Between the Stars and Sky Page 10

  summer is over.

  Happiness is like that, I think. Love, too. And as I snap a match, burn it and then let it spark out and smoke into the air, I realize I am not who I was before the summer sunshine turned my world upside down and back again. A part of me is gone, too. The child, the son, the lover. I don’t know which has burned away. Maybe all. But even so, parts of me are there underneath, the same as they were only different.

  I say, “I love you.”

  My mother is in my words.

  I whisper, “I miss you.”

  Sarah, in the air that holds them.

  I think, I will keep going for you.

  And I’m here in the middle.

  Remembering-

  how to live.

  And remembering a girl who made me smile. Her laugh. Her heartbeats, and the moments when they would skip because of me. The way her hair was the sun. Her eyes the lake, the sky. One summer girl, a girl who lived brighter than the rest. A girl who was so on fire she burned-

  out.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  SARAH WAS NEVER AN after, but a between just pretending. A before.

  Or maybe that was me.

  Maybe that happy ending we’re all searching for is impossible to find because nothing lasts forever; everything is just a bitter between, because every beginning has an end.

  And she was mine.

  Or.

  Maybe she was love. A girl who broke me open and mended me the same, who saved me from loneliness even when I didn’t want to be saved. Who helped me realize that life is worth living, loving again. She was. And love, simply, cannot be defined or defied by anything or anyone; it happens when it happens, always for a reason.

  Because it’s right.

  Because it’s impossible to look away.

  Because it’s meant to be.

  And maybe Sarah was-

  my second love.

  My first true.

  A girl who brought back my dreams, my world, my life, my hope, my wants and needs and reasons for breathing and falling.

  I don’t think it matters-

  love is love.

  And she was love.

  * * *

  Once, when I was barely old enough to remember, I asked my mother where she’d been in life, where life had taken her. Life, it seemed, had a way of being too big to comprehend, too large to fit into one sentence. But my mother had answers I didn’t, and so I asked.

  “Mom? Where have you been?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Before me,” I said. “Where were you before me?”

  She smiled. “I’ve been everywhere, Jackson. Everywhere you can possibly imagine.”

  “You have magic?”

  “No,” she laughed. “Well, maybe. Books are magic, right? Like your favorite story, your Atlantis. When we read together, we travel places. Lost worlds, secret islands, strange and beautiful cities in the sky or under the sea. And I read all the time. They help me escape, books. And by escaping the real world I’m able to see it more clearly.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  She smiled. “You will.”

  And I do.

  Now.

  I understand that we need to escape in order to see our world the way it truly is, that we need to step back so we can step forward. I know words inked on the pages of books may allow us moments of escapism, but their ideas can set us free.

  Stories set us free.

  And in books or in life, stories are something of a magic all their own. If we find them, we keep them. Always and forever. And in that small miracle, in that small piece of real magic, fantasy and reality are exactly the same.

  Sarah-

  this summer-

  was my story.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  SHE JUMPED.

  She jumped she jumped she jumped she-

  j u m p e d.

  And I fell.

  When you jump, fall-

  when you let someone catch you-

  we mend each other, endlessly.

  I have a secret.

  Just one more.

  One tiny secret that may save someone.

  I will catch you.

  I will catch me.

  I will have to.

  One day, you will too.

  You will-

  have to.

  After and During

  I HAVE A TRUTH.

  Let me tell it.

  Let me scream it.

  Where I was lost, I was found.

  They say life is complex, filled with moments defined by belief or faith. They say when we are faced with death, life then becomes simple. We are alive, and then we are not. No betweens. And because of that simplistic notion of dead and gone, living becomes so much clearer when death touches us.

  But it doesn’t.

  Death doesn’t make things easier.

  It’s giving up that’s easy.

  Because when the brave are faced with death, all they want to do is live and live and live in the between forever. Breathe one last sip of air. Smile and cry and find the truth to the mystery of why you have to leave before you even started living.

  We are all between, always. We are the stars and their stories. And in that small wonder of being between life and death, love and loss, there is an infinite amount of possibility.

  “The usual table?” Miles asks me, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “I’m starving.”

  I nod. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll meet you there.”

  His eyes question me, but he doesn’t respond. Only shakes his head up and down and up and walks on to our table with Sean. And as Miles and Sean turn to walk away from me, I feel closer to them than ever before. Closer to understanding the love they share. Because as they turn, Miles places his hand on the lower part of Sean’s back. It is a habit, a reflex, a protection. A small moment they have lived in time and time again without knowing. Like breathing or dreaming. Miles and Sean. So in love that love doesn’t have a definition anymore, it just is. It is the words they share, the secrets they keep. The touches they give, the smiles they share. And above all, I am not sure if love is holding them together, or they are holding love.

  I miss this-

  I want it-

  I will have it-

  one day.

