Free Unlit Star by Lindy Zart, Wendi Stitzer Page A

skin is ghastly pale, but there is nothing to be done about it. I touch the spattering of freckles on my nose and turn away, folding my clothes and putting them on top of my tote bag. Phone, sunglasses, sunscreen, and yellow beach towel in hand, I head to my form of liquid heaven.
    The sun is relentless under the cloudless sky and I squint against it, thinking of an upside down ocean of calm waters. The humidity isn't bad today and a warm breeze rustles my hair. From my position, I can see the surrounding houses, trees, and parts of varying streets, and yet I feel separate from it all—untouchable. Summer makes me feel free, like there are endless possibilities and the future can hold anything I want it to. Tomorrow is a whole new chance to do something great. I feel the curve of my lips and know a smirk of contentment covers them.
    Setting my stuff down on the bench at the far end of the deck, I walk to the edge of the pool and raise my hands above my head. I bend my knees, and push off into a dive, the water sluicing on either side of me in smooth lines. My arms stroke the lukewarm liquid as I balance my breathing with my movements. Time escapes me as I become part of the water, the laps melding into a dizzying line of back and forth.
    An awareness tickles the back of my neck and I shoot to a standing position, my heart pounding as I work on steadying my breathing. I look to the chair normally occupied by Rivers, surprised to find it empty. Instead he sits on the bench with his hands clasped together and his arms resting on his knees. The intensity of his gaze singes me, but it only lasts a brief moment before it is replaced by nothingness. How can he so effectively wipe all emotion from his eyes within the span of an instant? Practice , a voice tells me.
    I wonder if I should say something, but I am kind of tired of never being acknowledged, so I don't. I go back to swimming, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. It's strange that I find it comforting in a way and I wonder if he gathers comfort from watching me as well. Ludicrous, and yet the brand of his eyes is unwavering the entirety of my swim.
    Hours later I am freshly showered and clad in a neon yellow with pink stars tank top and gray shorts, ready for some lounging. I like to be active, but I also like to do absolutely nothing and vegetate just as much. I designated the sun room as my bedroom for the duration of my stay. One, because the couch is comfy. Two, because Monica asked me to. And three, because this room is alive with the sun.
    Odd that there are two of us in this house and we are both acting like there is only one—Rivers keeping to his room and me letting him. I wonder if that's how he usually spends his days, just listening to music and watching television, segregated from others by his choice. How boring. I mean, yeah, I keep to myself, but I'm not brooding as I do it.
    I'm flipping through the channels on the television when my phone rings with 'Man On The Moon' by R.E.M. I pick it up, asking, “How's everything going?”
    The sigh is heavy. “As well as expected. How are things there?”
    “Perfect.”
    “Don't exaggerate, Delilah. I know my son.”
    I twirl a lock of hair around my finger. “I was trying to make you feel better. Not too bad, actually. Rivers has been in his room most of the day.”
    “I'm not surprised.” Monica pauses. “He called a little bit ago.”
    “Oh?” I can just imagine all the nice things he had to say about me.
    “Yeah.” Her tone sounds perplexed as she continues, “He brought up the ice cream.”
    I drop my hand. “Oh. Was that off limits?”
    “No, no, of course not. It's just...did he eat some of it?”
    “Yes,” I answer with furrowed brows. The amount of attention presently being placed on the ice cream consumption is definitely puzzling to me.
    “That's so odd,” she mutters to herself.
    “That he brought it up to you or that he ate it? It seems kind of strange that that was his reasoning