Summer of Supernovas (11 page)

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Authors: Darcy Woods

BOOK: Summer of Supernovas
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Irina’s standing there in her bra and see-through undies, so why am I the one who feels naked? I go to my dresser and open the jewelry box, rummaging through my accessories. “It was nothing.”

“Yeah. Well, the Land of Denial can be fun to visit, but you shouldn’t build a house there.”

“Crap! Tell me I haven’t lost one of my favorites!” I scoop up a handful of earrings and dig for the missing two-tier, faux sapphire clip-on. They had been a fourteenth-birthday present from Gram. She’d gone to several antique flea markets to find them. If I lost one, I’d be—
Aha!


Hello?
Still talking here. Wil, you guys were totally into each other. The way you moved together on the dance floor…Let’s just say I could feel the heat from across the club.”

“Which ones?” I hold up two pairs—one set is the vintage birthday earrings, the other small and simple.

She taps the dangly sapphire pair and puffs out a breath. “Honestly, I thought this chart thing might be the push you needed into the dating world. Something that would get you past this hang-up you have about being romantically cursed. But now…I don’t know. Maybe it was a mistake.”

“Mistake? You’re
waaaay
overreacting. And I think you worry more than Gram. Which means the earth might’ve started spinning in reverse.”

“And I don’t think you’re worrying enough. I know why you cling to this,
dorogaya,
I do.”

I flash a look of warning. “Let it go.”

She plows on undeterred. “Astrology won’t bring her back, Wil. Neither will living your life in perfect accordance with some
ridiculous
planetary chart.”

My anger flares like a struck match as I toss the extra earrings onto my dresser. “You think I don’t know that?” I bark. “My mom is gone, Iri, and how I choose to honor her is
my
business—
mine.

How dare she dismiss my charts and twist this completely into a mother issue! After all, I don’t bring up
her
mother!

“Okay,” Iri replies more calmly, “then why do you hide it from Gram? Why all the secrecy when it comes to astrology?”

“You
know
why.” My jaw clenches and unclenches.

Gram has strong opinions when it comes to astrology, or as she refers to it—
that cosmological hooey.
But hell, Gram has strong opinions about everything. And while she tolerates my occasional wearing of a star-themed T-shirt, I have an inkling every one of her atoms would split if she knew how deep my preoccupation really went.

“Wil, would you listen to…” Irina reaches for my arm and I pull away. Frustrated, she thrusts her hands to the ceiling. “You can’t force yourself to fall in love with someone! It doesn’t work that way! Love can’t be measured or quantified like stars. It’s messy and unpredictable. Hell, sometimes it’s even wrong. And sometimes wrong
is
right.”

I square my shoulders and fold my arms. “
Really?
Because
wrong
worked out so well for my mother? My dad
abandoned
her before I was born, remember?” Iri casts away my reasoning with a shake of her head, which only stokes my inner fire. “Well, what makes
you
the sudden authority on love? Because having your share of partners doesn’t make you any more of an expert.”

Iri’s lips part; her hand drifts to her stomach. And there’s no anger in her gray eyes, only pain. She turns her back to me and slowly tugs on her pants.

I’ve crossed a line.

Oh no. I can’t believe I just said that. I want to yank all those words back. I want to crush them, grind them, burn them, so they never hurt her again. “Iri,” I croak, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say…”

“That I’m a slut?” Her voice is small, but oh God—I am infinitely smaller. She unhooks her bra, letting the lace drop to the floor. My heart drops with it. “I know what people say when my back is turned.” She pulls on the silver tube top before turning around. “I just didn’t think you were one of them.”

“I’m not!” I place my hands on both sides of her face, forcing her gaze on me. “I’m not, Iri! I—I was…upset; I wasn’t thinking. Which is a crappy excuse for saying something so horrible and
not at all
true.” I brush my thumbs over her pale skin. “Listen to me; you’re the most courageous, beautiful, intelligent girl I know. And I’m honored—do you hear me—
honored
to have you as my best friend. Please…can you forgive me?”

