Chapter 13
chapter thirteen
lily
They climbed up onto the top of the van, staring at the stars through the circle of trees. It was like looking through a telescope of leaves—a tiny window to a piece of the sky that seemed to be just for them. Mary plugged in her headphones and offered an earbud to Lily. The two girls lay there, just listening.
“Most of Sirius’s family is named after stars, right?” Mary asked after a while.
“Yep,” Lily said. “The funniest part is Sirius B is an actual star, and apparently is a very dim and hot white dwarf.” She made quotation marks in the air.
Mary snickered. “Why do you even know that?”
“The guys bring it up in conversation at least twice a day.” Lily deadpanned, even though Mary probably couldn’t see her face in the dark. Mary laughed, and Lily couldn’t help but smile.
“If you could be a star,” Mary asked, suddenly, “Which would you be?”
Lily startled. She hadn’t expected that question. “Gosh, I don’t know. What star would you be?” Mary made a soft “hmm” sound beside her.
“Something in a constellation. I don’t think I could stand being alone forever.” She spread her fingers out above her, like she could pull the stars out of the sky and hold them in her hand. Pointing to a bright speck, flickering amongst a group of many others, she said, “Maybe that one.”
Lily thought. “Well, then, I’d be the one beside you.”
“I think I’d like that,” Mary said softly. “I hope we’d be able to see Earth. From space.”
“Oh, Mary,” Lily said. “I think the rest of the universe is wide enough that we wouldn’t miss it at all.” She could imagine it—floating among stars, beside Mary. Every day, waking up to purples and blues painted around them like watercolor. In their ears, the music was still playing.
Happy to lie back watch it burn and rust
We tried the world, good God, it wasn't for us
~~~
Lily and Mary spent the next day much the same as the day before—at lunchtime, they walked over to a snack shop by the place to rent canoes and sat under the shade of a maple tree. Mary looked up at her with a sandwich in her mouth, and wiggled her fingers cheekily when she noticed Lily lifting her camera to take a picture.
They walked around the lake for a while after, and found a grassy clearing to sit in. It was scattered with daisies and dandelions, and pink and yellow hollyhocks grew in groups around the stumps of trees.
“Oooh, can I braid daisies into your hair?” Mary asked, having already stuck sprigs of lavender behind her ears. Lily smiled.
“Sure,” she said, looking at the white butterflies flitting from flower to flower.
“Here, turn around,” Mary said. “Tell me if I’m pulling too hard.” She didn’t pull at all, gentle, deft fingers weaving through Lily’s hair.
“Are you doing French braids?” Lily asked, picking at her nails.
“Yup.” Mary said, picking a daisy and weaving it among Lily’s locks. “Marls made me braid her hair before football practices because she’s shite at it.” Lily giggled a little, and then shivered when one of Mary’s nails grazed the back of her neck. “Sorry,” Mary said.
“Oh no, it’s fine.” Lily said, almost wishing Mary would do it again.
“There, done,” Mary said. Lily pulled a braid over her shoulder to look at it. Mary scooted to sit beside her. “Hey, let’s take a picture with that camera of yours!” Mary poked her in the cheek, grinning. Lily hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek. She didn’t like pictures of herself, but…
“Well… why not,” Lily said, and Mary cheered. She seemed to notice Lily’s discomfort, and snaked an arm around her waist. Lily looked at Mary—the lavender was slipping off her ear, and she had glitter from the remnants of yesterday’s makeup dusted on her cheeks. She smiled, softly—what had she done to deserve her?
Click!
“Oh, fuck, I wasn’t looking at the camera, sorry.” Lily swore. “Try again?”
“Of course,” Mary said, wrapping her arm a little tighter. Lily felt extremely warm—she hoped her cheeks didn’t turn out looking too red in the photo.
Click!
The camera whirred and buzzed as the photos printed. Lily took them, shaking them as they developed. “Does that really work?” Mary asked skeptically. Lily shrugged.
“It’s more tradition at this point,” she said, bumping Mary’s shoulder teasingly.
