Rusty raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Nice.”
I didn’t say anything, but I flashed on a line from Finn’s letter: Watch the stars disappear, and I looked up at the sky, almost waiting for a reaction.
Corrie gave a nod, finished off her beer, and stood. “Anyone want another?” I’d barely gotten halfway through mine, but the boys raised their hands, so she went to the cooler and returned with another dripping round.
Wyatt laid his hand on the arm of my chair. “So,” he said, bringing me back to the moment. “You should dive with us.”
“Did you miss the part where I’m from Texas? We don’t scuba dive there.”
“Know how to swim?”
“Yes.”
Wyatt furrowed his brow, like he was thinking. Then the idea came to him. “I could breathe for you.”
I briefly pictured us locked together beneath the water. “Like mouth to mouth?” He had to be joking.
He laughed and raised an eyebrow. “I could do that, too, if you want, but no. What I meant was, we could put an extra hose on my tank that you could breathe from, give you a weight belt, and have you dive with me so you can watch the sun rise.”
It sounded amazing and beautiful and scary all at the same time and was exactly the type of thing Finn would have done without hesitation. Would have convinced me to do too. I glanced across the fire at Rusty, who was watching me with a smirk that made me wonder how many beers he’d had. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look away either.
Corrie bumped my shoulder. “You should, Honor. It’ll be gorgeous. When else are you gonna get a chance like this? And it’s not complicated. I can walk you through it, but basically you just have to relax and breathe.” She smiled with the warmth of a good friend, and out of nowhere I missed Lilah. If I’d opened the letter earlier, she’d be the one next to me in the passenger seat. We’d listen to Kyra Kelley the whole way and snap pictures of each other with the wind in our hair. But she was on her way to school, thinking I was too, with no idea about any of this.
Sam interrupted my thoughts. “Corrie’s a good teacher. You’ll be in great hands.”
Wyatt tipped his head to touch mine and held out his hands in the firelight. “These ones are pretty good too.”
I took one of his hands in my own and examined it. “I guess they are. As long as you wash them after you pee.”
He pulled it back and smiled into his lap. “I’m not gonna live that one down, am I?”
“Not a chance. But I’m in. I’ll try it.” It came out more confident than I felt, but they were right about having a chance like this. Finn would’ve said so too.
Corrie clapped her hands, Wyatt nodded, satisfied, and Sam stood to wedge another log into the orange-hot coals. “Rusty, you in too? We’ve got enough gear.”
“Yeah, maybe so.” He shrugged. “If we stay the night.” His eyes met mine for a brief second, and I saw in them . . . what? Disapproval? Jealousy? What?
Two more logs on the fire and a case of empty beer bottles later, we were most definitely staying. The camp sounds of kids playing and adults talking and clanking pots and pans had died down and given way to the kind of calm that makes you want to speak softly. An occasional pair of flashlights floated by on the road as campers made their way to the restroom, and we sat within the orangey glow of the campfire.
Corrie and Sam had pulled their chairs close, and she slung her long legs over his lap. They tipped their heads way back, laughing at themselves and trying to pick out constellations from the stars spread thick in the sky. Sam pointed. “I know that’s something right . . . there. You see that thing that looks kind of like a cross?” Corrie sat up and moved her head closer to his squinting to see what he was talking about.
Wyatt and I had our heads leaned back on the now-cool metal chair frames, eyes to the sky. You could make any number of crosses with the myriad of stars dotting the sky above us. All around us, really. Aside from the shrubs dividing the campsites, nothing else obstructed the view, which gave the feeling we were under a dome made of tiny glittering lights.
Rusty’s voice surprised me. “It’s Cygnus.” I’d thought he’d fallen asleep in his chair a while ago. While the rest of us switched to water so we could wake up at ‘dark thirty’ for our scuba dive, he’d kept on, getting quieter with each beer, while we compared everything we could about Texas and California.
“It’s what?” I wasn’t even sure he’d said a real word, and I was so tired, I didn’t want to put in the energy to figure it out. I didn’t move, but kept looking for a cross.
“Sig. Nus. It’s a swan, not a cross.”
Sam jabbed a finger at the sky. “That’s it! That’s the one! Cygnus. I’ve heard it called the Northern Cross, too, though.”
I sat up in time to see Rusty tip his bottle back, swallow hard, then nod. “Yeah, that too. Cygnus is the name of the swan.” I didn’t know what was more surprising: that he figured out where Sam was pointing or that he knew the proper name of the constellation.
Corrie kept her head back, still looking. “Is there a story about it? I always used to love the stories about how people or the gods or whatever became stars.”
It was quiet a moment as we all pondered a possible story for the cross/swan. It was Rusty, again, who spoke. “Yeah, there’s a story.” I waited for the smart-ass line that had to be coming. His way of giving Sam and Corrie a hard time. Instead, he sat forward in his chair, elbows resting on his thighs.