“Do you now?”
“Yep.” He sits up tall and puffs out his chest, then turns toward me and smirks.
Wow. That smirk makes me want to relax, have fun. Forget everything that happened tonight and just enjoy the moment. I take a deep breath and try my best.
“Okay, big shot, what’s that one over there?” I ask.
“That constellation is Cassiopeia,” he responds candidly.
“Cassiopeia?”
“Do you know anything about mythology?”
“No, not really.”
“Have you ever heard about Perseus?”
“Wait, isn’t he the one in the movie with the hot guy . . .”
He grunts from beside me and I stifle a laugh. “Yes, he’s the hot guy from the movie. He’s also the one who killed Medusa to save Andromeda, the woman he loved. Remember?”
“Um, yeah, sure.”
“Okay, so where was I?”
“Telling me a really long story,” I chide.
“Hardy har har. Okay, yeah, so Cassiopeia was Andromeda’s mother. She was also married to the King of Ethiopia. She was an incredibly vain woman and believed she was above everyone and so was her daughter. One day she said her daughter was more beautiful than the goddess Juno. The gods decided to punish the country for this comment and let loose a sea monster to kill everyone. When given the choice to sacrifice her daughter Andromeda, and thus, save herself, she chose that route. Luckily for Andromeda, Perseus saved her, but still—”
“Holy shit. Sounds like my mom.” Our eyes meet and he furrows his brow. “She would easily sacrifice my well-being to make her life better,” I clarify, and he bites his lip in thought.
“I’m no stranger to crazy parents,” he mutters. I cock my head at him and wonder if he’ll clarify what he means, but after a few seconds of complete silence, I look back up to the sky. I guess he’s like me and doesn’t want to talk about it either.
“Then what happened?”
“After her daughter was saved, she was punished by being placed in the sky as a constellation in such a way that her head was upside down half the time . . . forever to be humiliated.”
“That’s pretty anticlimactic if you ask me. Where’s the humiliation in that? If my mom did that to me . . .” I take a deep breath. “I guess I wouldn’t do anything, either. At least this way, she hangs upside down half the year for eternity. That’s got to suck. Maybe next time my mom pisses me off, I can do that.” I laugh, but I’m only partly kidding. It would be nice to hold my mother accountable for her actions. However, that would require her to be around, not traveling the world and leaving me to raise myself.
“If only it were that easy, right?” he says, and I give him a half smile. It’s time to change the topic. Talking about my mom is not the way I want to spend my evening. Hanging with Matt and his bimbo would be more fun.
“What about you, Carson? Any weird things I should know? I mean, we’ll probably never see each other again? So you might as well tell me all of your secrets.”
He eyes me for a minute, and then shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Oh, come on. That’s not fair. I told you mine.” I pout and bat my eyelashes.
“I hate clowns,” he blurts out and I bust into a fit of giggles. “Like, despise them.”
“Really?”
His firm mouth curls as if it wants to smile, but he’s fighting it. A small dimple gives him away, though.
“Have you seen It?”
“You know that’s just a movie, right? Clowns are just normal people in a costume.” I laugh as I shake my head.
“Doesn’t stop me from hating them.”
“Any reason for this ‘hate’?” I air quote, obviously poking fun at him. From the corner of my eye, I can see his lips purse, holding back a laugh.
“Not that I can remember. Maybe I was tortured as a child.”
“Maybe,” I say and wait for him to laugh. But when he doesn’t, I narrow my eyes at him. “Wait, were you?” I shift toward him with one eyebrow raised.
“No. I do have mommy issues too, but she never tortured me,” he air quotes and I nod, but there is no mistaking the hollow look in his blue eyes. I can feel my own pain lodge in my chest at the thought.
“I feel you. Guess no life is perfect.”
“Ain’t that the truth? I’ll toast to that.”
I reach for the bottle and take another big gulp.
“Why constellations?” I ask him, looking back up to the spot he had pointed to before.
“Why not?”
“There has to be a reason?” He shrugs at my question. “You can tell me,” I say.