun. For a fraction of a second, I panic. I know Warren is mad at me, but he can’t be
that
kind of mad.
“Check this out.” His voice sounds a little brighter. “It’s a vintage Skywatch 3000 Instant Star and Constellation Identifier. I traded up with one of my raiding friends. Still works perfectly.”
“You mean it’s not a laser weapon?”
“I wish. Here.” He hands it to me. “Just point and shoot.”
I hold the gun up at the sky and he presses a button on the back. The thing bleeps and a woman’s voice says, “Alkaid. Constellation: Ursa Major. Visual magnitude: 1-point-86. Right ascension: 10 hours, 67 minutes, 46 seconds.”
“Cool.” I carefully hand it back to him.
“Can you believe he traded the pop-top Death Star for it? Amateurs.”
His smile drops and he goes back to sad Warren. Silence settles between us until, finally, he clears his throat. “I invited Missy Bivins over.”
I can’t say I know, so I don’t say anything.
“She backed out at the last minute.”
“So she was going to make it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“Guess so.”
We sit in our silence and our goggles and this awkward distance between us. He eats an Oreo, so I follow suit. Next, a strawberry, and I do, too. We sip grape juice. Look around. Sigh. Listen to the sounds of the neighborhood and wait for the meteors. It’s like tiptoeing through land mines in foreign territory. I have no idea where to step next. When I can’t stand it any longer, I clear my throat. “We need to talk about…stuff.”
He doesn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t understand what I meant. “About the thing with Danny.”
“Do we have to do it now?”
“You’d rather just pretend it’s not happening?”
“What
is
happening, Eevee?”
“Not what you think.”
“Stoner-face bully staying at your dad’s house isn’t what I think?” He picks up an Oreo and chucks it over the side of the house. I watch it with the night vision until it falls out of sight.
“No. It’s not what you think. And you just wasted a perfectly good Oreo.”
He stands and paces the six feet of roof not occupied by astronomy equipment or food.
“Will you sit down and hear me out, please?”
He crosses his arms. He’s stubborn like a goat, too.
“Fine. Don’t sit. Just listen. Either Danny is having a mental breakdown, or he’s from somewhere else.”
“What does that mean?”
“Friday in English he woke up and ran out of class. I didn’t think much about it. But then he showed up at my house that night saying he needed my help.”
“Why you? Why not one of his loser friends?”
I choose my words with care. “He said I was the only person he knew.”
“You? He doesn’t know you. Not really.”
“Right. Then he asked why there aren’t security checkpoints and stuff here.”
“What?”
“Wherever he’s from, it’s way different than here. He was really freaked out.” I look at my hands. “He said he’d met me at a museum…and that I’d kissed him.”
“Him?!” Now his wheels are turning. He sits down, facing me.
“I
know.
He’s not who we think he is.”
He considers this a moment, then shakes his head. “Nah. He’s still Danny Ogden, resident cretin.”
I shift my weight. The shingles get uncomfortable after a while. “You have to believe me, Warren. It’s only been a couple of days, but he’s definitely not the same guy who…” I don’t have to finish the sentence.
He looks
“Lyrids meteor shower. Here.” He hands me a pair of night-vision goggles. “You don’t want to have these on for the show, but they’re kind of fun for now.”
I slip them over my head and the world is bathed in sea green. The rooftops and trees snap into clear focus. A man takes out the garbage. Another guy scoots around on a skateboard. The dog next door barks to be let inside.
Warren rummages through the duffel bag and pulls out what looks like a gun. For a fraction of a second, I panic. I know Warren is mad at me, but he can’t be
that
kind of mad.
“Check this out.” His voice sounds a little brighter. “It’s a vintage Skywatch 3000 Instant Star and Constellation Identifier. I traded up with one of my raiding friends. Still works perfectly.”
“You mean it’s not a laser weapon?”
“I wish. Here.” He hands it to me. “Just point and shoot.”
I hold the gun up at the sky and he presses a button on the back. The thing bleeps and a woman’s voice says, “Alkaid. Constellation: Ursa Major. Visual magnitude: 1-point-86. Right ascension: 10 hours, 67 minutes, 46 seconds.”
“Cool.” I carefully hand it back to him.
“Can you believe he traded the pop-top Death Star for it? Amateurs.”
His smile drops and he goes back to sad Warren. Silence settles between us until, finally, he clears his throat. “I invited Missy Bivins over.”
I can’t say I know, so I don’t say anything.
“She backed out at the last minute.”
“So she was going to make it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“Guess so.”
We sit in our silence and our goggles and this awkward distance between us. He eats an Oreo, so I follow suit. Next, a strawberry, and I do, too. We sip grape juice. Look around. Sigh. Listen to the sounds of the neighborhood and wait for the meteors. It’s like tiptoeing through land mines in foreign territory. I have no idea where to step next. When I can’t stand it any longer, I clear my throat. “We need to talk about…stuff.”
He doesn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t understand what I meant. “About the thing with Danny.”
“Do we have to do it now?”
“You’d rather just pretend it’s not happening?”
“What
is
happening, Eevee?”
“Not what you think.”
“Stoner-face bully staying at your dad’s house isn’t what I think?” He picks up an Oreo and chucks it over the side of the house. I watch it with the night vision until it falls out of sight.
“No. It’s not what you think. And you just wasted a perfectly good Oreo.”
He stands and paces the six feet of roof not occupied by astronomy equipment or food.
“Will you sit down and hear me out, please?”
He crosses his arms. He’s stubborn like a goat, too.
“Fine. Don’t sit. Just listen. Either Danny is having a mental breakdown, or he’s from somewhere else.”
“What does that mean?”
“Friday in English he woke up and ran out of class. I didn’t think much about it. But then he showed up at my house that night saying he needed my help.”
“Why you? Why not one of his loser friends?”
I choose my words with care. “He said I was the only person he knew.”
“You? He doesn’t know you. Not really.”
“Right. Then he asked why there aren’t security checkpoints and stuff here.”
“What?”
“Wherever he’s from, it’s way different than here. He was really freaked out.” I look at my hands. “He said he’d met me at a museum…and that I’d kissed him.”
“Him?!” Now his wheels are turning. He sits down, facing me.
“I
know.
He’s not who we think he is.”
He considers this a moment, then shakes his head. “Nah. He’s still Danny Ogden, resident cretin.”
I shift my weight. The shingles get uncomfortable after a while. “You have to believe me, Warren. It’s only been a couple of days, but he’s definitely not the same guy who…” I don’t have to finish the sentence.
He looks
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