“Ahh, I see,” Mary laughed. Lily tilted the photographs—outlines were beginning to form. Slowly, the images lightened. In one, Mary had held up the camera, grinning, and Lily was looking at her, completely unaware. She was smiling like an idiot, and her face was flushed pink. Her eyes were softer than she’d ever seen them. Did she always look at Mary like that—like she was the most precious thing in the world? Lily felt panic stir in her stomach, and shoved the picture in her pocket when Mary looked away.
“It’s done developing,” Lily said, handing Mary the one where she was actually looking at the camera, not staring at Mary soppily. “The other one didn’t turn out, sorry,” Lily lied. Mary looked at her for a moment, and shrugged a little, like she was willing to go along with Lily’s strangeness.
“Wait, I might have a pen,” Mary said, shifting to check the back pocket of her jean shorts. “Yep!” She uncapped it with her teeth and scrawled Mary and Lily and the date on the little white section below the polaroid. “In case you forget me someday when you’re on the Supreme Court.”
Lily punched her in the arm. “I couldn’t forget you if I tried.” Was that weird? Lily cringed at herself. It was easier to say things like that when it was dark and she couldn’t see Mary’s reaction.
But—Mary smiled, and all was well.
They walked back to the shop and bought popsicles, and then waded in the water for a while, licking their sticky fingers. “You know, me and Parkinson actually made some pretty good money selling weed in tenth year.” Lily choked, coughing.
“Oh my god, Mary!” She wheezed, a piece of her popsicle falling into the water. “Paige? The scary one?”
“Well, she’s not that scary—but yeah. Our stash got confiscated a few months in, but I still get people coming up to me every once in a while asking if I’m still selling,” Mary giggled. “I could be a millionaire right now.” Lily gave her a side-eye, and Mary stuck her tongue out and licked her popsicle. “Paige knew a guy who had LSD, too. Man, could’ve had it all.” Mary sighed exaggeratedly.
“Shit, didn’t know I was friends with a full on drug dealer,” Lily teased.
Mary stuck her tongue out. “I don’t deserve the title. Lost my supply too quick.”
Lily cackled, and the rest of her popsicle fell into the water. “Fuck!”
“Sucks to suck,” Mary said, grinning. Lily gasped, putting a hand on her chest.
“Mean!”
“You want mine?”
Lily really did adore Mary.
chapter thirteen
mary
“Where are we going today, Ms. Frizzle?” Mary asked as Lily typed something into Google Maps. Lily glared at her.
“Christ, do not call me Ms. Frizzle,” Lily moaned. “The visual of you as one of my students is really one I don’t want to have.” Mary giggled.
“She’s ginger!” Mary said, and Lily waved her hand in Mary’s face.
“Not all gingers are the same.” She resolutely ignored Mary’s protests of “not true—all of you are soulless monsters sent from Lucifer or something—”, and handed her the phone. “We’re going to Cairngorms National Park.”
“Never heard of it,” Mary mused.
“It’s in Scotland.” Lily told her.
“Right,” Mary said, and looked at Lily firmly. “I’m driving.” Lily opened her mouth, presumably to protest, but Mary held up her index finger. “Shh. Shut up. You go… sleep. Or listen to music or something. You’ve already driven for like ninety percent of the trip.” Lily crossed her arms, pouting.
“You suck.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mary teased. The drive was only three hours, so they started the playlist and drove through the rolling Scottish highlands. Mary may have glanced at Lily more than once instead of looking at the road, but her driving was no less bad than Lily’s. At least she didn’t drive at a steady forty on highways and brake for every bird that was stupid enough to land on the road, right? Of course.
Lily curled up in the passenger seat, wrapping her arms around her legs and leaning her head against the window. Mary looked at her through the mirror, tapping her nails on the steering wheel. They didn’t look very pretty anymore—the polish was chipping off and her cuticles were very bitten. “We’re almost there,” Mary said. Gertrude confirmed this a moment later, telling them their destination was in five hundred feet, on the left. “Thanks, Gertrude.”
