Steering the Stars (20 page)

CareBear16: That sounds terrible :/

Jellybean08: Noooo… breathing won’t even matter to you.

CareBear16: Um, oxygen always matters

Jellybean08: Not when you’re in LOVE <3

     
 
I stared at her message for at least a minute.
In love?
No way. I wasn’t in love with anyone. I definitely wasn’t in love with Henry. No way.

       I mean, I couldn’t be in love.

       Not with my best friend’s brother.

He showed up.

       I was sitting on my bed with my laptop positioned over my crossed legs, watching cat videos to distract myself from staring too hard at the clock or worrying more about my outfit. For the record, it wasn’t working very well.

       Eleven fifty-nine.

       Twelve o’clock.

       Chloe and Grace were on the bedroom floor with the contents of my makeup case spread out between them. Since I’d moved in, their favorite game had become “Beauty Parlor” and Grace was currently holding a lip gloss up to her sister’s face and saying, “I think you’d look best in Paris Pink.”

       Chloe, whose dirty blonde hair had been piled haphazardly on top of her head and secured by Grace with a rainbow of plastic barrettes, picked up another color from the pile of compacts and tubes and made a ridiculous kissy face. “I like the Cranberry Crush.”

        There was a muffled noise from downstairs. I glanced up. The digital clock display in the upper right corner of my laptop screen told me it was twelve oh one. “Was that…?”

       Grace dropped the lip gloss onto the carpet and turned to me. “Is that her?”

       My stomach lurched. Last night over dinner when Felicity had asked if I’d be around to babysit today, I had mentioned that I might be doing something with a friend.

        “My friend is a him.”

        Her eyes went wide. “Like a
boyfriend
?”

       I shook my head firmly. “No! He is NOT a boyfriend.”

       “Just a boy who’s a friend?” Chloe asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.

       “Yes,” I said firmly so there could be no objections. “He’s just a friend. And anyway, I’m not even sure if that was the doorbell.”

       We heard the sound again and my heart stuttered.

       “It
was
the doorbell!” Grace cried in excitement as she jumped to her feet. Chloe was right behind her.

       “Wait!” I shouted, but the girls were already dashing out of my room.

       “Crap.” I grabbed a soft blue sweater from the hook on the back of my closet door and moved as fast as I could down the steps. Below me, Felicity was crossing from the living room to the foyer, and Chloe and Grace were leaping across the stair landing like two playful puppies.

       “I’ll get it,” I said loudly.

       “Nooooo... We’ll get it!” The girls cooed in unison.

       “I’m right here,” Felicity said as she reached for the knob.

       I tried to form a protest. “But—”

       It was too late. She was already twisting the knob and pulling the front door back.

       Joel was there. He stood two steps down wearing dark jeans and a snug crewneck sweater and looking absolutely amazing.

       His face was turned up and when he saw Felicity and my nieces crowding the doorway, he blinked his yellow-green eyes in surprise. “Hi.”

       Chloe, who was on the shy side, slunk back, but Grace studied him boldly. “Are you Hannah’s friend?”

       Before he could introduce himself, I rushed forward and shoved everyone aside. Wiping hair from my eyes, I said, “Oh, you’re here?”

       Joel’s face changed. He looked to the left and then the right. “Wasn’t that the plan?”

       “Yeah… I…” My mouth was dry and the nerves in my body were strung way too tight for this.

       “You thought I wouldn’t actually show?”

       “No, it’s not—” I shook my head and inhaled cautiously. “Well, yes. But you’re here and you’re in clothes.”

       Both his eyebrows shot up. He was fighting back a smile. “As opposed to naked?”

       Chloe and Grace giggled. My skin prickled with the heat of embarrassment.

       “I just mean that you’re in regular clothes.”
What the hell was I saying? SHUT UP, HANNAH!
“You know… Instead of your school uniform?”

       He smiled with one side of his mouth and gestured to his clothes. “I usually don’t wear my uniform on Saturdays.”

       “Right. Of course not.” Trying to recover from the disaster that this exchange was quickly becoming, I widened the door and signaled to the girls. “So, Joel, these are my nieces.”

       He crouched down a little and looked between the girls. “Hi, I’m Joel. Nice to meet you.”

       Grace puffed her chest out. “I’m Grace and this,” she said, pointing with one finger, “is my sister. Her name is Chloe.”

       He tilted his head. “And how do people tell you apart?”

       Grace thought it over. “My favorite color is purple. Hers is pink. And I like to draw and she likes music.”  

       Chloe nodded solemnly.

       “Or... You could just keep in mind that Chloe is the one who wears glasses,” I offered with an amused smile.

       Joel laughed. “Got it.”

       “And this is my sister, Felicity. Felicity—this is Joel.”

       For the first time, I noticed that Felicity was frowning at Joel. Instead of offering to shake his hand, she folded her arms across her chest and kicked one of her legs out. “Hello.”

