Chapter Twenty-Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Starlet

“You are never here before me. I guess you need to miss out on school more often than not to have you show up on time, huh?” I joked as I walked into the study room to find Milo sitting there. He smiled up at me, but it felt off. The smile didn’t eliminate the bleakness in his eyes. Something was troubling him.

That was the thing about falling for a person—you noticed every tiny detail about them. Which meant you could tell when something was off.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, setting my bag down.

“Nothing. Just tired, that’s all.”

“How did the eye appointment go?”

“It was fine,” he said with a tiny smile. “How are you?”

I narrowed my eyes. “How are you?”

He laughed, but it wasn’t his normal laughter. The sound made me uneasy. “You can’t answer a question with a question.”

“Sure I can.” I took a seat. “Are you happy today?”

His words told me yes, but his smile told me no. Yet, if I’d learned anything about Milo, it was not to push him when he wasn’t ready to open up.

“I already finished all my homework for the week,” he told me. “I could’ve told you that via text, but I just kind of wanted to see you.”

Butterflies.

A flurry of freaking butterflies.

“Oh. Okay. Well, what are we going to do for the next hour or so?”

“This is going to sound stupid, but…” He leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “Can we just stare at one another for a little while?”

“Milo. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m lying.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. His eyes grew glassy and became packed with emotions. “Star,” he whispered.

“Yes?”

His lips parted, but he hesitated. His brows lowered, and I swore a flash of sadness crossed his stare, but it disappeared so quickly that I wasn’t even sure it really occurred.

“What is it?” I questioned.

“I think I’m going blind.”

I froze in place for a few moments before speaking. “What did you just say?”

“I think I’m going blind.”

He said the same words again, and still, they didn’t register.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked once more.

“I’m going—”

“No, you’re not.” I cut in.

My voice cracked.

My heart did, too.

Milo grimaced and studied his fidgeting fingers before looking back up at me. “It’s called retinitis pigmentosa. I learned about it at the eye appointment. I have to go to a specialist to get it officially diagnosed, but I’m certain that’s what it is. And over time, my vision will only get worse.”

“So it’s not for certain? It’s not a guaranteed thing?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t a happy grin. It was the saddest smile I’d ever seen. “It’s okay, Star.”

“No, it’s not,” I sternly stated.

“Yes, it is,” he calmly replied.

I choked out laughter that was soaked in pain. “Shut up, Milo.”

“Star—”

“No!” I cried out. “You’re fine. You said the eye appointment was fine when you showed up today. You said that! That’s what you said.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Oh.

How was I not supposed to cry, though? How was I supposed to stay strong when he was telling me the most heartbreaking news I’d ever heard? How was I supposed to be okay?

“Secret friend, new rule,” he requested. “No crying when you learn Milo is going blind.”

“You can’t play the secret friend card on me.”

“Yes, I can because I can’t handle seeing you cry without me wanting to fall apart, and I can’t fall apart. Not today, at least. Please.”

I wiped my eyes and worked the best I could to pull myself together. Because once a secret friend rule was created, one was forced to do what was requested of them—even when it was hard.

I sighed. “How many doctors do you have to see about it?”

“Only one more.”

“You should see more. You should get multiple opinions.”

His smile? Still broken. “One will be enough,” he swore.

“But—”

“It will be enough, Star.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “What did your dad say?”

“He doesn’t know. No one does. Only you.”

“Milo…you have to tell him. You can’t go through this alone.”

“I’m not going through it alone anymore. I told you.”

I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to tell him how selfish it was to keep this to himself, to keep it between the two of us. But I couldn’t fight him because all I wanted to do was be there for him.

I sniffled. “How can I help?”

His eyes flashed with emotions, and he cleared his throat a few times before blinking his eyes repeatedly. When his stare met mine, the smile on his face didn’t seem so broken anymore. It seemed gentle and safe.

“Can you sit for another minute and let me stare at you?” he asked. “I want to stare at the most important things in my life a little more often lately. Just for ten minutes or so.”

My Milo…my favorite secret friend.

I pulled my chair to his side of the table, placing it directly in front of him, and took a seat. With shaky hands, I smoothed out my outfit, cleared my throat, and then locked my eyes with his. His beautiful deep brownish-green eyes.

We didn’t say anything as we locked eyes with one another.

Words weren’t needed because all he requested was to see me for ten minutes.

Ten minutes later, we sat still.

I wanted to cry.

I didn’t cry.

I wanted to scream.

I didn’t even whisper.

My hand reached out toward him, and he took it. We held hands for another ten or so minutes. I saw a slight tremble in the corner of his mouth, but he cleared his throat and pushed away his nerves. I wished I could crawl into his head and read his lonely thoughts. I wished I could lose my sight instead of him losing his.

It didn’t seem fair. It didn’t seem right.

He was getting better.

He was learning how to breathe again.

How dare the world try to make him drown once more?

After we finished our time in the library, I offered him a ride home, seeing how he couldn’t drive at night. He turned down the offer and said he could use the fresh air.

“Plus, how would that look, Teach?” he whispered, sliding his hands into his pockets. “What if someone saw us driving together?”

He was right.

I hated that he was right.

His lips turned into a tiny smile. “Don’t be sad, Star.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I stood in front of my car. “Don’t comfort me when I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

“You are comforting me.”

“How?”

“Just by existing.”

He took one step toward me. Probably too close, yet I didn’t step away. The feelings I had for that man only intensified as he grew closer, and I wanted to feel it all. He was like a crashing wave in the middle of a desert. Refreshing and forbidden.

His mouth parted as his hand slightly brushed against mine. His voice dropped an octave as he said, “One day, I’m going to love you out loud, and it will be the best day of my life.”

“Milo…”

“I promise, Starlet. I promise.”

And that was exactly when my love for Milo Corti began.

After he left, I climbed into my car and sat there for a while, not turning it on. I fell apart for him, crying into the palms of my hands, not understanding why life had to be this way.

I drove home and researched retinitis pigmentosa for the remainder of the night.

I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts ran a million miles an hour. I couldn’t even imagine what Milo’s thoughts were doing to him.

Around two in the morning, I sent him a text.

Starlet: Okay?

I hoped he was sleeping, but within seconds, I received a message back.

Milo: Okay.

Milo: Go to bed, Teach.

I sighed.

Okay.