Trailing Stars (Trailing Stars #1)

Chapter 9

Clara and Nathan help me with the rest of the gifts. It takes less than a minute.

"They're not really hidden," Clara notes, peering into Mom's gift bag. She glances at Nathan. "Do you have tissue paper?"

He shrugs. "It's somewhere."

As he disappears down the hallway, I say, "You guys really don't have to help. I'm sure you have your own gifts to buy and wrap."

Clara waves me off. "I work better last minute. And Nathan..." She frowns. "...doesn't need to buy a lot of presents."

I guess that makes sense. I've only ever met his mom, so I would think he doesn't have a lot of people to buy presents for. But before I can ask—or decide if I should ask—Nathan comes back. Instead of tissue paper, he has a stack of papers and a couple of pens with him.

"Couldn't find the tissue paper," he says. "But we can cover the top by writing poems and folding them into fans."

Clara rolls her eyes. "Only you, Nathan..."

He returns her eye roll. "Do you have any other ideas?"

Instead of replying, Clara rolls her eyes again and sits back on the couch. Nathan sits on my other side, handing me a piece of paper and a pen.

"Who do you want to start with?" he asks.

I shrug. "We can start with Kate."

Nathan nods. He presses the other pen down at the top of one of the sheets of paper. "Sure. What do you generally feel towards her?"

"Worry."

I feel Clara shift, and Nathan hesitates before he writes that down. "How do you act around her?"

"Distant."

"How does she act around you?"

"She's always sarcastic and full of life."

"Are you guys close?"

"We were."

All of this comes out before I can really think my answers through. They're not lies, and that's exactly what I'm scared of. And that's exactly why the back of my eyes and throat start to burn. The fact that Nathan and Clara are staring at me doesn't really help either. I try to swallow the lump in my throat and hyperfocus on a point on the wall.

I feel Clara shift beside me again. "Were? It seemed like you guys were pretty close yesterday."

I nod, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Long story."

I feel Clara lean forward, and I hold my breath. Right as she's about to say something, Nathan cuts her off, asking me more questions. I let myself breathe, focusing on him. His silver eyes are gentle. Not quite dimmed, but not really glinting like they usually are. Just... soothing.

Nathan hands me the list of things he wrote down for reference. "You can write everything down in your poem to her."

I'd really rather not, but it might be better than having to say everything out loud. And definitely a lot better than sitting here and having Nathan and Clara look at me. They still do that as I write, but at least I have something to focus on now.

While I write, Nathan shifts over so our knees are touching to read what I'm writing. He comments on some of the lines he likes and some he would write differently. Clara does, too, but she gives me more space than Nathan does.

We go through this process with everyone in the family: Nathan asks me questions about someone, I pour out answers without thinking and try not to cry while I do it, and he and Clara read what I write over my shoulder. It takes longer than I think it would, but we eventually get it done.