        “It’s nice to meet you,” he said politely.

     
 
“Likewise,” she said but I noticed that her frown deepened and her voice was strained. “Hannah, can I talk to you for a second?”

       Confused, I put my hands out and backed away from the door. “Yeah, I realized I forgot to grab my purse in my room. Joel, why don’t you come in while I run upstairs?”

       “Sure.”

       Before he made it fully across the threshold, Grace and Chloe each captured one of his hands and were pulling him into the living room so they could show off their dollhouse.

       Watching this, I cringed. “I promise I’ll be quick.

       He looked back at me and grinned. “It’s no problem, Hannah. I’ve got little step-cousins who are always around so I’m used to it.”

       I bit my lower lip. “You’re sure?”

       “I’m sure,” he said, waving me off. “Go get your purse.”

       Felicity followed me to the second story. When we were in my bedroom she closed the door and cleared her throat.

       “What’s up?” I asked, getting one last lipstick check in the mirror above my dresser. I noticed that the clasp on my necklace was hanging low so I wrapped my finger around the cool silver and shifted it.

       “You didn’t tell me your friend was male.”

       I straightened and turned around to look at her. “Um… well, I’m telling you now. Is that a problem?”

       “I don’t know, Hannah! I thought you had a boyfriend in Oklahoma so I’m not sure what the rules are for you dating,” she said. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk to Dad about it first.”

       “You’re kidding me, right?”

       Felicity placed a hand on her hip. She gave a frustrated sigh. “No, I’m not kidding, Hannah. I don’t even know who this boy is and I’m supposed to let you leave the house with him?”

       “Yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. I’ll be seventeen in a few months,” I reminded her. “It’s not like I need a chaperone.”

       She made a face. “I don’t know that. With him you might.”

       I stood there and didn’t move. “Why? Because he’s black?”

       Felicity’s blue eyes rounded. “No!” Her voice was hoarse. “How could you even ask me that?”

        “I don’t know,” I snapped. “Because you’re being weird and turning this into a big deal for nothing. Joel is just a friend, but even if he wasn’t, that would be none of your business.”

      
“
Hannah, I’m only trying to watch out for your well being. The last time I checked you were dating a boy back home. So, what exactly are you doing? What is
this
?”

       
“
It’s none of your business,” I repeated the words slowly. “Felicity, I’ve been here for weeks and you’ve basically shown no interest in me. Now, when I finally have plans and something that’s making me happy, you start feeling concerned and sisterly?”

       She wrinkled her brow. “That’s not fair.”

      
“
It isn’t? Because I’m pretty sure over the summer you mentioned getting to know me and all the cool things we’d do in London. But I’m here and we’ve barely had a full conversation until now.”

        She closed her eyes. “You’re so young, and it’s hard for you to understand this but I’ve been—”

       
“
I know. You’ve been busy,” I interrupted.

       “I have,” she insisted, running her hands through her blond hair. “Work is very trying right now.”

       “And I haven’t complained about that once, have I? But this is too much.” I snatched my purse from the bed.

       “Hannah, please.”

       “Please WHAT?”

       Her face was a riot of emotions that I couldn’t interpret. Finally, she said, “I don’t want to fight with you.”

      
“
I don’t want to fight either! But you can’t ignore me for more than a month and then pretend to be my sister when you feel like it,” I yelled, walking out of the room. “Because you’re not!”

****

“
Do you want to talk about it?”

      
“
No,” I said sulkily, kicking at the sidewalk with the toe of my brown leather boot.

      
“
You sure about that?”

      
“
Yeah.” I lifted my head and looked around. It had drizzled earlier this morning and the world all around us was shiny and bright with shed rain.

       Joel was shuffling next to me with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. After leaving the house feeling guilty and angry and close to tears, I’d told him that I didn’t feel like seeing the movie anymore.

       I’d expected him to grow uncomfortable or irritated with my mood. I figured he’d come up with a sorry excuse and a reason to bolt. Instead, he’d acted like the change of plans was the most normal thing in the world. Then he’d led me down to the tube station, showed me how to use my Oyster card, and brought me here. To Hyde Park.

       The park was huge—so much bigger than what I had pictured in my head—with meandering footpaths and sloping hills that fell away to wide, even stretches of unseasonably bright apple-green grass. There were trees everywhere, and their leaves were just starting to change colors. Those fiery fingers were a shock of cinnamon and ochre against a backdrop of grey sky and milky white clouds.

       As we made our way through the park, trying multiple routes, Joel pointed things out to me. He showed me a place called “Speaker’s Corner,” where he said was a well-known spot for Londoners to gather for political demonstrations. Then there was a small winding path lined with dark green hedges and flowering plants that led to a fountain named for Princess Diana, and another path that Joel told me ended at the park’s Holocaust memorial.