“Sure, except it’s so dark there, deep inside the garbage bin.”
A laugh catches him by surprise. “And here I thought you believed I came from a place with fire and brimstone.”
“If anyone could annoy the devil himself, it’s you.” I look him up and down. “And don’t let the fans get to your head. You’re conventionally adequate, at best.”
“High praise coming from you.”
We’ve regained footing on familiar territory, returning to a shred of normalcy. Meaningless conversation speckled with mild roasting.
I turn toward the glistening water, eyes roaming over all the copper wishes sleeping soundly at the bottom. Wishing has always felt indulgent. For so long, my only wish was for my dad to get better. So I followed his decisions, lived up to the identity my parents had defined. I morphed into who they wanted me to be, because if I remained the pragmatic and unproblematic child and avoided conflict and did everything right, then maybe I could earn that wish. Maybe it would be enough to prove he deserved to get better.
All I’d learned is life doesn’t work that way.
I crane my neck skyward, into the depths of inky blackness and tiny pinpricks of freckled stars decorating the night’s canvas. It’s another thing my father appreciated about this place. The way you could see the universe so clearly. He used to say, in a great cosmic sense, the world was immeasurable. We were such a singular part of celestial coordinates that make up ever-expanding galaxies. I’ve never felt that more than I do now. Above the blanket of the universe lies so many unanswered questions. It feels trivial to be bogged down with my own humanity.
Disappointment creeps in. I’d been hoping for a sign. A hint he’s out there, somewhere among the stars, not fully untethered from us. Right now, I want to witness the grandeur and splendor he taught. Ripples of haloed auroras streaking through the night sky, large and loud and bright. Instead, the universe offers me stillness and with it, silence.
My throat works around a knot. Is there such a thing ascosmic significance? Because if the people and places you care about most in this world can cease to exist, does anythingactuallymatter?
I’ve already lost him. I don’t want to lose this place too. Not when so much of him remains here.
If there’s even the slightest chance I can ensure the school closure doesn’t happen, then I’ll do whatever it takes. Because if we really do matter, if we all exist in this one time and place for some great universal reason, then maybethisis what I’m supposed to do.
Sumner’s watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Got your wish?”
“I think so,” I say quietly. “You?”
He doesn’t break his gaze. “Yeah,” he says. “I got it.”
An eruption of cheers breaks through the conversation as midnight strikes. Students begin to let go of their wishes. Glints of copper rise high in the air before falling into the wide pool with a sound like heavy rain.
I tighten my fingers around the coin, closing my eyes. Of all the wishes I’ve made over the years, this one has to count. If this is the final time I put my trust in the universe, I need it to show me that I’m capable of doing this for my dad.
Give me what I need to make this place his again.
My eyes open. I wind my hand back and release it skyward with as much force as I can muster. The penny goes up, up,up—
And then, with the faintest plop, it splashes down into the water.
Sumner’s penny lands seconds after mine. Tiny ripples lap at the stone basin, the glistening floor winking with shiny copper. So many wishes and hopes and desires. Everyone has something they want.
Students begin to shuffle away from the fountain. People huddle together in close circles, their voices slowly rising.
“Winchel!”
Our attention veers toward the incoming shout. Brayden Oram, Sumner’s old roommate and my ex, waves before heading toward us.
Last year an unearthly demon somehow possessed my brother, because he randomly decided to ask if I had a crush on Sumner in front of the entire Hyde common room. I’d never told Jared about my short-lived feelings back in our first year, so it came out of nowhere. Sumner had been working on his calculus homework while I read in an armchair across from him, but he’d had such a visceral reaction to Jared’s question that he’d flinched, his knee knocking his textbook onto the ground, while my first instinct was to chuck a pen at Jared’s head from across the room and yell, “No, you moron.”
Sumner fumbled his textbook and collected his assignment before moving away from me, as if I’d somehow mutated into a deep-sea viperfish. A wave of mortification set my skin ablaze. Butinstead of throttling Jared, I took the extremely rational route and said yes when Brayden Oram asked me out, if only to prove Jared was an instigating liar. I refused to give Sumner a reason to ever bring it up again, let alone fuel his ego.
Sumner’s eyes jump to mine before shifting back to Brayden, but I don’t anticipate this turning into an awkward encounter. Brayden’s harmless, a short king with a mind for engineering and a perpetual habit of losing his Invisalign trays. So, naturally, Sumner found every possible opportunity to roast me. “He smells like potato chips,” he’d say, or, “He saysoopsie-daisywhen he drops something, Carmichael.”
Although this may sound like hell, it had the desired effect. I was only going along with it to smooth over the conflict my dumbass brother had created, therefore resetting the natural order of things. Which is not a good reason to go out with someone, but as it turns out, Brayden’s sole idea of romance was making out with me, a hobby he did not excel in, so it was a relief when he got bored and ended it.
“Hey, Delaney,” he says, then glances up at Sumner. “Surprised they didn’t stick us together again this year.”
Sumner pulls his hands into his pockets. “Guess not.”
