By Sofia Ruiz, TIWP student

 

“But how did you not see it?”

“I don’t know! I swear I’ve been looking this whole time.”

“Ugh the first shooting star of the night and you miss it! And I was so worried about you seeing it I didn’t get to make my wish!”

“Ugh, I’m sorry! There’ll be more!”

“Well I hope so…”

They both shifted uncomfortably on the blanket, the grass was rough beneath the fabric and they could feel it scratching their skin.

“I’ll make it up to you. If we don’t get to see any meteorites I’ll tell you my wish.”

“Ugh don’t be stupid.”

“What did I do now?”

“Ok, 1. You called a shooting star a ‘meteorite, and 2. You offered to tell me your wish!”

“You literally just repeated what I said back to me?”

The other figure raised their hands up to their face in frustration, and rubbed their eyes and temples.

“You are clueless. Shooting star is a much better name for something so spectacular that literally flies across the sky in a burst of light. And you can’t tell someone your wish or else it won’t come true! God, it’s like you were born a brain-dead adult!”

“I’m not a boring adult! Maybe if you were less of a child and started acting your age…”

“Ugh I’m not acting like a child. I’m acting like I still have life in my body. You have absolutely no sense of magic or wonder. Stargazing was a silly thing to do and I’m sorry I asked you to come.”

She moved away from him angrily to the edge of the blanket and kept her eyes on the sky. He huffed in frustration and turned to look up at the sky, too.They were silent for a while, stewing in their own angry thoughts. Until a silence hushed their thoughts, time stilled, and as they saw the gold swish across the deep blue sky, they hurriedly made their wishes.

They stayed silent for a while more.

She finally broke the silence. “Did you at least see this one?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“Good.”

“Yeah,” he hesitated before continuing, “did you get to make your wish this time?”

“Yes, I did,” she thought before continuing, “I wasn’t worried about you seeing it? So I had nothing to distract me…”

He rolled his eyes at her.

She continued, “And not that I care, but did you get to make your wish? Or are you too grown-up for that?”

Silence.

“I made it.” His voice was softer than before.

She nodded, approving in the dark.

“But I want to tell you what I wished for…”

Her nod became a vigorous shake of her head, “No no no! You are unbelievable! You can’t or else it won’t come true!”

“I don’t want it to.”

“Well then why did you wish it, stupid?”

“I was mad.”

“Whatever, fine, tell me”

“I wished that I had stayed home.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Silence.

“Can I tell you my wish, too, then?”

He turned to face her in disbelief.

“But then it won’t come true,” he mimicked her.

“Yeah, I know. But maybe I don’t want it to come true anymore, either.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“I wished I hadn’t invited you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I guess I am kind of a boring, unimaginative, terrible adult.”

“I never said that.”

“No, I did.”

“Well I guess I’m also a childish, silly, immature, hopeless romantic. I was kind of overreacting.”

“Now that sounds like something I would say.”

She punched his arm.

“Not that I would say it about you of course.”

“Sure.”

Silence.

“I am actually glad I came with you.”

Silence.

A sigh.

“I guess I’m glad I invited you.”

All of a sudden he grabbed her hand, and asked urgently,

“Did you see it?”

“Where?”

“The shooting star was literally right there. I can’t believe you missed it.”