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As the train pulls into Squahamish with a high-pitched squeal, Ellie’s heart is beating as relentlessly as the sun streaming down through the window. The only thing that calms her down is the sight of her little glass kiosk beside the rails. She remembers how she’d watch the trains come in and out every day, thinking she’d never be lucky enough to leave. And now, she was confident enough in the control she had over her own fate to risk coming back. College had done that to her, opened her mind and allowed her to believe that she could amount to more.
College had also brought Ellie a host of other new experiences. She’d attended a few meetings of her school’s Gay-Straight Alliance and found an entire community of people who felt like her. They’d dragged her to a pride parade before she’d even defined her sexuality. She’d made out with girls and boys alike, trying to figure out where she stood on the spectrum.
But if she had to be honest, it wasn’t just her sexuality that was confusing her. It was the fact that every person she’d met was automatically compared to Aster in her mind, and judged lacking.
Which was crazy. Insane. All her and Aster had was a kiss. She didn’t even know if Aster was into girls at all. It wasn’t like they were waiting for each other.
And now, they would finally get to see each other for the first time since that kiss. A year later.
Why a whole year? Well, Aster hadn’t shown up for Thanksgiving. Or Winter Break. Or Spring Break. Ellie suspected that something had gone down between her and her dad, because he hadn’t exactly looked happy when Aster decided not to embark on a loveless marriage with Trig Carson and pop out two and a half kids.
On one hand, Ellie was happy for Aster. She’d gotten out, boldly stepped away. On the other hand…
Well, would it kill her to visit just once? Or even text?
This summer, though, could be different. It had to be. Ellie would be spending the entire summer in Squahamish with her dad because she couldn’t afford to travel the world or accept some unpaid internship at the New York Times like her classmates, no matter how much she wanted to. She needed to work, make some money for herself and her dad to keep the lights on.
Aster had to come back sometime. Right?
But even if she didn’t, Ellie wouldn’t be lonely. She’d accepted that fundamental truth as soon as she saw Paul, waiting for her at the train station with a wide grin on his face.
She rolls her eyes when he jumps up and down at the sight of her in the window, waving wildly. She sends him a self-conscious nod but that only seems to encourage him.
As soon as she steps out of the train, Paul pulls her into a bear hug that smelled like fresh grass and five spices. Ellie grumbles and pretends she doesn’t melt into the embrace.
“Did you get my text?! Why didn’t you respond?” Paul finally pulls back, keeping his big hands on her shoulder to hold her at arm’s length.
She wrinkles her nose. “I’m sorry but I haven’t learned what an appropriate response to a poop emoji and a gif of a woman doing the salsa is.”
He frowns. “You have much to learn.” He starts when he notices her carry on, the strap digging into her shoulder. His eyes widen and he grabs the bags out of her hands and from the ground around her, slinging them over his shoulder far too easily.
Ellie doesn’t protest, knowing it’s futile. Instead, she looks around curiously. “Is my dad here?”
“Edwin? He’s waiting in the car.” He leads her over to the parking lot.
Ellie gapes at Paul as she struggles to keep up with his long strides. “Rewind. Since when were you on a first-name basis with my dad?”
Paul chuckles at the look of horror on her face. “Me and Eddie, we go way back.”
Ellie’s about to pull a Romeo and Juliet and forbid their burgeoning relationship when she’s bowled over by ‘Eddie’ himself. He apparently couldn’t wait to see her because he’d rushed over. Immediately, he starts interrogating her about her eating habits. He’s convinced she’s grown thinner, despite her very generous meal plan and the large glass containers of braised pork on rice he’d sent over every week.
Her and her dad continue to catch up while Paul pops open the trunk, tossing in the bags. When all the bags are squeezed in, Paul wipes the sweat off his forehead, gazing around him as if in search of one last bag. When his eyes fix on her and his eyes glint mischievously, she immediately begins to protest.
“No way! Don’t you dare-”
Edwin chimes in behind her in much-improved English. “Looks like you missed bag.”
Her jaw drops at the betrayal and she continues protesting even as Paul laughs, even as her fate is sealed.
Paul sweeps her off her feet effortlessly, throwing her over his shoulder while her dad cackles with an evil delight. Ellie shrieks as Paul moves to toss her into the trunk along with the bags, slapping his back and pumping her legs furiously.
Suddenly, Paul tenses below her and lets her down on her feet gently. She plants her hands on her hips and appraises him, confused at the abrupt change in moods.
Despite her hair escaping its ponytail to resemble a bird’s nest and block out half her vision, she can still tell that Paul is looking over her shoulder. A sudden feeling of dread filling her stomach, she turns slowly.
Only to see Aster Flores herself standing there, watching with amusement.