Maybe I’ll never understand why Iri makes the choices she does. Maybe I’m not meant to. All I know is this: Irina Dmitriyev just…
is.
She transcends labels. She loves who she loves, and hates who she hates, with little that falls in the cracks between.

“Shit.” Her eyes glisten. “When you say it like that…” I wind my arms tight around her. She lets out a quiet sniffle and my heart breaks a little more. “But you’re more than my best friend, Wil. You’re my sister, too,” the indestructible girl whispers.

“Forever sisters,” I murmur. Squeezing her harder, I swallow. Which isn’t easy. My throat has shrunk to an eighth of its normal size. “Hey”—I stroke her hair—“I swear on Aquarius, I didn’t mean it. I was being a complete idiot.”

“S’okay.” We separate. “That wasn’t really about me.” Her glassy eyes search mine. “Was it?”

“No. It was about…” I struggle to pinpoint exactly what
had
set me off. “I guess I’m…scared.
God!
I was fine ten minutes ago!” I slump to my bed. “And it’s not like I’m afraid of the things I thought I’d be. The feelings, the desires I worried about? Well…they’re there.”

Irina sits beside me. “That’s great, Wil. See? I told you if you found the right gu—”

“No, it isn’t. Because yesterday I had this dream, and when I woke up, I was saying his name.” I grab a pillow to smother my flaming face as the vivid memories resurface.

“Must’ve been one helluva goodnight kiss.” She bumps my shoulder. “Careful, another one of those from Seth and you might spontaneously combust in your sleep.”

I release a frustrated groan, tossing the pillow and flopping on my back. I stare at my stucco ceiling, peaked like meringue. “Yeah, except I was saying Grant’s name.
Not
Seth.”

With the wind no longer in her sails, she deflates at my side. “Oh. That’s…”

“Exactly.” I push the heels of my hands to my eyes.

“Ah, ah, makeup,” she admonishes, pulling my hands down. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. People put way too much stock in dreams anyway.”

I prop up on my elbows. “Do you think I’m ridiculous?”

“Yes.” Iri pats my cheek. “Why do you think we get along so well?” We both laugh. “Hey, would you do something different with my hair tonight? I was thinking your specialty—old Hollywood glam.” She nestles on the floor at my feet. “What are those big rolls you sometimes do?”

“Victory rolls? No, those have to set overnight.” I slide my fingers through her silky platinum hair. “How about some waves? Large rolling ones like Veronica Lake?”

“Sounds fabulous. Yes, do it.” She stills my hand and peers up over her shoulder. “Everything will work out, Wil. You’ll see.”

I nod, dispelling the dark clouds of doubt. Seth will be here within the hour.
Tonight will be perfect,
I assure myself.

Because billions of stars cannot be wrong.

There was probably a time when the paper lanterns in Korean Seoul Restaurant didn’t have tears or a fine coat of dust. And I bet there were real plants before the silk ones came along. Even the booths are broken in like old saddles that mold to your butt.

The divide between the fancy French place and this hole-in-the-wall is as massive as the distance separating Western Europe from Asia. Am I surprised? Not really. Not when I’m supposed to expect the unexpected.

I get a whiff of the dish in front of me and wrinkle my nose. “Okay, how can I say this diplomatically?”

“Just say it,” Seth replies.

“It reeks.”

His brown eyes crinkle. “Well, yeah, it’s fermented cabbage.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve had kimchi before. I’ve just never acquired a taste for it.”

He slides over a bowl with neon-yellow slices. “Kimchi is seasoned a lot of different ways. Maybe you’ll like this one better—it’s sweeter than the others.”

“Sounds promising.” Balancing the glowing vegetable on my chopsticks, I pop it in my mouth before it has a chance to fly across the table. “Mmm, now
that
one’s actually decent.”

Seth cocks his head. “Actually?” he repeats with mock indignation. “Don’t you have
any
faith in me?”

I glance to the take-out counter on the other side of the restaurant, where a colorful dragon suspends like an Asian piñata. The cobwebs at the creature’s mouth look a lot like smoke. I bite back a smile.

