Body of Stars Laura Walter (chrome ebook reader .txt) 📖

across a group of boys tormenting a praying mantis. They’d tied a string to it, ripped off one of its legs, and were twirling it around. They were laughing. I started to turn away, but Miles inserted himself into the group and confronted those boys, speaking in low tones until they hung their heads and drifted away. We were left with the mantis lying at our feet, mangled and dismembered but still alive. Miles looked down at the struggling insect for a long moment before he lifted his foot and brought it down, hard, on the delicate green body.

I couldn’t shake that memory. It had been a time I’d witnessed two parts of my brother at once: his mercy, his ruthlessness. How even his kindest intentions resulted in ruin.

Miles picked up my shirt and handed it to me, looking away as I slid it on. He wore a hardened expression, his body tensed as if bracing for impact.

“I’ll tell Julia,” he said. “She needs to know we’re running out of time.”

“Miles.”

“Those markings on her ankle make sense now,” he added. “I worked so hard to try to figure it out, and it turns out I’m the one she’ll lose.” He looked at me, his eyes sharp and daring. “Julia can know, but that’s it. I’m serious. Don’t tell anyone else, Celeste. Not your friends. And especially not Mom and Dad.”

“I’m the one who’s been keeping this a secret in the first place. But it’s going to get out before long. This is too big, Miles. This is your entire life.”

“Exactly. It’s mine, and I don’t want them to know. Not telling them is a kindness.”

“Do you wish I hadn’t told you?”

He wouldn’t answer. He stepped to the mirror and studied his face up close, as if he could find a clue to his future there.

“It’s not an easy secret to keep,” I added. “It was the hardest one of my life.”

When Miles looked at me again, I fell silent. Of course he would succeed in concealing his future, just as he kept my future from me. Not only was he a master liar, but he taught me his trade. Deception had become our shared language.

“Only Julia can know,” he repeated. “At least until I’m ready.”

I said nothing, refusing to offer him reassurance. As furious as I was, part of me understood that in his own way, he had been trying to protect me. Lying by omission was his gift to me—the very same gift I’d attempted and failed to give him.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled our attention to the door, which Julia pushed open to face us. I could read everything in her eyes. She wanted to know if I was all right, if I could forgive her and Miles for withholding my fate. I couldn’t stand to look at her.

“I’m sorry,” I told Julia, and then I pressed past her and fled.

*   *   *

On the way home, I was determined to reveal everything. Now that Miles knew the truth, I couldn’t imagine not telling our parents. I believed that to move forward, we all had to start from the same place. That meant they needed to know.

It was mid-afternoon, far too early for my father to be home from work, but his car was in the driveway. I let myself inside and heard my parents’ voices drifting from the kitchen. I didn’t pause to consider what that might mean. In that moment I was still thinking of myself—how I’d hidden the truth about Miles from them, how they’d react when they learned his fate.

I rounded the corner into the kitchen. My parents sat at the table, their hands open and empty in front of them.

“You’re home early,” said my mother.

The school day crashed around me, a minor catastrophe overshadowed by the rest of the day’s horrors.

“So’s Dad,” I said.

My father shifted in his seat. “I was let go today.”

A wave of vertigo hit me. “It was because of me, wasn’t it.”

My father wouldn’t look my way. “Cutbacks were in the works for a while now, and it seems my department was bloated. That’s the word they used. Bloated.”

“They could have let someone else go. You’ve been there forever.” My legs were shaking. I sat down, heavily, at the table with my parents. “Now we won’t have any money, and it’s all my fault.” I started to cry.

“Don’t,” my mother said. “This family is going to be fine.”

They couldn’t know I was crying not just for the lost job, but also for what would happen to Miles—for what I couldn’t possibly tell them now.

“It’s not your fault, Celeste,” my father added. “We each played a role in this. All we can do is find a way to move on.”

I shook my head. I was still crying. “I’ve tried to move on, and it was awful. Like school? I can’t ever go back. I quit.”

My parents took in that news with grim but unsurprised expressions.

“We’ll figure something out,” my mother assured me. “You can take correspondence classes, and I’ll find work.”

“No one will hire you now, Mom.”

For once, no one argued with me. Then I remembered something. I jumped up and ran upstairs, dug a paper out of my bag, and brought it back down. I unfolded it and lay it delicately before my mother. She picked up the application with two fingers and held it at a remove.

“I know it seems extreme, but humanitarians make a lot of money,” I said. “And you’d make an excellent humanitarian, especially with your teaching experience. Think of how gratifying it would be to help girls. This is perfect for you.”

My mother allowed herself a small smile. “Maybe. But this job is serious. I’d have to leave home.”

“Our expenses would be taken care of.” I paused. “Plus, it would help me. You’d make enough to pay for tuition at the Mountain School.”

My adrenaline was flowing, my solution big enough and wild enough to convince me everything was not yet lost. I felt defiant