“Me too,” Gavin says, probably feeling the same way.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a trampoline?” Brennan asks Callie. “I’d have come over sooner if I had known.” I can’t help but notice that his tone and his mannerisms are less flirty and more platonic than he was at the town hall meeting. So maybe I imagined it? Maybe Brennan doesn’t have heart-eyes for Callie.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been on it. I forgot how much fun it is.” Callie sighs, smiling. “Most of my friends go away for the summer. But the beautification initiative just launched, so I had to stay behind for the farmer’s market,” Callie says. “It’s the summer before my senior year, though, and I was kind of sad thinking I’d be spending it without any friends. That changed when you three showed up. This is the best summer I’ve ever had.”
I feel slightly guilty thinking that this is the worst summer for me. But being with Callie is the best part about it, so I don’t feel like I’m lying when I say, “Me too.”
“Me three,” Gavin says.
“Me four,” Brennan says.
The four of us lie on the trampoline with our heads in the middle of it. The night sky is blanketed with stars.
“This may sound ignorant, but these are the same stars people see in other parts of the world, right?” I ask. “I’m only wondering because they’re brighter than the ones I’m used to seeing, and there seem to be more of them.”
“They’re the same ones,” Brennan confirms. “They just seem brighter here because there isn’t any light pollution to drown out their shine.”
“If you think these are bright, wait until the shower starts. You’ll be blown away,” Callie says.
“Wait, I think I see them.” I point to the lights flickering above us.
“I see them too.” Gavin squints.
Callie and Brennan glance at each other before bursting into laughter.
“What?” I ask, only slightly self-conscious. It’s clear they’re laughing at us, but not in a mean way.
“Those aren’t meteors,” Callie says.
“Or anything celestial for that matter,” Brennan adds. “They’re fireflies.”
“Ah,” I say, cringing. “That would explain it. I don’t do bugs.”
“You must be city folks,” Callie says in a fake Southern accent.
“Not from round these parts, eh?” Brennan adds, playing along. He doesn’t have to try as hard as Callie to get that Southern twang.
Gavin and I share a laugh.
“You’re from LA, right?” Callie asks, dropping her accent.
The question silences our laughter. I glance sideways at Gavin, who seems as conflicted as I am. It was easier to hide certain details of our lives when we thought it would help our chances in the appeal. Now that the appeal is over, there’s no reason why we can’t be honest about who we are. But I can’t seem to get the words out.
“Yeah,” Gavin says before the silence becomes awkward. “I lived in a condo on the twenty-sixth floor in Westwood, far from the natural habitat of an insect.” He gives me a subtle look that tells me it’s okay. I think he means that he wants to open up to them more, and I do too.
“What, bugs in LA don’t take elevators up to the twenty-sixth floor?” Brennan teases.
“The only type of bugs I’m used to are ones trapped under cups, waiting for someone to get rid of them. And that someone is not me.” I don’t tell them it’s Tony, our gardener, or Carolina, our house manager, or any of the other staff members we had on our payroll who got rid of the bugs. Still, it feels good to share a part of my life with them, even one as trivial as this.
“No, you? The person who didn’t want to lie on the field to watch the meteor shower tonight?” Callie says, pretending to be shocked.
“It was my secret plan to jump on the trampoline,” I say, even though I had no idea she had one.
“Honestly I’m glad it was. The trampoline was such a good idea. Even the view here seems better,” Brennan says.
“What part of the sky should we look at?” Gavin asks.
“All of it,” Callie says.