  Sarah was my second love, not my last. And maybe I was her first; the one meant to be between past and future. The one to give her heart wings. I tell myself that I was. Everyday, I tell myself I was something to a girl who was everything.

  And I believe I was.

  “Are you okay?” a girl asks me. Her smile is kind, soft and sweet, and it makes me think of a girl I used to know. “You look lost.”

  “I will be,” I say, and I’m not sure if I’m answering that I am okay or that I am lost. “Just thinking.”

  “About anything special?”

  I let a second live and die. “About the stars.”

  Her smile tells me she knows the stars are more than dots in the sky, yet she begins a quiet story like this: “Well, how about thinking over a cup of coffee?”

  I smile. I’m not ready, but I think maybe I have to be. I have to be brave. Strong. Willing to jump when I can’t see the ground; one girl caught me before, showed me how to jump when I can’t see where I’m headed. See the stories the stars tell. Maybe I need to believe it will happen again.

  “Coffee sounds nice,” I tell her. “I’m Jackson.”

  “Faith,” she says, and, as slow and as quietly as a soft summer storm over a lake, my heart begins to beat again. My heart begins to remember.

  Once, my heart stopped beating.

  Just for a moment-

  for one lost beat that touched infinity-

  I lost and found myself.

  As I look out the large window next to me, I can still hear the sounds of that summer. I close my eyes, and it’s all so clear. As if I met Sarah Blake just yesterday. Water crashing against the jagged stones grouped together at the Point. Wind
blowing through the trees on the last night of the Firelight Festival. Boats honking in the lake. And beyond, the quiet traffic of cars, the only hint that the real world existed.

  I open my eyes and golden sunlight hits me, warmth in this cool autumn weather. Inside the restaurant, voices rise and fall and rise again, but still the outside stays the same. It is a painting colored red and yellow and orange and brown, filled with comfort and change. Air so crisp it cuts the clouds in shapes and patterns, and holds leaves in the ever-blowing wind. Weather so filled with smiles it is a small miracle I am not.

  If I close my eyes, I can still see her.

  If I close my eyes, I can still catch her.

  But I cannot stop her from falling.

  And maybe that’s the point. Maybe falling in love is like jumping off a cliff on the very last night of a festival that is meant to be the beginning of everything.

  This is a love story, I think, and for a moment my mind rests on the memory of my Mom. Of poetry.

  Faced with death, the brave become fearful, the sinners become saints. Truths become secrets become hopes become prayers. And, before it has even ended, life becomes death.

  But even though dark currents force us to remember ashes on the waves of our pasts, life is not about the before. And even though we die a little more every day, life is not about death.

  Life is about now.

  The victory of youth lets us love again.

  And so I will beat on, heart against the current, against the tide always pulling me down. I will breathe more deeply. I will remember a girl who found my heart. I will fight harder, faster, and stronger for the truths I believe instead of hoping they exist somewhere, somehow. I will catch myself and whoever lets me close enough to catch them. And I will love until my heart is just as alive in my chest as it is in my dreams. Because maybe, just maybe, living is about loving, and loving is the only thing that keeps us alive. Maybe love is where life ends and begins, and everything in between.

  I will live and love.

  Here and now.

  Between the stars and sky.

  Acknowledgements

  This book was different from the last. They always are. But in this one went a different piece of me, and yet there are still many of the same people to thank.

  My family, for always being there. And for giving me the roots to write this story even though these characters are rooted in fiction.

  Rachel and Lindsay and Abby, of course. You three continue to be in my life even though I spend a lot of time in books and rarely come up for air. I’ve never found better friends and never will.

  To Sean, for letting me use your name. And for being such a great friend to talk to about anything and everything that comes to mind.

  To Dani, for being my warrior. You do so much for me without even blinking, and I appreciate all of it more than you know. Truly and honestly, you are one of the bravest people I know.

  To EJ, for so much already.

  Thank you to my friends at work, who make me laugh and have been nothing but supportive, thank you. You know who you are.

  Joseph Eastwood and Annie Burns, you two are awesome with your skills. Thanks so much for letting me take advantage of them!

  To Keary Taylor, who always takes my wild words and wraps them in beautiful covers. Especially with this one, thank you. This cover. This cover! Thank you so much for your design skills and your friendship.

  Rachel, Helen, Chris, Christina, and all my online friends and family, this one is also for you. You showed me support when I was down and let me be silly when I needed to be. Thank you all so much.

  A huge thanks to Nyrae Dawn and Joy Hensley for reading this story and loving it enough to write wonderful blurbs about it. I am forever in your debt.

  And to you, of course. Because I may write the words, but you give them life when you read them. That’s what matters. That’s what counts. Thank you.

  SPECIAL THANKS

  A special thanks to all the bloggers and friends who helped reveal the cover for this novel. You are the keys in this journey. I can’t thank you enough.

