Daphne forced herself to slow down long enough to see April in the water next to her, April’s arm around her waist.
“What are you doing?” Daphne asked, legs frantically treading water.
“What amIdoing?” April asked. “You’re drowning.”
“I am not! I’m just—”
But she wasn’t sure what she was doing. She was in the lake fully clothed, a mere twenty feet or so from the dock, with her ex’s ex-fiancée floating next to her looking like a drowned rat, mascara streaming down her cheeks.
“Why did you jump in here?” Daphne asked.
“I didn’t know if you could swim,” April said, wiping the water out of her eyes. “And you were in shock. It’s deep in this part of the lake.”
“You’re an idiot,” Daphne said, but she started laughing.
“Me?” April said, splashing her. “You’re the one who fell in a lake.”
Daphne laughed harder, which was not very conducive to keeping herself afloat.
“God, don’t drown now,” April said, tugging her toward the canoe. Her arm was tight around Daphne’s waist, her face close as she directed them both.
It was no small feat getting back into the canoe without tipping the whole thing over. It took a few tries, Cloverwild guestsobserving from the dock with glasses of champagne as though watching a show.
Finally, they managed to spill onto the boat’s floor like slippery eels, lying next to each other and breathing hard, their limbs entangled and soaked to the skin.
Daphne looked up at the sky, stars spread over the dark like glitter. For a second, she understood why April loved them so much. They made her feel small and big at the same time. Inconsequential, just a cluster of cells riding around on a rock in the middle of space. But also, a point of life in the middle of all that chaos.
Abeing.
“Show me something,” she said, waving her hand at the sky.
“What?” April said.
“A constellation. A star. Anything.”
April was quiet for a moment but then lifted her hand and pointed. “You see that line right there?” She traced the sky, dragging her finger down and to the side. “Then how it forks, like an upside-down V?”
Daphne squinted, following April’s fingers as they outlined the shape again, stars forming what sort of looked like a broom.
“I see it,” Daphne said.
“That’s the crab.”
“The crab?”
“Cancer,” April said, turning to look at Daphne. “You.”
Daphne met her gaze. “Me?”
“At least, that’s your moon sign,” April said.
Daphne’s mouth dropped open a little. “How did you know that?”
April smiled softly. “I have a knack. I’m still working on your sun and rising.”
“I could just tell you.”
“Nah,” April said, sitting up and carefully moving herself to the bow seat. She picked up the paddle and started rowing them back to the dock. “I like figuring it out.”
