Free The Stars Will Shine by Eva Carrigan Page B

stop it.
    “Wait,” he says. “I just wanted you to know that I’m telling your aunt now…you know, that you had nothing to do with stealing the wine. That way you don’t have to keep sneaking out for work.” There’s a shadow in his eyes that suggests he’s remembering how Dylan treated me yesterday. “I know that must be a pain.”
    I push my lips to the side and look away. “Thank you.”
    He lingers for a few more seconds then takes off down the hallway toward the window at the end. I stick my head out the doorway, watching him with stitched brows.
    “You know, my Aunt is that way,” I say, pointing toward the staircase in the opposite direction. He doesn’t respond, but when he reaches the end of the hallway, he throws the window open, turns around, and with a wink, crawls backward through the opening and disappears. I stand there for a moment, a blank face, then head downstairs. Whether he tells her or not, I’m still leaving for work.
    As I round the curve of the stairs, my fingertips skimming the polished oak wood railing, I hear Aunt Miranda say, “You’re a woman now, Leah.” I imagine her hand running delicately over Leah’s light blonde hair, maternal, protective, and proud.
    You’re a woman now?
    Thick air swamps me, and I have to steady myself by leaning into the railing and grasping it with both hands. Because those words are familiar to me, and they carry with them a crushing weight. You see, I remember once saying them to myself— You’re a woman now —right after my brother’s best friend, Tommy Higgins, took my virginity.
    And, boy, was I in love. I remember how I threw my arms across my face, a long helpless sigh on my lips and a deep blush in my cheeks; how my heart pounded against my ribcage, setting a fast tempo for the song that hummed through my body; how I walked out of my room that night for a glass of water after Tommy slipped back downstairs to sleep on the couch outside my brother’s room, and felt like I was five years older than I was, thought the world would now see me as a woman when I barely even hit puberty. You’re a woman now . Like one milestone can completely change our identity. No, I’d been blinded by a want and a rush, a shitload of naivety, and an attractive specimen of the male species. I wasn’t a woman then, and I’m sure as hell not a woman now.
    Aunt Miranda and Leah move down the hall toward my aunt and uncle’s room, and when they’re voices fade, I stand there, still recalling things I don’t want to recall. A hard bump on my shoulder brings me back, and I snap my head up to see Dylan pass me. He says nothing, just treads lazily down the rest of the stairs and heads toward the kitchen. Weakly, I follow.
    After about three minutes of rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, still harboring hope there might be something unhealthy here to eat, the doorbell rings. Aunt Miranda’s slippered feet scuttle down the hall and across the foyer. She swings the front door open, and I reluctantly slide her homemade granola and nut mix off the cupboard shelf, listening in on her talk with the visitor.
    “What are you doing here?” she says. Her tone is sharp, unwelcoming. I’m curious as to who she’s speaking to with such disdain. Because, let’s face it, I have something in common with this person.
    “Mrs. Kyler, I feel the need to speak with you in order to clear up some confusion.” I perk up, my eyebrows pulling together. Is that voice...I swear it’s…
    I make my way to the archway between the kitchen and the open hallway that leads to the entryway, and I peek out just enough so that to Aunt Miranda only the top right of my face would be visible if she happened to look my way. Luckily, her back is to me as she stands in the doorway with her hands on her hips. She throws her arms to her side in resignation and waves the visitor in with a curt, “Fine.” I pull back a little so that she won’t see me when she turns around. That’s when I