The Planetarium

PART THREE

SINCE THAT FATEFUL NIGHT in the planetarium, Juliet and I formed a fast friendship.

It was a strange thing, suddenly being heavily acquainted with a girl who was used a higher social circle, the aristocracy of our dwindling college. We went to the movies one night and watched the new Marvel film with a posse of her loud friends, who threw popcorn and went to a contemporary-style bar afterwards.

I felt like a unsophisticated fool on my jeans and jacket, my sneakers caked with mud from my many nighttime treks. A man with a gleaming bald head and a name tag bearing manager narrowed his eyes in my direction.

Juliet and her crew belonged. All three-pieces and heeled shoes, they laughed over a political joke and sipped their margaritas.

"Alright, Orpheus?" Juliet leaned on the bar, swilling her milk-white piña colada.

"Yeah." I forced a smile, forcing bitterness out of my throat.

"What did you think of the movie?"

"Can't go wrong with superheroes. My brother and I always have an argument over who kicks more ass - Thor or Iron Man."

"Man, you have a brother?" she gasped like it was the biggest rarity in the world. "Does he share the Greek mythology trend?"

I nodded with reluctance. "His name's Icarus- you know, who flew too close to the sun? I also have a kid sister - Circe - who's in senior year of high school."

"Bonkers."

I appreciated how she hadn't brought up my illness. I cherished the cruisy, loud moments like this where the conversations were so thick nothing could remind me of my perilous fate.

The brain tumour always lingered in the back of my head. Literally.

Besides, Circe had finally accepted my friend request on Facebook, so that had to count for some family support, right?

Juliet threw back a look towards the gaggle of law and media students. One tipsy junior attorney was demonstrating a river dance, his beer slopping over his wristwatch.

Asshat.

"Hey, do you remember that thing I told you in the planetarium that night?" Juliet dropped her voice.

"Of course," I replied, my heart beating steadier.

"It's worse than ever," she made eye contact with the beige carpeting, and I swear I saw tears glint the corner of her eyes. "Oh, I haven't told anybody, but I'm so on edge people have started to notice. Phil says I seize up every time he stands up to leave my apartment. And I got a typed letter through the mail yesterday..."

A crinkled Manila envelope emerged from the inside of her coat. Watching her fingers fold over the paper, my cheeks bloomed pink as soon as the contents were unveiled.

Photographs. Sneaky midnight shots, medium-quality through what looked to be a window. The figure in the Polaroids was clearly Juliet wearing nothing but her underwear.

"Oh, get over it," she snapped at my reaction, which only made me blush harder.

"This is serious," I breathed. There were at least twelve photographs. No return address.