Rewrite the Stars by Christina Consolino (books for 8th graders .txt) 📕

me, a second, bolder attempt to lure him inside, perhaps? What in the hell was I doing? Having Andrew and Theo in the house might not be the best idea I had ever come up with. So far, Andrew had only seen the kids. What would Theo think, and why didn’t Andrew say no and go away? Spider, fly. It was impossible to tell which roles we both played.

Andrew set the grocery bag on the granite counter and reached in, pulling out a carafe of orange juice, a sack of clementines, a bag each of flour and sugar, a pound of coffee, and a bottle of Tylenol, as well as an odd assortment of hard candies and my favorite chocolates. His purchases told the story of what he knew about me. My chest warmed.

A glance toward the living room window revealed everyone was still talking and laughing. “You can join them, I suppose. I’ll be heading out that way, eventually.” I waved my hand in the direction of Theo, Lena, and the kids and then snatched the paper grocery bag and folded it up before settling it between the wall and the refrigerator.

“Shouldn’t we address what almost just happened?” Andrew asked.

“We should.”

“You don’t sound convinced.” He lowered his voice and tipped his head. “You have no idea. No idea how much...I want...I’m tormented. When I first met you, there was something. I wasn’t sure what. And then, we kept meeting. And even though I knew you weren’t completely available...I don’t...oh fuck!” He punched his fist on the counter, let out a hiss from his lips, and flicked a quick look away from the kitchen. “I’m not getting this out properly, but you know what I’m trying to say.” Andrew closed his eyes and drew a deep breath in through his mouth.

“No. Yes. No. I mean, I know what almost happened back there at the door and why and what you’re trying to say. We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” The smirk on my face as reflected in the small mirror above the stove revealed my error. “Wrong choice of words there, eh?” I laughed and went on. “Well, I won’t let it happen again, and I won’t let that almost-kiss happen again, either. I was wrong.”

I rubbed the back of my head, the part that had contacted the cabinet at the library. The bruised skin hurt when touched, but the pain grounded me and kept me moving forward in my quest to rid myself of this man. “But I’m going to be honest again here and tell you what needs to be done, which is this...” I looked him over from head to toe as I appreciated his whole being. His face, his arms, the way his eyes seemed to dance in the light of the day, the small dimple on his right cheek. Like a caffeine addict, I gulped one last, long sip of him and then continued. “I need to try and stay away from you.”

Andrew fell back against the counter as if my words electrocuted him and threw his hand over his heart. “Ouch, Sadie. Ouch.” Despite his words, the curve of his lips told me his ego hadn’t been harmed.

“Yeah. But that’s the truth. You and I both know it and based on that last action of mine there on the back porch, I can’t be trusted.” Here I was, falling into the same pattern of teasing and flirtation with Andrew, and it scared me. The slope was too slippery: either he had to go, or I did.

“I said it once already. We could be right, but I guess not right now, and I can see you’re serious, so I’ll go.” He pushed his body away from the counter but was careful to maintain adequate space between us. “I just wanted to check on you. Mom said you took quite the fall.”

“I did, but I’m okay.” The throbbing at the back of my head wrestled with the pain inside my heart, and I rubbed again at the injury to try and gain focus and relief. “By the way, how long will you be up here?” Extending the conversation with small talk was stupid; my fascination with Andrew bordered on obscene. Go home, Andrew, I thought. Make this job easier on me, please.

“I’m just here for a day or two. I have business over in East Jordan, so I thought I’d swing by and see Mom. I come up this way a few times throughout the year. This is a tough place to stay away from.” Andrew moved a few more paces toward the door. “And Mom hasn’t been the same since Henry died. I swear she talks to him still, as if he were right there with her.”

“Is that who she speaks to? I thought it was the dog, but the library doesn’t allow dogs, and she was speaking to someone as she headed to the break room.”

“Yeah, she says Henry’s with her much of the day. She loved my dad, but she and Henry had something special, magical almost.”

I imagined myself as old as Pickles, shuffling to and from work each day, chatting with my long-gone love. Theo? Or Andrew? Dampness settled in my eyes, again. I rubbed away the tears, not embarrassed but angry with my vulnerability. “Wow. What a love they must have had.”

“Sure did.” Andrew handed me a tissue from the box on the counter and then moved all the way to the door before looking back. “We’d all be so lucky to find a love like that.”

Andrew’s words—completely matter of fact—were in stark contrast to the look he gave me. The man needed to leave the cottage before my defenses crumbled, so I pulled open the door, a silent plea for him to exit. “Listen, I need to check on the kids. I’ll see you later, okay? I mean, I won’t see you later.”

Andrew flashed me a grin so bright and broad, it reached all the way to his eyes, across