Starry Night 3: Stars

My Mom, now, asks me what I did at Danica's house. I guess it's worth asking. I got there ate like two thirty and I left there at nearly eight. But it was--oh my goodness it was so good. And although I told my mom that we didn't do much, it meant so much to me. 

'Cause we just lay there on the floor talking and being punny and laughing and talking about things with wings. We just sat on the couch and I played Halo with Hobbs, which was hilarious 'cause he kept killing me and I kept being super confused but laughing still. We just drew on Hobbs' chalkboard wall, and played with Danica's little sister, and ate candy and sat on Danica's bed in silence and talked about cute baby books and oh my goodness played with toys. 

But I'm going back there again someday, mind or no. Right now I'm sitting next to Danica with her little sister's arm around me, watching The Happy Family {boys+Barbies=what the heck} on YouTube. Right now I'm, yup, playing Halo.

Right now, I'm standing on a fold-up brown chair in Hobbs' room drawing on his wall, and sometimes I'll be writing something and Danica will just stand back and I'll feel her eyes on me. 

Like next to her picture of Saturn. Tell me, did you sail across the sun? And on the hot air balloon that was the first thing almost that I drew. I'll be out of my mind. And by the grass she said was green. Grass is for sitting, not eating. {Yeah Danica.}

And she tells me when I'm drawing stars at the top that I should listen to a song that I haven't found the time for yet. And some of those lyrics ...


Of all the stars out tonight
You shine brighter

Then I'll sneak onto her computer to leave her a note in a tab I hope nobody's closed yet. I'll sneak a look at her mirror because there are the two glittery stars that were my crappy Christmas present. 

We're sitting on the couch watching Phineas and Ferb and I can see her eyes shining brighter than any stars. Her parents drive me home and we chat but she's sucking her lip and I saw the sad smile on her face when I drew a star on my window like I always do, for her. That smile, sweeter than any laundry basket*.

*Which, according to Danica, taste like plastic. I have yet to affirm this, because I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to lick your friends' laundry baskets.



So I say nothing as we hold our breath and joke about stuff on the way back and I almost forget to lean over and give her a hug. I don't want her to cry because of me. Because I know one thing.

Hope is a citrus constellation in the galaxy scratched at the back of both my eyelids that I've been dying to see ... 

But I guess I've finally opened my eyes. Because there are stars all over Danica's room. My sticky notes are on her wall and so are my drawings and she has a box on the top shelf of my letters and she says that she's got a favorite. I realized something--that these previous nights, I've been crying because I miss things. I miss so much. 

I missed me. 

But I'm back now. I'm ready to shine, because I know someone out there will see.

And there are those little promises, too. Those little things I know I can and want to do. Like write Georgie a birthday song. Go skating for my birthday with ALL of my friends. Inside jokes aplenty that Danica, Hobbs and I are going to do on Monday. And someone has to go to China to bring Danica back a star.

Not that she isn't one already.