Torn Tears

Stars Apart

Jess gets a job. I gather my family and get out of town. I turn nineteen. We stop the dome nonsense. Jess and I live happily ever after and have ten kids.

I wish. Well, not ten kids. Maybe two some years down the road.

I'm packed and physically ready to leave. I'm not even trying to mentally prepare myself at this point. Useless.

"We should go see fireworks tonight." Jess announces.

I frown. "There are no shows around here."

"That's a shame." Jess pushes a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"We could go out and look at the stars." 

"That's even better."

This is why it will be so hard to leave: Jess is unconventional. She doesn't care about flashiness. She can enjoy easy, natural things. She doesn't need me to be over-the-top perfect. I can be me imperfectly.

So later, when the sun has long been set, Jess and I  travel the two lane highway to the outskirts of town. The lights of downtown fade enough that we don't have to go all the way out of town for a viewing of the stars.

I pull over in the grass and park. We get out of the car and lay on the dented hood. Some of the dents were there when I bought the car. Some were put there by my clumsy tendency to drop tools after shutting the hood.

With her head tilted to the sky, Jess traces a dent with her pinkie finger. I slide my own pinkie finger around hers. She looks at me. Her golden brown eyes shine brilliantly under the starlight.

I lift our hands, tightening our pinkies. "We're going to do this again. I don't know when, but I promise you we will. So when your life gets dark and the night is deep, I want you to look at the stars and think of me. Remember we're going to do this again. We aren't finished here. I pinkie promise you we are going to do this again."

"I love you." She turns to kiss me and it's the best moment of the day.

*****

Two Days Later

I could say a hundred things about the stars and all of them together would not encompass the entirety of the emotions I attach to the distant, twirling bodies.

They are elegant.

They are an oath.

They are my hope.

I take a special joy knowing that Lucas is looking up at the same sky as me. It's harder to see the stars here in the city than out wherever Lucas and his family are.

They left today. I watched them load down Lucas's parents' car and drive off. I told Lucas happy birthday to show him I know that it's July 6. Today's far from happy. I couldn't bring myself to give him the reasons why jar. I tucked it in his bag for him to find instead. We parted with a quick, unabashed brush of our lips. Nothing nearly lasting enough.

I start work tomorrow. I'm a secretary at the city hall. The very same place that Lucas and his mechanic friend Andrew got caught. As soon as I asked the man at the front desk if there were any job openings, he told me he had been hoping I would come in.

My stomach twisted.

"You still with that trouble maker boy?" The man--Elliot Greenmark, he introduced himself as--asked as we walked to the printer office to collect my paper work.

A sick feeling accompanied the headache I'd had all morning. Lucas and I agreed to lie about our relationship. "No." My mouth tasted bitter. "We couldn't seem to connect again."

"Ah. I see. It's better this way, though. If he had loved you like you thought, he would never have put you in danger." Elliot told me.

Lies. Lucas and I love each other so much it burns us.

"I wish I would have figured that out before I suffered his consequences." It turned out I'm an exceptional liar when I don't care about who I'm speaking to.

"A shame, truly," he sounded bored, "But your memories have mostly returned, have they not."

His comment took me aback. I hadn't planned for my issues to be brought up so casually. "Somewhat." I told Elliot cautiously.

He waved a hand at me. "Don't worry. You can trust me. I'm on your side."

Which meant I shouldn't and he wasn't.

"Of course," I said, "I think I can get along with anyone who doesn't cause me to be punished."

"I think you'll like it here." We had made it to the printer and Elliot collected my paperwork. "Fill these out. You start Friday."

No standard interview or application. Just a basic personal information sheet to complete.

Lucas was right when he expected the government to jump at the chance of hiring me.

Now, standing on the roof of the apartment complex, I wish he were here.

Day one of separation an I'm already going out of my mind.

Look to the stars and remember to stay strong.

I'll do my best.

I'm doing my best.

*****

I can't sleep. I'm under an itchy blanket in the bunk above my niece.  Briley thinks this whole escape is an adventure. Figures. I'm sharing the room that was my brother's and mine with her now. The cabin isn't as exciting or fun now that it isn't a vacation.

I climb down the ladder from the top bunk. The window is dusty from years of neglect, but I can still see the stars.

The clock in the hall strikes two a.m.

I don't think I'll be sleeping much.

It took Jess all of twenty minutes to secure a job on Wednesday and come home.

I guess it's July 7 now. I've been nineteen for one miserable day. Later, at nine thirty, Jess will report to her first day on the job. I pray she stays safe.

Our time slipped away too fast. I want her back. It's been eighteen hours since I last saw her.

How am I going to deal with myself for however long this arrangement lasts?

The reasons-why-Jess-loves-me jar is the best birthday present I've ever been given.  I pick it up from the small desk and unscrew the top.

You stayed with me.

A painful punch in the gut now that we're apart. I know what she meant when she wrote the reason. I've always stayed until now that I'm not. I drop the slip of paper back in the jar and put the lid back on.

I hope Jess is resting better than I am. I hope she takes care of herself. She really can't cook well. How long can a person stand living on microwavable dinners and cooking-free foods?

She'll be fine. I have to believe this. If I don't, I've already lost.

Jess is safe and whole looking up at the same stars as I am right now.

We are apart, but unified in our gazes, our dreams.