Steering the Stars (27 page)

       “Do I see what?”

       He stepped closer and lowered his head so that our vision was aligned. “The nose.”

       I followed his finger. Sure enough, I could just make out a sculpture of a nose jutting from the brick wall. I laughed hysterically. “I thought you were having some kind of break from reality. Why noses?”

       “Around twenty years ago, an artist hid a bunch of plaster noses all over the neighborhood.”

       “But
why
?”

       Joel looked at me. “Who
knows.
”

       I felt myself smile. “Did you just make a really bad nose pun?”

       He shrugged off the comment. “Maybe.”

       I laughed. “So, how many schnozzes am I looking for?”

       It was his turn to chuckle. “Schnozzes?”

       “Yes, schnozzes!”

       He shook his head. “So far, I’ve only found three of them but my stepfather told me that there are at least five more hidden around this area.”

       “And what do we get if we find them all?” I asked.

       “Wealth… love… good fortune… eternal happiness… Isn’t that the kind of thing you always get when you complete a task?”

       I lifted my eyebrows. “Then we better get started looking for noses.”

       “A phrase I’m sure you never thought you’d say.”

       We scouted the streets, peeking down narrow strips between the buildings, under awnings and even in the sewers. As we looked, we talked. Joel talked about his mom and his stepdad and his first and only real girlfriend, who had broken his heart and who, incidentally, I decided I hated by default.

       I told him more about my life in Oklahoma—about summers at the lake and nights scouting out the sky with my dad and sometimes Caroline.

       “Astronomy is his hobby,” I informed him. “He’s a total star freak.”

       “And you?”

       I shrugged modestly. “I know my way around the sky.”

       “And the stars?”

       “And the stars,” I confirmed.

       “So, what’s the coolest thing I should be aware of about the universe?” he asked.

       I twisted my mouth to the side as I thought. “If you threw Saturn into a big enough body of water, it would float.”

       His forehead bunched. “No.”

       I nodded and smiled, pleased with myself. “Yes—wait!” My eye caught on something above an archway “Is that…?”

       It was a nose. Joel had already shown me the three he’d known about so this was a new discovery.

       “Good ca—”

       My growling stomach interrupted him. I flushed but he just laughed and linked our hands.

       “I’m calling the search off,” he said, pulling me down the road in the opposite direction.

       “But, we haven’t gone down that—”

       “Hannah,” he said as I strained against him, “we’re getting food.”

       “What happened to eternal happiness and good fortune?” I protested.

       “That comes after we eat.”

       My stomach growled again—loudly—which was answer enough for Joel. We rode the tube south toward the Thames and when we exited the station, evening was settling over the city like a downy blanket. Not wanting to waste time on a long dinner, we stopped at a fish and chips stand. The guy behind the counter spoke little English and had a wide handlebar mustache that made me think of a time-traveling Wyatt Earp. The food was served in a paper cone and Joel encouraged me to sprinkle salt and malt vinegar over it.

       As we ate, we walked on a paved boardwalk, following the river east so that I could see the outline of St. Paul’s Cathedral and across the Millennium Bridge. The water was opaque—more black than blue—and in the falling dusk it shimmered with mellow hues of pink and orange. Everything looked so beautiful and Joel stopped halfway across the bridge to ask a woman in a lemon-yellow pea coat to take our photo.

       My fingers were sticky from eating and I quickly used the napkin in my hand to wipe them off. I was touched that he wanted a memory of the day. Joel showed the woman how to use the camera on his phone. Then he scooped me into his side and I put my hand on his chest just above his heart. The wind picked up and blew my hair into his face. I heard him laugh and felt him tuck the long blonde strands between our bodies.

       “One more stop,” he told me as we passed by Tate Modern, a large art gallery at the base of the bridge.

       “What is it?” I asked.

       “Patience, grasshopper.”

       I stomped my feet in jest.

       He grinned and looped my arm under his elbow. His long fingers brushed gently over the back of my hand. “You won’t be disappointed.”

       And, when we stopped just west of Jubilee Gardens and I craned my neck upward, I knew he was right. I wasn’t disappointed in the slightest.

     “The London Eye,” I breathed in awe. I’d read about it and looked at photos, but this was the first time I’d seen the giant ferris wheel that overlooked the Thames in person. It was dark now and the entire circumference was trimmed in a garland of white lights.

       Joel paid for our tickets and after a short wait, we boarded one of the egg-shaped glass domes attached to the wheel. There were about twenty other passengers in the carrier, but pressed against the cool glass, with all of London lit up below us, Joel and I could have been the only ones.

       When we reached the top, I wrapped my hands around the metal rail and leaned away from the side.

