And the stars were watching them back

Mariah sat in one of the chairs around the campfire and looked up at the stars. She leaned her neck all the way back, so the only things in her field of vision were the leafy tops of the trees and the stars winking down at her. This way she could block out the tents and forget that there were other kids inside of them. She wanted to be alone, or rather, she wanted the quiet that came with being alone.

Technically Mariah was supposed to be asleep in one of those tents. You needed permission to get up during the night, even if it was just to go to the washroom. It’s for your own safety, the counselors insisted. We need to know where you are at all times. There was a counselor in each of the tents, but Mariah’s counselor, Donna, slept like a rock, and she was one of the less strict counselors anyways.

So Mariah sat outside as everyone else slept soundly. She would be tired for the hike tomorrow, but she wouldn't have been able to sleep anyways, knowing Nat was on the other side of the tent, just two bodies away from Mariah.

The stars. They reminded Mariah that she was only a small part of the universe. Infinitesimal in the grand scheme of things. Maybe that should be a stressful thought, spurring her into an existentialist spiral, but Mariah found it comforting. The stars didn’t care that Mariah liked girls. They wouldn’t be hurt like her mother would, her mother who went to church most days of the week and refused to go anywhere without her pocket-sized Bible. Her mother who envisioned a future in which Mariah got married to a nice man in a nice chapel and gave her mother grandchildren.

Mariah was an only child. It was all riding on her, and she couldn’t even have crushes properly.

The stars blurred as Mariah sniffed, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her fleece sweater. It was a gross thing to do, but there was no one around to impress. Here, at night, with only the stars for company, there was no one to let down or live up to.

Mariah was overwhelmed with the unfairness of it all. That she was only fifteen and doomed to experience heartbreak before she could ever experience anything even approximating love. That she had to be so sorry just for thinking something as simple as holding Nat’s hand might make her the happiest person alive.

Nat...

She knew it was silly, of course she did. Desire made everything so dramatic. But when she thought about Natalie....

It was like they found every possible excuse to touch each other. Like when Mariah was boasting about winning her fifth round of Uno in a row, and Nat shoved her playfully, shouting for revolution. Or when Nat reached over and pulled the hair tie out of Mariah’s hair, so that it would fall around her shoulders. “See? Pretty,” Nat would say, and Mariah would just melt. She thought about it every morning as she pulled her hair up into its usual ponytail.

Yesterday, at the beach, they sat side by side on the beach towel, their arms grazing each other’s. Everyone else was splashing around in the water. A few of the kids their age were passing around a beach ball. Mat carried Stephanie on his shoulders, and Steph screeched every time the ball landed near enough to splash her. Everyone laughed and thought it was cute.

Mariah would never have that.

But Nat had sat down next to Mariah on the beach. They didn’t say anything, didn’t want to acknowledge what might be happening between them. Mariah couldn’t look away from the other kids in the water, too aware of Nat sitting next to her, and of her breathing speeding up.

The worst part was that none of this meant anything. There was no guarantee that Nat felt the same way. Mariah couldn’t know how the other girl felt without bringing it up, but that would mean admitting it out loud.

There was a rustle, and Mariah’s head snapped towards the trees. She watched as someone emerged from one of the tents. Her tent.

“Oh. Hey.” It was Nat. She wore pink pajamas with little white clouds on them, and her hair was braided into two pigtails. “I… I noticed you weren’t in the tent.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Mariah sighed and looked back up at the stars. The tree branches were waving slowly in the wind, and she could hear crickets chirping behind the sound of water rushing in the nearby stream. Nat made her way to the circle of chairs around the bonfire, making sure not to trip over the roots snaking over the ground. She sat down next to Mariah, who made an effort not to look at her. Her breathing felt clipped. Out of the corner of her eye, Mariah watched Nat lean her head back to match Mariah’s position.

“It’s so pretty. The stars.” Nat’s words came out like sighs. “We never see them like this back home.”

Mariah nodded slowly. She cleared her throat. “It’s calming. Nature.” She paused, wondering if she should leave it at that, but couldn’t help adding, “It’s just, like, I can be thinking all these thoughts, and stressing myself out over all these things, and nature doesn’t care. Like, it just keeps existing. The universe.”

Now it was Nat’s turn to nod. “But the universe isn’t a separate entity from you. You’re part of it. We’re all the same.” There was a short silence, during which both girls looked up at the stars, and Mariah tried not to say what felt inevitable.

“So, um.” Nat broke the silence. She was still looking up as she asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m trying not to think, actually.”

Nat let out a little laugh which quickly faded back into silence.

“Maybe, maybe this doesn’t make sense, but do you think… do you think it’s the same thing I’m thinking about?”

Nat put her hand on the armrest of Mariah’s chair. Her hand was right there. Close enough to touch. Close enough that if Mariah breathed just a little stronger than usual, Nat would feel it on the back of her hand.

And it didn’t have to mean anything. Nat was just resting her hand. Nat was just...

Mariah moved her arm so that her pinky was just brushing against Nat’s. Nat moved her hand so it covered Mariah’s, and Mariah fit her fingers between Nat’s.

She’d never held anyone’s hand before.

They held hands while looking up at the stars, at the universe, which didn’t care about them, and which they were also a part of. Mariah didn’t look down at their hands, and neither did Nat. They just looked up at the stars, and it felt like the stars were watching them back.