Chapter 8: Paper Stars and Thunderstorms

Michael left. For the first time, I left him speechless. Before he left, he flew into a rage and overturned the package of Jason’s belongings on the table.

The crash of glass echoed through the kitchen, sharp as thunder. I flinched, heart hammering like I’d been caught in a thunderstorm. Jason exploded instantly.

"See? He’s already smashing things and nothing’s even happened yet. What about in the future? Rachel, he’s got a temper. You absolutely can’t marry him."

He nagged, clearly trying to change the subject.

There wasn’t much in the package. A few photos, a glass jar filled with folded paper stars. Nothing of much value. But seeing the glass jar shattered and the red stars rolling everywhere—Jason looked heartbroken.

I knew these stars. In freshman year of high school, he begged me to teach him how to fold them. He said he wanted to fold 520 stars and give them to the girl he liked before graduation—as a confession.

I refused. Mocked him for being cheesy, laughed at him for being like a linebacker with a glue gun.

"Who’d want that kind of confession these days?"

He blushed and told me to mind my own business, saying he was into old-fashioned, pure love.

So many years passed. I never knew who he gave that jar of stars to. Nor did I know who anonymously sent me these things. Though, for a moment in the bathroom just now, I’d wanted to ask—

But seeing Jason picking up the stars one by one, as if he wished he could come back to life—my curiosity vanished instantly.

His fingers passed through the paper, scattering the stars like a breeze only I could feel. The way he tried to scoop the paper with his hands, and they slipped right through—he looked like he might shatter, too.

"I’ll do it."

I found a box, swept the stars into it, and ignored his nagging like an old nanny. I turned and went back to my room. But when I closed the door, I saw him walk through the wall after me.

"Why’d you come in?"

He paused, his tone natural. "It’s pouring outside. I remember you’re afraid of thunder."

My heartbeat stuttered. I stared at his face. Until he scratched his head awkwardly and looked away.

But it was winter in Ohio now. There was no thunder.

"And you’re a ghost. I’m more afraid of you than thunder."

Jason… He tried to look offended, but the old spark in his eyes made me smile in spite of myself.