“Fuck you, Gertrude,” Lily mumbled.
“When AI takes over, Gertrude will remember that.”
“Gertrude won’t remember anything, because I’m gonna punch her bitchass skull in,” Lily hissed, raising a fist threateningly.
“Gertrude doesn’t have a skull!” Mary cackled.
“Technicalities.” Lily said, sticking her tongue out.
They drove into a parking lot, already teeming with other tourists. Lily took out her day bag and gave Mary suncream to lather on (which smelled a lot like Lily, and which may or may not have made Mary feel extremely fluttery). They got out of the van, and Mary was instantly struck with how pretty the landscape was. The rolling hills were covered in not only green moss and grass, but purple and pink flowers and brown and orange rocks. All of the tourists there were just as starstruck as Mary, leaning up against the railings surrounding the parking lot.
“Y’know what this place reminds me of?” Mary said, when they started walking along a trail. “The hills from the Sound of Music.” She spun around dramatically, and Lily laughed. “I suddenly have the urge to break out in song.”
“I haven’t watched that movie in years!” Lily said. “But totally, oh my god.”
“The hills are alive…” Mary sang, grabbing Lily’s hands and twirling her around, much to the amusement of the couple walking past them. Lily flushed, laughing, and swatted her away. “With the sound of muuuuusic… with songs they have sung… for a thousand years…”
“The hills fill my heart…” Lily sang reluctantly, and Mary gasped. “With the sound of music… my heart wants to sing every song it hears. I’m not gonna sing more than that.”
“Oh, but your voice is so pretty!” Mary said, looking at her in wonder.
“You’ve got to be joking,” Lily looked at her dryly. “Everyone else who’s heard me sing says I sound like I’m choking on phlegm or something.” They had ended up holding hands, and Mary shifted so their fingers were intertwined. Mary looked down at brown fingers twined with pale freckled ones, and thought that Lily’s hands fit perfectly into hers. Like they were meant to be there all along.
“They were lying to your face, Lils,” she said firmly, swinging their hands.
Lily scoffed, but didn’t protest. She turned, and her hair whirled around her like a halo. Lily in the summer was all golden eyes and freckles and beach waves—bright and sunny. She looked like she’d belong in a cottage, writing poetry and sitting on a tree swing—fairylike and utterly stunning. Mary suddenly wondered what Lily would look like in autumn. Would she wear scarves and beanies, and was she the kind of person to flush in the cold? Mary wanted to see Lily in every season—wanted to see the tiny shifts in the way she looked as the weather changed.
Lily took her camera out of her bag and held it up to her eyes. “It really is gorgeous here.”
“Yeah,” Mary sighed, not really looking at the hills.
They walked for a while, making their way up sloping hills and looking out over the blue cotton candy skies. They never stopped holding hands, and every once in a while Lily’s hip bumped against Mary’s and Mary’s entire body erupted in tingles. Butterflies flew lazily in the fields, landing on flowers with wings fluttering like a heartbeat. One mistook Lily’s bright hair for a poppy, and landed on her head, much to Mary’s amusement. Mary took a picture with Lily’s camera of Lily smiling, looking like she was on the verge of laughter. They’d been standing too close all day, and it occurred to Mary how easy it would be to kiss her here, among the flowers and hills and sunshine. She’d only have to lean forward a little… and it almost seemed as if Lily wanted her to. But there were people around, and maybe she’d been reading every sign wrong. Anyway, Mary was satisfied with twined fingers and lingering hugs. And if that’s all it ever was, Mary thought she’d be satisfied with that too.
As long as she got to keep knowing Lily Evans.
Silently, she handed Lily an earbud, and they kept walking, held together by a flimsy cord. Mary squeezed Lily’s hand, and Lily rubbed her thumb so lightly she thought she might have imagined it.
But I feel better when you call
Just to tell me how you are
How’d you do that?
How’s tomorrow so far?
You make me homesick for places I’ve never been before
How’d you do that?
How’s tomorrow so far?