When Stars Burn

Chapter Four: The Perfect Arrangement

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***

I was a morning person because someone in the family had to be.

Someone had to cook, clean and get the day going while the rest of them slept until past noon.

I had practice over years but it didn't mean that I was full of sunshine after working through the night at Uni-Save and spending two early hours of my morning making and serving breakfast to thirty teens at the Lighthouse, a shelter for troubled, run-away youth where I bank at least six volunteer hours a week. I made so much scrambled eggs I couldn't eat anything but a Pop Tart with a tall cup of coffee.

Hailey was there, cranky with eyes still rimmed black with mascara and eyeliner from the night before. She's eighteen and stuck there volunteering every weekend with an itch she couldn't scratch anymore. She's yet to fail from taking it out on everyone there. She had been flipping the sausages so slowly you'd think they were made of rocks. When I, despite my better judgement, told her to speed it up just a bit so people wouldn't be eating char for breakfast, she gave me a cold glare and walked out to go for a smoke. I had to step in and cook the rest of it. She's not known for her maturity, a fact I've been so tempted many times to remind her of, but I didn't want to risk a confrontation. It would be best for all if I just skimmed the fringes of her awareness. It was a convenient coincidence that she was expelled during her senior year in high school. It meant she couldn't enroll in Prescott at the same time I did.

Sufficiently smelling of a greasy kitchen and permanently squinting against the glaring sun that was still warm in California even in the middle of fall, I hauled my luggage out of Uni-Save's stockroom.

My head was pounding, my stomach was making rude noises and my face was melting off in the heat.

I was determined though.

I had an escape from Kendra and I had a beautiful room waiting for me.

Then there was the mysterious roommate I'd been emailing back and forth with in the last couple of days since I said yes. I asked to meet him once but he had the convenient excuse of having to attend a birthday dinner. I haven't had a chance to ask again in the three short days since we went from being absolute strangers to future roommates. I thought about at least calling him but something in the back of my head was warning me away from it. It was almost as if I didn't want to know what he would sound like. That something about it would force me to change my mind when this opportunity was too perfect for me right now. So we kept it in email. We had boring conversations about his house rules (which I could count in one hand) and my house rules (which would need an extra pair of hands). But outside of those, we talked. Nothing serious but something like...

To: Star Matthews <star.matthews@prescott.edu>

From: W. W. <thewildeone@gmail.com>

Subject: Throwback Thursday

Do you like music? Do you hate any particular artists? I'm listening to Sheryl Crow right now. It's totally cheesy, right?

To: W. W. <thewildeone@gmail.com>

From: Star Matthews <star.matthews@prescott.edu>

Subject: Re: Throwback Thursday

Angsty. And no, I don't hate any particular kind of music or artist. Just don't play it loud or run around the house belting it out while in your underwear.