- Rebecca Harrel
Looking Towards the Stars
Updated: Apr 9
“There’s a meteor shower tonight.” My brother, Noah, appeared in the archway between our dining and family rooms.
I lay sprawled across the loveseat, leg hooked over the armrest as I scrolled on my phone. “That’s cool.”
“Do you want to go see it?”
I sat up, my full attention suddenly riveted on him. “Go? Like, go where?”
“It starts at midnight. I want to get food, and then I was thinking we go to Lion’s Peak. It’s one of my rock climbing spots.”
I was tired, but the sky would be beautiful on a cool spring night. Besides, graduation was around the corner, and the appeal of a spontaneous night out with Noah before he left was too great to turn down.
“Let me get a jacket.”
After a pit stop for Jack-in-the-Box curly fries, we made our way to a hill in the middle of nowhere. Technically, it was only thirty minutes down a less-kept road, but with neither a street lamp or Starbucks in sight, it was good enough. Eminem blasted from the speakers as Noah rapped along flawlessly. I stumbled over every third word. By the time we drove off the road and into the dirt surrounding our destination, we were both grinning, pumped up with excitement.
Noah shut off the engine once we parked at the base of the hill.
I stared up at the massive mound of dirt and rock in front of us. “We’re climbing that?”
He rolled his eyes. “We don’t have to go all the way up.”
I glanced back at the car. “Will Job be okay just sitting here?”
“Do you see anyone around?”
I gave in and we began the trek up the rocky path.
Noah’s car had earned the name Job because, in its long life, it had seen some trials. While I tried to distance myself from news of the car’s repeated breakdowns, I would occasionally hear about a piece falling out, the transmission needing to be replaced, or some work that should probably get done to keep the engine from blowing. The car couldn’t get over a speed bump without scraping the side. However, that issue was mainly caused by the many alterations Noah had made. The car was so low, the bottom nearly touched the ground. The band-aid bumper sticker that covered a massive scratch was just as tacky as it was creative. To say that Job was being held together by prayers and zipties was an accurate statement.
Despite my relentless teasing of the car’s condition, I always opted to drive with Noah when given the opportunity. We had our favorite songs that we would turn on, featuring “Shut up and Dance,” “Despacito,” and plenty of rap. There was something charming about the process of cranking down the manual windows, jiggling the cigarette lighter auxiliary into place, and bumping down the road in beat with the music. In the car, I could talk to Noah about the stupid things I did with my friends or school drama. Then he’d regale me with tales from his last late night out with “the boys.”
I couldn’t count the nights that Noah and Job had been my saviors, driving me around when I was stuck home alone. When my mom was gone, taking care of her best friend in hospice,or when my Dad was in the hospital after his first two heart attacks, Noah would drive me to class, activities, and friends’ houses. Those twenty to thirty-minute trips were the moments of peace I needed when my world was falling apart.
And this cool spring night was no different. We made stupid jokes as we climbed, staring at the sky as the city lights faded and hundreds of stars popped into view. The cold air stung as I forced air through my asthmatic lungs. About halfway up, we located a relatively smooth rock to lay across. With the bag of fries between us, we stared at the endless abyss of glittering stars overhead. For more than an hour, we lay, searching for a meteor to strike across the sky. All we found was the still beauty of the galaxy.
Over the past year Noah and I had shared countless nights out and just as many meals. We would pick up Mexican food and chill while our parents were out. Our go-to was the mediocre carne asada fries from the corner with a random show playing on the TV. We didn’t watch the same things, so I always just let him pick. Those days it was easy to forget the arguments we had, the way he pushed my buttons till I tearfully screamed in response, but when it was just us and some food, there didn’t seem to be anything to fight about.
I had a lot of reasons to be mad at my brother, to complain about or ignore him, but I had just as many reasons to love him. My overly spontaneous brother who forced me to go on 10pm In-N-Out runs and random stargazing trips.
“Is that one?” Noah pointed to the sky, where something appeared to move.
“I think that’s a plane.” I laughed. “You sure there’s a meteor shower?”
“According to google.” He rustled through one of the bags and pulled out a fry. “If we wait I’m sure we’ll see something.”
“You excited for prom?” The thought of a homeschool prom was still weird to me, but if he wanted to go, that was what mattered.
“Yeah. I’m thinking about asking that girl to go with me. You know, the one I was texting. But I can’t figure out if she’s dating the other guy in our friend group, or if she even likes me.”
I laughed. “If she’s dating someone else, it’s probably a no.”
“But I don’t know if she actually is.”
“I wouldn’t risk it.”
He shrugged. “Her sister is single, maybe I’ll ask her.”
“Umm, that’s weird.”
“Eh, we’ll see.”
I tried to stay in the loop with his dating endeavors. Unfortunately, he’d had little luck so far. Occasionally he would try to ask me for girl advice, but as someone horribly oblivious to social cues with no concept of romance, I was of little help. Still, I appreciated him coming to me at all. The thought that he valued anything I had to say brought me a warm sense of pride.
But soon he would be leaving.
I sighed, my eyes tracing the constellations above. “Everything’s going to be different when you’re gone.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Mom won’t be. You’re totally her favorite.”
“Pfft.” He pulled another fry from the bag. “No way, you’re the girl.”
“But you’re more like her.” I was excited that he was going. He constantly talked about wanting to be on his own, but I knew when he finally left for college he wouldn’t be coming back. He wasn’t just leaving home, he was abandoning me. “Even now, when Mom thinks about you going to college, she freaks.”
“She’s fine.”
“No, she’s not. You would see that if you weren’t gone all the time.”
“It’s not like I’ll be gone forever. Plus, I already promised I’d call.”
“Yeah, well, it’ll be boring at home by myself.”
He laughed. “Just wait. Once you have your license, you’ll be busy all the time.”
“I doubt that, but sure.” I crossed my arms. “You have to like, text me and stuff, okay? I don’t want to be those siblings that leave home and never talk anymore.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not like I’ll leave and cut ties, alright? Besides, I’ll only be an hour away, so I think we’ll be fine.”
A star suddenly dropped from the sky. Appearing and vanishing in the span of a second, I barely caught sight of it before it was gone.
“Did you see that? That was definitely a meteor.” He pointed to where the speck seemed to appear.
It was there and gone so fast I couldn’t be sure if it was anything more than a star flickering through a cloud, but in that moment, after an hour of nothing, I believed him. I had to. “Yeah. Yeah I think so, too.”