Into the Stars (USC Series Book #2)

chapter twenty

Without hesitation, I mutter a quiet, "No."

She slowly nods, looking back out to the tree-land ahead of us.

"Question."

Jones swivels her head to look at me, her face remaining expressionless as she stares at me. I have hated eye contact since the moment I opened my eyes, but right now; I want to hold Brinley's eyes in mine forever, which is a striking realization, considering I shouldn't like her. Correction: I don't like her.

"Why are you out here?" I ask, inhaling another drag of my joint. Once again, I expel the breath through my mouth and nostrils. The high seeps into my bones, and this strange feeling enters me at the knowledge I might forget this interaction.

She sighs and shrugs her shoulders. "I... I don't know. I am unsure why I stayed once I saw you, as well. I just wanted to sit out here, I guess."

I acknowledge what she said with a soft nod. Staring out at the vast night sky, I depict the constellations the stars make and the way they glimmer slightly brighter every once in a while.

A memory enters my mind from the first time I ever interacted with Brinley. Out on that balcony, at the stupid party I was trying to escape, that ended with her witnessing me at my most vulnerable. I recall her mentioning something about liking the stars.

"What do you like about the stars?" I mutter in a hushed tone, afraid of breaking whatever trance we are seeming to enter the longer we sit out on this balcony in the chilly night air.

She remains silent for a beat. "The longer you stare at them, the easier it is to get lost. So many unknown stories lie beneath each one and when you look closely, it makes you wonder what each person's story is."

"Do you ever just wish you could... disappear into the stars? Even if it's just for one night," I whisper, voicing the first thought that comes to mind after hearing her such soft-spoken words. I shouldn't be sharing such conceptual thoughts with her, but the words spill out of my mouth like I have no restraint.

"All the time."

A heavy yet comfortable silence ensues. There is no pressure to say anything else and I don't think either of us wants to. I am unsure how much time passes and I don't really care, kind of enjoying the relaxed sensation flowing through me right now.

"I have been having a lot of memories of my dad recently," Brinley utters, breaking the calming silence that had been passing between us. "You probably don't want to hear this—I understand—but I just need to... air it out." She huffs a small breath of air.

I remain quiet, listening to every word she just said and is about to say.

"The last time I went skiing was on a family trip before everything with my father went to shit. I think it was one of the last good memories I remember where he was happy and... free." She pauses, sharply inhaling a breath of air. "I don't know. I just... that trip has been circling my mind a lot this afternoon."

She entangles her fingers through the now less curly strands of hair, toying with the ends, and I can tell she is avoiding my gaze.

Stuck on what to say, I remain silent. From my experience, silence is your friend. It lets people assemble their thoughts out on their own with no need for them to enter the world. And if all goes well, your thoughts can remain yours.

"I want to hate him. So badly. I want to understand how he thought. I want to understand so many fucking things, but I think the only thing that makes sense in my mind is why he let it control him. He thought there was no fleeing reality, so he fucking found consolation in addiction," she explains lowly and I know that right now she doesn't need reassurance; she needs someone to listen.