“As crazy as what, star girl?” As he embraces me tighter, I naturally give in to his pull, allowing his warmth and scent to encompass and immerse me.
“Yeah, I get your point.” There are crazier things than Tristan moving here. Like how he got here. Into my life. How we got to this moment. “And then we can be a super sober, boring couple. Forever and ever and ever.”
“And I’m okay with that.”
“Me, too.” I pull him closer against me and it’s the easiest thing to do in the world, standing together, under the clear blue sky.
Because that’s the thing. I spent a lot of time fighting my attraction to Tristan, refusing to be his friend, but through our friendship, I got to know him. I mean, really know him. And he got to know me as well, more than anyone has ever gotten to know me because I never trusted anyone enough to let them in. However, he showed me that trust doesn’t have to be bad. In fact, it can be really, really good.
And that leaves me wondering something.
About myself.
About Tristan.
About the stars.
About that night I lay dying under them.
I thought I was supposed to help someone, that in the midst of my death someone cried out to me. But maybe I heard it wrong. Maybe it was my own cry, begging someone to help me.
And Tristan was the one who heard it.