The stars winked at Eva and me. The moon smiled down at the two of us, like songbirds perched in a tree. A breeze tickled our necks and arms, and I slipped an arm around Eva, pulling her closer. She smiled at me, and snuggled in. I breathed in, smelling her minty fragrance. Reaching up to smooth her hair, I think I felt like I was going to touch her beautiful, long locks because when my hand touched her bald scalp, I was surprised.
“Eva?” I asked her.
“Mmmmmhhh,” she said.
“Maybe we should get you home soon. You have an English exam tomorrow.”
“No, we can’t! Please, Alex? Just a little longer. The comet only comes once a year,” she said.
I started to open my mouth, to argue with her, when a blaze of light shot across the sky.
“Look!” she said.” “There it is!”
The comet was beautiful, unlike anything I’d ever seen before, besides Eva. It glittered, and sparks seemed to hang in the sky as it trailed away. The world lit up in awe. I could see Eva’s wide, star-struck eyes gazing up at the ball of fire. It lingered for a few seconds and then it was gone, just as soon as it came.
“Wow,” she breathed. “Alex?”
“Yes, Eva?”
“That was our comet, “she said.
I smiled and kissed her on the forehead. It was. The words felt good on my tongue. Our comet. Our very own comet.
“Yes, Eva. Our comet,” I said.
We stared into the night sky for another hour, replaying the phenomenon, wishing it would come back. But it didn’t. Hopefully, Eva and I planned to see it the next year.
“I can’t wait!” she said.
“Me neither.”
But inside, I felt grim and sick, wondering if she would be alive that long.
*****
Thunder cracked, and my windowpanes shuddered. Rain beat my window, and came down in sheets. It felt like God was having a meltdown. I groaned and rolled over. My sheets caught my arm, and pinned me in a very uncomfortable position. Pain shot up my arm.
“Owww!”
I untangled my arm from the bed spread and sat up. Yawning, I watched my goldfish swim circles in his bowl. I really needed to clean his aquarium. His flashing, fiery colors reminded me of the comet.
“Let’s see if anything is on about that comet, Buddy boy,” I said to my inattentive fishy friend.
He flipped a fin at me, and I grabbed the remote lying next to him. I turned the television on and watched the blue light flicker on the receptor. I flipped through channels until I found the news station. Savannah Guthrie was reporting on the tension between North Korea and South Korea. Well, this is boring, I thought to myself. I was about to flip channels when I heard her say: “And next up, Eva Russell, a friendly citizen here in Ember, dies unexpectedly overnight due to a tragic case of cancer.”
I froze, my heart stopped beating, sitting there on the bed. My legs went numb and my blood felt cold and icy slipping through my body. The clock ticked overhead. It sounded sinister, like she was running out of time. I don’t know how long I sat there, still, motionless, dead. Savannah’s voice brought my eyes back to the screen.
“Late last night, Eva Russell passed away peacefully in her sleep. She’d been battling leukemia for quite some time, and she just wasn’t lucky enough. Friends and family will mourn for her loss on Saturday, and if you wait a little longer, her story will be shown.”
I gulped, tried to speak. The only thing that came out of my mouth was air, and my ragged, gasping breath. It felt like I had been lounging on Cloud Nine last night, and now, someone had torn me down. They had left me hanging on to a thread, left in the depths of hell. My eyes blurred and my vision walked away. Colors burst like fireworks, and spun into deadly patterns. They danced and taunted me. I saw Eva, standing a few feet away from me, and I lunged toward her. My fingers slipped through her, and landed on my broken CD. The sharp edges bit into my skin, tearing and ripping the flesh. Blood gushed and I cradled my finger. Slipping to the floor of my room, I whimpered, pain shooting through my hand. My nerves screamed at me, threw stuff at me. White licks of fire spit at me as salty tears fell on my wound. I opened my mouth, and one word slipped out before I fell to the ground in disbelief.
“No.”
I woke up to my Mom waving smelling salts under my nose. She held my hand and I could see the bandages she’d wrapped around my finger. I tried to lift my head, but she held me closer, placing my head back in her lap.
“Mom?” I asked, my voice wavering.
“Yes?”
But I didn’t get to finish because tears started to run down my cheeks, and I hugged her closer, and sobbed. The whole world came crashing down and everything in the world seemed wrong. Eva was gone. All I could think about was Eva. Her laugh, the way she smiled, even her chipped nail polish. Memories flashed back, and tears came flooding down. My mom rocked me like when I was a baby, and held me close. I felt bad, because her shirt was soaked. But I didn’t care, I needed her. She cried with me, and told stories of Eva, and made me laugh even with tears and snot dripping out of my nose.
“Remember the time Eva came with us to SeaWorld, and that old lady told her what a cute little kitty she was. And Eva told her, ‘Why, thank you, Ma’am. You are a very attractive old cat yourself.’ And we laughed the entire day.”
I snorted, and caught a reflection of us in the mirror. How strange we looked.
“Momma, look at us. A nineteen year old boy crying with his Mother and laughing at his girlfriend, who’s not here. We’re awful. How can we be laughing when we’re upset?” I said.
*****
One year later, I sat down on the hill where Eva and I had watched the comet. Thinking about Eva, I watched with the same thrill as the comet came shooting across the sky. I thought I could see her face shining among the stars for a few seconds, and then she was gone.
“I name that comet Eva,” I said.
Our comet.