       “Are you scared?” He was watching me.

       I didn’t say anything; just shook my head.

       Joel tenderly pried my right hand loose and pulled me closer. He turned my hand over and I felt him draw a shape on my skin with the tip of his index finger. It was a star.

       I released the faintest sigh and curled into his body. I touched my lips to his neck where his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. His skin was warm and salty and I could feel the papery rasp from where he shaved.

       My pulse rippled. Quietly, I said, “It takes your breath away.”

       I wasn’t only talking about the view from the Ferris wheel and Joel probably understood this.

       As we fell back to earth in our glass cocoon, his mouth found mine and he placed whispered words on my lips.
Yes it does.

By Saturday morning, my face hurt so much that I think I must have been smiling in my sleep. It was still hard to believe that I’d finally gotten over whatever sort of stage fright had been inhibiting me for almost a month and had my first successful rehearsal last night.

To: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

From: Hannah<
[email protected]
>

Date: October 17

Subject: Helloooooo!

Just in case you were thinking about me... Know that I’m on a date with Library Boy and as I type this, we are walking the streets and searching for noses.

____________

To: Hannah<
[email protected]
>

From: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

Date: October 17

Subject: Noses?

Uhhhh… Was that some epic autocorrect or are you really searching for noses? Noses on, like, people? Animals? Am I missing something?????

-C

____________

       I laughed as I pressed send. Then I placed my phone on my nightstand and threw my covers off. It was Saturday morning and by the bright sunshine pouring through my window, I could tell it was going to be a nice blue-sky kind of day. Unfortunately, I’d be spending most of that day inside a mall looking for a dress to wear to Homecoming. The thought was enough to dull my good mood. Fashion wasn’t exactly one of my areas of expertise.

       My phone vibrated on the nightstand and I reached for it thinking that it was Hannah explaining
why
she and Library Boy are looking for noses. I nearly dropped the phone when I saw who just emailed me.

To: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

From: Owen<
[email protected]
>

Date: October 17

Subject: Re: Hey Friend!

Hey,

Yeah, I guess I owe you an apology. It was a shitty thing to do and I don’t really have an excuse other than Hannah didn't want me to tell you what was happening. She wanted to be the one to break the news and I didn't know if I'd be able to be around you without you knowing the truth.

But I do miss you and I think a coffee date sounds good. Except you know I hate coffee. :P

____________
             

      
I couldn’t believe I’d finally heard from him. Not wanting him to have a chance to change his mind, I closed my email account and sent him a text.

I have to go to the mall in Tulsa today. Wanna meet me there?

    
 
His response came quickly.

What time?

       We texted back and forth a few more times, working out where and when to meet. I was so excited that Owen was talking to me again that I practically skipped down the stairs to the first floor. Dad was reclined in his favorite armchair in the living room reading the newspaper. A football pregame show blared in the background.

       “Hey, um, Dad?” I asked tentatively.

       He didn’t look up from the paper. “Hmm?”

       “I wanted to go into Tulsa to do a little shopping and was wondering if I could borrow your truck? I'm meeting Owen there.”

       That got a slight reaction. “How is Owen these days? He hasn’t been around much.”

       “Well, you remember his parents moved last year? And he’s really busy with lacrosse and his new school, but, yeah… he’s good.” I cleared my throat. “So can I borrow the truck to go shopping?”

       He looked at me. “How long do you think you’ll be? I told Bob Poole I’d head over to his place this evening to have a look at his water heater. It’s giving him trouble again.”

       “I’ve got to get a dress for Homecoming, but I can be back early afternoon so it won’t be a problem.”

       Dad nodded slowly. “You’re going to the Homecoming dance?”

       I shrugged nervously. This was the longest conversation we’d had in a while and I wasn’t sure how to handle it. “I think so.”

       “Good for you,” he said then pointed. “Keys are on the kitchen counter in front of the microwave.”

       “Thanks.” I took a step toward the kitchen but his voice stopped me.

       “Caroline?”

       “Yeah?”

       “Do you need any money?”

       “No, I got it,” I assured him. “But, thanks. I’ll be back before you need to get over to Bob’s.”

       He grunted and turned back to his newspaper, which I took as my goodbye. I guess we had reached our word quota for the day.

       Fifteen minutes later, I was in the driver’s seat of Dad’s blue F-150, heading west on highway 44 toward Tulsa. I’d been right about the day. It was beautiful. The sun radiated through the blue sky and turned the earth glittering green and gold. Feeling inspired, I turned up the radio and unrolled the window.

       The drive was less than thirty miles. I parked and entered through the entrance to the food court. This is where Owen and I had decided to meet but it was looking like I’d beat him to the mall.

