At the Edge of the Universe

“And the whole sky looked like this?”

“Yeah. In remote places where there weren’t any other lights around, you could sometimes see other galaxies.”

“What’s a galaxy?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s not important.”

Calvin didn’t speak for a while. He stared at the ceiling, his eyes lingering on one spot for a moment before moving to another.

“Why did you do this?” Calvin asked. “I mean, thank you, it’s beautiful, but why?”

I wasn’t about to tell him I’d arranged our DIY planetarium show because I felt guilty about ratting him out to Dr. Sayegh. And, anyway, that was only partially why I’d done it. “I’m worried about you,” I said.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” I fumbled for the words. “I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. It’s just, I thought if I could show you the stars, you might understand.”

Calvin glanced at me side-eye. “Understand what?”

“What we’ve lost.”

“You mean what you’ve lost. The rest of us can’t miss something we don’t remember.”

I wasn’t sure Calvin was talking about the stars anymore. “Sometimes it’s hard to focus on what’s right in front of me when all I can think about are the things behind me,” I said.

“Like Tommy?”

The wonder in Calvin’s voice had vanished, replaced by a density greater than all the stars combined. I tried to think of a way to explain it that would make sense, not only to Calvin but to myself. “You know how adults are always telling us that high school is the best time of our lives?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“It’s bullshit, right?”

“I guess.”

I watched the lights on the ceiling twinkle, knowing my memories of the real stars were filling in the gaps between the reality and what I was seeing. Our memories and experiences are the lenses through which we see the world, and even though Calvin and I were looking at the same exact lights, I knew we were seeing different things, and I wished I could see them through his eyes.

“I think people who believe high school was the greatest only remember their triumphs. They were adored as sports legends or were popular because they were beautiful. They had everything they ever wanted, and then they were thrust into the real world where no one knew anything about them. Their bosses and coworkers didn’t give a shit that they’d scored the winning touchdown in the homecoming game or had been surrounded by more friends than they could count. The real world is a disappointment to them because their past burned so brightly.”

Calvin was chewing his bottom lip. “So I’m a disappointment?”

“No!” I said more forcefully than I’d intended. “That’s not what I’m saying.” I was messing everything up. “Those people ignore the beauty in the present because they can’t stop living in the past. Which is stupid.”

“Oh,” Calvin said. Then, “Are you going to wait forever for Tommy to come back?”

“I don’t know. Would I be dumb if I did?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

I sat up and leaned on my elbow, angling my body toward Calvin. “I like you, Cal. I really do. But I’m terrified of what might happen if Tommy does return. Either way, I’d end up hurting one of you.”

“You’ll hate yourself if we get together and Tommy comes home, and you’ll hate yourself if you wait around Cloud Lake forever and Tommy never returns.”

“I guess none of it matters if we’re just brains in jars, right?”

“We’re not brains in jars, Ozzie.”

I didn’t know what else to say. I’d only planned to bring Calvin to my house to show him the stars to cheer him up. I hadn’t expected to discuss Tommy or us or anything. Instead of lifting Calvin from his dark mood, I’d thrust him deeper into it.

“I’d be lying if I claimed to understand what you’re going through,” Calvin said. His voice echoed against the walls, trying desperately to fill the void my family had left behind. “But how about this: I like you too, Ozzie. Maybe you’re right and we’re living in a simulation or a false vacuum or some parallel universe. Maybe none of this is real, but you’re real. This thing between us is real.”

“Cal—”

“So let’s see where it goes. For all we know, we could end up hating each other.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “That’s a terrible sales pitch,” I said. But he was right. My own parents were proof two people could spend half their lives together and wind up strangers.

“I don’t know, Cal.”

Calvin glanced at me but kept most of his attention on the stars above. “Let’s give whatever this is a try,” he said. “Go on a couple of dates, maybe go to prom. And if Tommy does come back, I’ll walk away. I won’t make you choose.”

“Why?”

“I think you might be worth it.”

Calvin was so different from Tommy, but the same in many ways. I didn’t deserve either of them.

“Just say yes,” Calvin said.

“But it’s not fair to you.”

Calvin turned toward me. “I know you’re afraid no one is going to live up to your memory of Tommy, but you’re lucky, you know. I’m afraid everyone is going to be like Coach Reevey. At least you know what it’s like to be in love. To know the guy you’re with loves you more than anything. I don’t have memories like that. All I have is a head full of nightmares. So, no, life’s not fair, and I’m still willing to take the risk. Are you?”

I felt like an asshole. After everything Calvin had been through, he was still game to take a chance, even knowing how bad it could turn out. And there I was, vacillating. I didn’t know whether it was possible to love and be loved again the way I’d loved and been loved by Tommy, but I thought not finding out might be the most idiotic decision I could make.

I leaned toward Calvin. He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed under the stars.

My lips were raw by the time we disentangled. All we’d done was kiss, but it had felt more intimate than trading blowjobs in the car on New Year’s Eve.

I lay on my back under the stars just grinning, my mind filled with Calvin.

“Your house is nice,” Calvin said when he’d caught his breath.

“It’s not my house anymore.”

“It’s nice anyway. Kind of empty, though.”

“Yeah, but it’s been empty for a long time.”

Calvin squeezed my hand, which he’d taken while we’d kissed and hadn’t let go. “How’s your brother?”

“Okay, I guess.” I hadn’t talked to Renny since our video chat, but Mom and Dad had given me daily updates. “There’s still too much swelling to see exactly how severe the damage is, and it’ll be a while before they’re ready to move him home, though he might make it by graduation.”

“That sucks,” Calvin said.

That summed up the situation well. It sucked he’d never walk again and it sucked he’d lost something he loved. It just . . . sucked.

Calvin sat up and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. “I should get home.”

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