“All right, I’ll grant you, this place isn’t much to look at—”

“Oh, on the contrary,” I say with a smirk, marveling at the awesomely tacky velvet tiger pictures on the wall, “I think it’s
a lot
to look at.”

Seth chuckles before picking at a bit of kimchi that resembles compost. “Wait till you try their bibimbap. They make some of the best I’ve had stateside.” He pops the yard waste in his mouth, chewing slowly.

“It’s been forever since I had good—”

“I thought I hear Seth. Seth, that you?” With her heavy accent, the
h
is silent, so it sounds like
Set.
A tiny Korean woman—voice bigger than her five-foot stature—appears at our table and sets down two more dishes. “More kimchi. Ah”—her dark eyes widen—“and you bring pretty girlfriend?”

Now my eyes widen. “Oh, I’m not…I mean…we’re…well, I’m just sort of…” You would never know English is my first language. Because it seems I’m suddenly fluent in gibberish.

Seth’s swallow threatens to pull a U-turn before he’s able to jump in. “Um, Soo-Jin, this is my date, Wil. Wil, Soo-Jin. She owns the restaurant.”

Soo-Jin shifts her adoring smile from Seth to me. “He never bring girl here. You must be
very
special.”

“I love your dragon,” I blurt. Because nothing creates a diversion like a mythical rainbow beast. But my comment doesn’t faze her.

Soo-Jin leans in conspiratorially and lowers her voice. “For how long he been going in you? Hmm?”

My eyes almost explode from their sockets. “I…what?”

“Uh, she means how long have you been going
with me,
” Seth hastily translates. “Not long, Soo-Jin. Thank you.” He bows his head. “I think we’re all good here.”

Soo-Jin’s cheeks plump more with her smile. “He even more handsome when his face go red, isn’t he?”

I choke back a laugh and nod. Which is lost on Seth because he’s preoccupied with feng shui-ing all the dishes on the table.

When Soo-Jin finally leaves, he shudders. “Well, that was only half as mortifying as it could’ve been.”

“True. You could’ve split your pants.”

He smirks, lifting the dented metal teapot and topping off our cups. “Give it time, the night’s still young.”

I take my cup, wrapping my hand around the warm porcelain. “Hey, I like that you took me somewhere that means something to you.”

“It does.” Seth raises his teacup. “So what should we toast to?”

“Fermented cabbage? Or…or maybe reinforced seams?” We laugh.

“What, and ignore the incredible velvet art on the wall?” He ponders for another second. “We could just toast to adventure. In food or…otherwise?”

I like the sound of that. “To adventure.”

Our cups clink.

“Mmm”—I swallow—“speaking of adventure, what are you doing after graduation next year?” My chopsticks fling apart, rolling across the table. “Oops. Jeez, you’d think I’d have a better command of these by now.”

He grins. “We just gotta tweak your technique. Here, hold the top one like this.” I feel a mini jolt as his hands slip around mine. He patiently curls my fingers around the sticks in a way that stabilizes them. “Long term? Not a clue. How about you? I could use some ideas.”

“I don’t know either,” I confess. “It’s not like I can make a viable career out of astrology. Plus, Gram would have a coronary. I’ve considered astronomy, but frankly, math isn’t my forte and the field is pretty saturated anyway. I guess what I’d really love is to travel.” I frown. “Not that that’s any more realistic.”

“Where would you go? If you could go anywhere.”

“Florence,” I gush, without hesitation. “You know it’s the cradle of the Renaissance.

Using my dipping sauce dribbles, I draw little clouds on my plate with the end of my chopstick. “Italy’s just so rich in culture and history—not to mention gelato. It’d be a dream come true for me.”

“Funny you say that. I’m toying with the idea of bumming around Europe for a few months after graduation. Italy would definitely be one of the stops.”

“Hold on.” I abandon the chopsticks, splaying my hands on the table. “I need a second to explode with jealousy.”

He lifts a shoulder. “Maybe you should come.” His grin is sly. “You know, if you haven’t broken my nose or anything by then.”

“Ha-ha, funny. That would involve some very steep odds that require winning the lotto. Seriously, Seth, wouldn’t your parents pitch a fit?”

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