All the Little Lights

by Jamie McGuire

Catherine didn’t talk about her feelings very often, and any crumb she dropped for me felt like a huge gesture.

“But you’ve gotta learn to drive first. It’s not safe for you to go if you can’t take over if you need to.” “Why would I need to?” she asked, turning to face me. “In case something happens to me.”

“Catherine, every time I’m close to you, I’m aware of every breath you take. When we’re not, everything reminds me of you. I know because nothing else matters.”

The last time I ventured into the basement, someone locked me inside for three hours, and it gave me waking nightmares for a month.

just past a row of thirty or so suitcases of various shapes and sizes that were parked along the adjacent wall.

He’d been asked to several parties and turned them down because he refused to go without me. It was a sweet gesture, but I couldn’t help but feel he was missing out.

whatever catches my eye.” “Good to know I’m not the only one you stalk.” “You’re still my favorite subject.”

“You’re a Scorpio. I’m an Aquarius. It means we’re terrible for each other. I’m sure I memorized that entire summer, but especially that.”

She had to love me. She had to.

love you, Catherine.” Her eyes sparkled. “I love you, too.”

The days were shorter, and dark things happened at the Juniper at night.

I watched Elliott wave back at me, waiting until I was safely inside, because he didn’t know my frightening reality.

Last time, it was his mom’s fault; this time it would be mine.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d tried to discipline me for Mama.

A four-wheeled carry-on was standing with the handle fully extended next to the stairway that led to Mama’s room. I checked the luggage tag, praying I wasn’t right.

There were two rows of suitcases in the basement, all with different names. Mr. Heitmeyer’s would be added to the pile of things left behind—that’s what Mama called them.

People didn’t just leave things behind. I didn’t believe that anymore. Not since Elliott came back.

With all of them so invested in preventing my departure, I had to wonder what they had planned for me.

Maybe for the first time, I realized what I meant to him and what he meant to me. The warmth spread to my chest and then the rest of me. I wasn’t alone anymore.

“We’ll stick together,” Madison said, hooking her arm in mine. “They won’t touch her.”

“Catherine isn’t a name for a princess. Sounds like a warrior to me.”

Elliott’s version fit me better.

. if you can’t get the clearance and you decide to leave them here, I’m staying.”

“Me too,” another player said from the back. Soon every player on the bus was standing.

The hum of the engine and road noise made my eyelids feel heavy, and I drifted off, knowing I was surrounded by a team of boys who would do anything for Elliott, and Elliott would do anything for me.

You don’t know how hard it was for me to win her trust back. I came here with no idea if she’d forgive me or not. I spent two years away from her, and I felt like I was going to suffocate right up until she spoke to me for the first time. We’re just getting back to where we were before I left. Maybe even better. I’m not ruining everything I’ve worked for over a party. It’s not more important to me than Catherine.”

“Is there anything that is? Football?” “No.” “Your camera?” “Nope.” “What about food?” I chuckled. “If I had to choose, I’d starve.”

Catherine was my everything. If something happened to her while I was at a stupid party, if she came to my house and I wasn’t there, if she was hurt even for a second by some rumor, I’d never forgive myself.

“Remember when I wanted to show you the most beautiful thing I’d ever photographed?” I nodded. He picked up the box and carried it to his bed. He lifted the lid, struggling to gather whatever was inside, and then placed a stack of photos, all black and whites and various sizes, on his quilt. He spread them out. Every single one was of me—this year, my freshman year, and very few of them were taken when I was looking at the camera. Then I noticed some photos of me when I was in middle school, and one where I was wearing a dress I hadn’t been able to fit into since the sixth grade.

“Where did you get these?” I asked, pointing at the photos of me from years before. “I took them.”

“You were watching us? You were in the tree?” “I didn’t mean to, Catherine, I swear.” “But . . . I sat out there until well after dark. I didn’t see you.” Elliott cringed. “I waited. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I don’t know. Now I have photos of me and my dad I didn’t know existed. What about here?” I asked.

“I miss the lights on the street. Seems like more go out every year,” Elliott said. “Me too. But it makes the stars easier to see.” He smiled. “Always looking on the bright side.”

There were so many different expressions in the photos—all mine. Angry, bored, sad, lost in thought—so many captured moments of my life.

“Trust me, I see at eighteen that it wasn’t okay for me to take pictures of someone without her consent. I’m happy to give them to you. I’ve never shown them to anyone else. I just . . . at ten, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I believe that still. That’s why I told Madison I came back.” “Because you think I’m beautiful?” “Because I’ve loved you for almost half my life.”

“It took me six summers to get up the nerve to talk to you. Two more summers to get back to you. No more, okay? I’m done missing summers with you.”

We walked together to the Juniper, counting which of the streetlamps were out and which were still burning. Elliott looked up, agreeing that it was easier to see the stars when it was darker.

It was in that moment that I thought seriously about packing up to be with him, leaving everything frightening and draining behind.

“Come with me. I can keep you safe.” A tear spilled down my cheek. “You have to leave, Elliott, or I can’t see you anymore.”

“Keep him away from here, Catherine, or I’ll make him disappear.”

“You won’t go near Elliott, do you hear me? I’ll leave. I’ll leave and never come back if you lay a finger on him!”

then pushed my bed against the door and sat on the mattress for extra weight.

He was the most intimidating of the guests, and his failure to frighten me into submission meant uncertainty. I worried someone new and more frightening would come to keep me in line.

I felt the tears come again. Life at the Juniper was getting worse. Something dark was building inside, and I didn’t want Elliott to get caught in it. Him being unable to leave me was going to get him hurt—or worse.

It was the first time someone other than a guest, Tess, or Mama had been inside since Dad was taken away in the ambulance.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered. “But I am, and unless you kick me out, I’m staying.”

“I’m eighteen.” He looked past me and frowned. “Why is your dresser against your door?”

Before long, I was drifting off, but it wasn’t Dad I felt was keeping me safe in that space between awake and asleep. It was Elliott.

The gray piece of fabric fell off the bed, landing quietly on the floor, but Catherine didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m not dumping him . . . and not likely.” “You don’t think they’ll leave you alone?” Tess asked.