       I sent him a text then got into the Starbucks line, grabbed a latte, and found an empty table. As I waited, I pulled up a few fashion sites on my phone and scanned them for dress ideas.

       The more I looked, the worse I felt. There were so many possibilities. I could go for a classic party look with sequins and lots of tulle, or something more streamlined and modern.
Or
I could try to pull off sleek and elegant. Then there was the question of long or short. I had no idea what looked good on me so how was I supposed to decide?

       Dress shopping was the kind of thing you needed a mom or a best friend for. Currently, I had neither.

       “Funny seeing you here.”

       I jumped, startled. Then I realized that the voice belonged to Owen and I spun around, careful not to slosh my coffee.

       “Hey!” I couldn’t help but smile as I took in my friend. If you didn’t count the awkward run-in at Joe’s Pizza (and I didn’t), it had been forever since we’d seen each other. I was worried that everything had changed, but the guy standing in front of me was the same Owen I knew and loved.

       He was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt with his new school’s logo emblazoned across the chest and a pair of faded blue jeans. His coppery hair was hidden by a baseball hat. I knew it was his favorite and had actually been a gift from Hannah. When she gave it to him, it had been crisp and white but now it was dingy and broken in with wear and could probably pass for grey.

       He put his arm across my shoulders and gave me a brief hug. As he stepped back, he nodded to my phone. “You aren’t
really
going to make me shop for dresses, are you?”

       I blinked, doing my best to appear innocent. “Do you really think I would be that cruel?”

       “Yes,” he said with a laugh, plopping into the chair across from me. “Yes I do.”

       I let go of a breath and rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine. I was dying to see you but I may have had an ulterior motive for picking the location. I really do have to find a dress and I need help.”

       He shook his head like he was annoyed but I knew it was for show. He was grinning. “The word
mall
probably should’ve raised a red flag.”

       I giggled. “Probably. But, if you’re extra good you might luck out and get a slushy out of this.”

       “A slushy?”

       “I’ll even let you get a mixed flavor.”

       “Make it a large,” he said, “and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

       “You’re on.”

       The mall in Tulsa was huge and it was hard to figure out where to even start. After studying the directory for a minute, I decided that the best plan was to begin at Macy’s and work our way through the bottom level. If I still hadn’t found a dress in an hour, we could try the shops on the second floor.

       Owen was a good sport about it. He stood watch while I searched through the seemingly endless racks of dresses trying to decide if I wanted satin or silk or chiffon or ruching or cap sleeves or no sleeves at all.

       “This is impossible!” I wailed as I looked in the mirror outside the dressing room, examining what felt like the thousandth dress. This one was sparkly silver with a creamy overlay.

       “That one would be perfect if it were about seven inches shorter.”

       I glanced down to where the silver and cream fabric had pooled around my feet. “Or if I were seven inches taller.”

       Owen, who was currently parked on a vibrant red couch eating a pack of candied pecans he’d picked up for sustenance, chuckled. “That would work too.”

       The saleslady who had helped us earlier peeked her head around the corner. “What about this one? I pulled it from the petite department.” She held up an emerald green dress. It was mid-length with a swishy skirt and tasteful ivory beading across the bodice. “I think the color will bring out your eyes.”

       Owen nodded and swallowed. “She’s right that the green one would work with your skin tone and eyes, but, personally, I loved the blue one. The empire waist is the perfect cut for you. It draws the eye up and elongates your torso.”

       The sales lady and I both stared, dumbfounded. Owen blushed so fiercely I could barely distinguish his freckles.

       “Excuse me?” I coughed.

       He buried his head in one of the couch cushions and lifted his hand like a flag of surrender. “Let’s pretend I did not just say that out loud.”

       “Ummm…” I laughed as the woman handed me the green dress to try on and disappeared back to the sales floor. “Where’s a hidden camera when you need it?”

       Owen picked up his head and grimaced. “I blame this on Cami. She made me watch reruns of
Project Runway
last weekend.”

       Without turning from the mirror, I asked, “Cami?”

       “She’s just a friend,” he said quickly. Maybe too quickly.

       As casually as I could manage, I said, “You know… it would be okay.

       He furrowed his brow. “What would?”

       “If you… um, started to date someone new.”

       My words sunk in and Owen dropped his gaze. Keeping his voice low, he asked, “Is she?”

       Crap on a sandwich. I never should have taken the conversation in this direction. Hannah had said she wanted Owen and I to stay friends and she hadn’t told me to keep anything from him. But talking about this was so uncomfortable.

       Owen read my anxiety. “It’s okay, Care. Just tell me and get it over with.”