  Allura- Teacups & Bookends

  Bonnie- Paranormal Romance & Authors That Rock

  Priya Kanaparti

  Damian Ledoux

  Lexi Cenni - Poisoned Rationality

  Ashley Hill - Paranormal Sisters

  Megan Monell - Love, Literature, Art, and Reason

  Helen Boswell

  Marni J - Word To Dreams

  Tiffany Perry - Sweet Treat Reading Reviews

  Rachel Walter

  Christina - Crazy Book Chicks

  Tia Bach

  Candace Selph - Life Between the Pages

  Alexandria Bishop

  Andretta - Fang-Freakin-Tastic Reviews

  Christopher Chapman

  Manda - Who Picked This?

  Mia Swartz - M&EM Read

  Ashley - Support Indie Authors

  Michelle N. Files

  Sarena - The Writing Duo

  Note From The Author

  Between the Stars and Sky is a different kind of story. I thought of the title first. Before I wrote a single word of it. And then, without knowing the story, I wrote this line:

  “That scary and beautiful place where the sky meets the lake in an infinite sea of stars.”

  And the idea of the between was born. Of course, I also added the Firelight Festival/Fall element that is so important to the novel, but not in the way you might think. The Firelight Fall is a metaphor for the entire message behind the novel. Some things are not what they seem, and some are. Really, it all depends on the person, the time, the place, the thing, and how we view it. In the Firelight Fall, we see a dangerous game of bravery that is, at its core, a symbol of the bravery it takes to fall in love.

  I wanted to create a contemporary story that was different. Magical and real, the same. Instead of focusing on heavy plot details or filler to make the story a lengthy one, I wanted to focus on the details between the story. Rather, what is unsaid between what you’re reading on the page and what you’re imagining. And because the world of most contemporary novels already exist around us, it worked.

  By not saying things, having a more minimalistic approach to the novel, the story itself becomes a kind of between. We have plot, characters, and setting, but we also have a story outside the story. Something that is different for every single reader. That raw emotion that comes from breaking the rules of storytelling and blending a poetry-like, very minimal feeling into each chapter. I wanted a book of beautiful moments. Sad moments and happy moments. No filter. No filler. Your reading of Between the Stars and Sky may very well be different than mine.

  Additionally, in many of the chapters, character is focused over everything else. We witness Jackson thinking about the person he wants to be. Sarah too. And in this I thought it was beautiful how the two are really between finding themselves without any kind of filler added to the story. Miles and Sean are also factors in this novel, and through them we see what a “normal” couple looks like. Though nothing is truly normal, through that secondary couple we see a kind of balance that doesn’t exist in the main relationship just yet. In so many ways, this is an exploratory novel about characters.

  In Between the Stars and Sky, my goal was to focus on the emotional aspects of the story. I wanted to create characters that were between loves, between being okay, between understanding what they were even about. And in Jackson, I found a character who was just beginning to understand himself. In Sarah, I found a character who was very much lost even though she didn’t know she was. Through them, we see that being between something is often exactly where you’re supposed to be.

  Or not.

  It’s all up to you.

  That’s the beauty of it.

  EXCLUSIVE BONUS CONTENT

  PLAYLIST

  Gone Too Soon - Simple Plan

  In Another Life - The Veronicas

  Counting Stars - OneRepublic

  September
- Daughtry

  Half A Heart - One Direction

  Young at Heart (Acoustic) - William Tell

  Set Fire to the Third Bar - Snow Patrol

  So Long Goodbye - Sum 41

  Waiting for Superman - Daughtry

  Too Close - Alex Clare

  Summer Love - One Direction

  Wipe Your Eyes - Maroon 5

  3000 Miles - Emblem 3

  Bonus Content

  ONE THOUSAND MILES

  Before Jackson fell for Sarah, Miles found Sean. But love is rarely easy, and in the town of Huntington life has a way of letting secrets run rampant. Find out what it means to live freely in this poignant and emotional short story about two boys falling in love.

  One Thousand Miles

  The story of Miles and Sean

  “It takes two to make an accident.”

  F. Scott Fitzgerald

  MILES FOSTER WAS CRYING.

  “Bitch, please!” Jessica shouted, laughing dry and short. “I can’t believe you don’t like my boyfriend.”

  “Not my type,” Miles told her.

  “No way! I thought for sure we’d have the same taste in guys. Guess yours sucks.” She snorted, then laughed again; this was hilarious to her. “What about Sam Waters? Is he your type?”

  “Getting warmer.”

  “Jackson Grant?”

  Miles grinned. “Bingo!”

  “Fucking whore! He is your best friend!”

  “Was,” Miles corrected. “He was my best friend until he moved away. Years ago. Without warning.”

  “Get over it, bitch,” Jessica giggled, pressing a finger under her eye to catch a falling tear. Dark black pieces of her makeup looked heavy but refused to move.