“No,” I said. “Not at all. I think it’s a beautiful dream.”
“Yeah, well, it might never be more than that. A dream.”
“Stop being so critical. At least you know what you want to do. At least you have a passion.”
Ysrael turned to me. “And you don’t?”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. I studied my hands. “I’ve been on a track for so long, I don’t know what’s beyond it.”
“Where is that track supposed to take you?” he asked.
“Harvard.”
Ysrael whistled. “You’re like one of those Asian geniuses or something.”
I grimaced and shook my head. “No. Far from it. It’s just what my mom expects, but . . .” I paused, wondering how much I should reveal. Ysrael stayed silent, his dark eyes reflecting the stars.
I whispered, “What if I don’t get in? What do I do then?”
“You know, Mina, there are other schools besides Harvard. What’s wrong with Berkeley or UCLA?”
“You don’t understand,” I said. “Those schools aren’t the best.”
Ysrael shrugged. “Last time I checked, those schools were still pumping out some pretty smart folks.”
“Whatever,” I said and looked away. “Explain that to my mom.”
Ysrael didn’t respond. I glanced back at him. He was studying me.
“Maybe you should start by explaining it to yourself first,” Ysrael said.
I rolled my eyes, but something about what he said stuck. I could feel it lodged there at the edge of my thoughts.
“You can still change things, Mina,” Ysrael said softly. “You can still choose how you’re going to live this life.”
“Sometimes it’s not about choosing. It’s about living up to a dream. It’s about trying to please the people you love. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I mean, my mom can be a pain, but she just wants the best for me.”
“But what do you want?” Ysrael asked.
I stared at him.
“What do you do that is just for you?” Ysrael asked.
No one had ever asked me that before. I stared up at the sky, afraid to tell him the truth. Compared to how serious Ysrael took his music, what I felt singing at home or in the chorus didn’t seem like much. I smiled at Ysrael and shrugged my shoulders.
We were silent as we watched the deep blue of the night bleed into the sun-soaked sky, leaving behind a trail of stars.
“This is my favorite time of day,” Ysrael said. “It’s called the gloaming.”
I turned the new word over in my mouth. Something fit. “I like it,” I said.
Ysrael met my eyes and did not look away. He took a deep breath and kept his eyes on me. We stayed that way. For a second. A minute. A lifetime. Ysrael finally turned back to the sky. He stretched a hand out to the stars, his fingertips reaching for the light.
“Look at those stars. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this bright. Look,” he whispered. “Look at how they shine for you.”
I gazed out past his hand. Past the city. Past the blue-black night sky and set my sights on a star.
suna
IMAGINE. TWO FORMS. Two separate profiles outlined by the twilight sky and the sparkling lights of a city that lay at their feet. And the stars. The stars. Look how they shine. For them. As though this night, this moment lives suspended in a snow globe filled with glitter.
Suna leans forward between the two front seats and studies these two forms as though they are strangers. He touches her cheek and she leans into his palm, into the hand that cups her face. And he brings that face to his, their foreheads touching, their lips whispering. He strokes her face with the back of his hand, his knuckles tracing the gentle slope of her jaw, her neck. She bows her head, her long hair falling forward. He kisses her forehead, her brow, her temple. She slowly raises her face to his and their lips meet. Gentle as petals falling to the floor.
And so it is. The two forms, the two strangers, in finding each other, in their union, become recognizable. Mina and Ysrael. Ysrael and Mina.
Suna looks away. She turns her back to them and stares out the rear window, at the craggy, desolate lines of the mountain. Low desert shrubs dot the landscape. She gazes up at the stars, at the deep blue canvas of the night sky, and she feels that emptiness rushing into her body, spreading through her limbs. For stars can only shine against darkness.
mina
I SHOOK THE LONG receipt and tried to concentrate on the numbers again. I had been staring at the same slip of paper for most of the afternoon. It was simple. Refund the amount. Punch in the receipt again, minus a few items, collect the cash that had been “overpaid” and discard the original receipt. Simple. But for some reason, my head kept wandering. Kept listening for Ysrael in the back of the store. I knew I also had to go over yesterday’s end of the day totals so that the number of items collected matched the number of items charged so that my refunds weren’t so noticeable. Pull it together, I said to myself. I shook my head and pulled the manila envelope out from under the cash register. Uhmma was due back any time now.
I was just redoing some calculations when Ysrael surprised me from behind. He grabbed my hips.
“Ahhh,” I yelled and whipped around. “What are you doing?”
Ysrael grinned. “Got you.” He kept his hands on my hips, his body close to mine.
I gave him a quick hug and then stepped back, gently peeling back his hands. I glanced out the store window to make sure no one had seen us.
“Hey,” I said, suddenly feeling shy.
“Hey, yourself,” he said and leaned his back against the counter. “Can I see you tonight?”
I shifted my