Aster’s hair was cut to shoulder-length now, and she’d gotten highlights in to complement the change. She wore a plain grey t-shirt covered in colourful paint splatters, hoop earrings, and black nail polish.
She looked good .
Ellie’s throat dries up. “You’re… back.”
“I guess so.” Aster shrugs hesitantly, before glancing at her dad’s car with a gulp and adding, “Can’t say I’m glad.”
Ellie winces in sympathy. “If it means anything… I’m glad.”
Aster tucks a hair behind her ear. “Oh! Well, I’m glad… that you’re glad.”
They both smile shyly at each other until Aster’s dad honks, interrupting the moment. Aster coughs awkwardly, pointing at her car. “Got to go.”
“Um, yeah. See you.” Ellie attempts to lean against her car to wave coolly but misjudges the distance and stumbles backwards. She hears an unmistakable snort from her dad and she reconsiders giving him the Chinese groceries she’d brought with her from the store near Grinnell.
As soon as Aster’s out of sight, Paul lets out a relieved breath. Ellie eyes him suspiciously, grateful for the distraction from her now out-of-control thoughts. “What’s it with you?”
Paul rubs his cheek ruefully, remembering the pain from Aster’s slap. “She scares me.”
Ellie laughs, the tension diffused. “Damn right she does.”
The three of them get in the car, voices spilling over in untold stories excitedly all the way home.
~~~
Mrs. Geselschap looks up from the pile of papers she’s marking, her eyes brightening as soon as she sees Ellie. “Well, if it isn’t my least favourite student.”
Ellie jeers back, grabbing the top paper off the marking pile and pulling a face as soon as she sees the amount of red ink on the essay about
Madame Bovary
. “Oof. I don’t think
I’m
your least favourite student.”
Mrs. Geselschap sighs. “Oh no. They’re all like that.”
Ellie leans over to confirm her statement and raises an eyebrow when she sees a paper arguing that Emma Bovary was a great mother. “Welp.”
Her teacher nods. “Yup. Should have held you back a year so that you could make my workload a bit less insufferable.”
Ellie grins. “Well, I’m here now. What do you want me to do?”
Part of Ellie’s summer plans was to help Mrs. G mark papers, organize the class, and tutor English students. It was her way of keeping her resume up-to-par without having to leave the confines of Squahamish, while working part-time at Munsky’s to make some extra money helping Paul grill sausages. Oddly enough, Paul’s parents had taken a liking to Ellie after she’d built them a website and written slogans for them. If Paul ever told them she was the one who wrote the kind reviews and sent them around, she thinks they’d adopt her on the spot.
As Ellie tidied up the class on Mrs. G’s orders, her mind was a flurry of activity. She ran over her conversation with Aster a million times, interpreting it like she would a text of literature. She reads it over and over until it’s lost its meaning. Frustrated, she reaches for the radio on her teacher’s desk, hoping music would quiet her mind.
Mrs. G stops her hand. “Nuh-uh. If you want the silence filled, you’re going to have to talk.”
Ellie’s brows furrow. “Talk about what?”
Her teacher leans forward, perching her chin on her clasped hands.
“Talk to me about Aster Flores.”
She figured this conversation was long overdue, ever since Mrs. G had found her letter. With no way out, she growls. “Fine. But I don’t want commentary. ”
She raises her hands innocently. “I would never!’
Ellie levels an unimpressed look at her before beginning her story.
After she finished, Mrs. G’s eyes are sparkling with interest. “Would you look at that? Ellie Chu’s in love. I thought I’d never see the day.”
“Shut up, you old hag.”
Mrs. G laughs. “I may be old, but I’m also experienced.”
Ellie snaps, embarrassed. “What do you know about love?”
Mrs. G tilts her head, looking at the gold ring on her finger. “Well, I’ve been married.”
“And divorced.”
“Did I ever tell you why?”
“No. I just assumed he got sick of you.”
“ She.”
Ellie’s jaw drops. “Wait. You’re also-”
Mrs. G gives a bittersweet smile, shrugging. “Small town. Can’t exactly advertise my relationship. Or I could, but I chose not to. And that wasn’t enough for Adeline. She wanted to be able to hold my hand in public, kiss me under the light.”
Ellie’s still processing this. “Do you still love her?”
Mrs. G looks down at her ring with deep sadness in her eyes before looking up at her fiercely. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
Ellie’s flustered underneath that stare. “But, I don’t know-”
“Osho once said, ‘Courage is a love affair with the unknown’. Go be courageous, Ellie. ”
Ellie finally forces herself to meet her mentor’s gaze, sees the intense sincerity in those eyes. She finds herself promising, “I will.”
~~~
On the way home from school, as Ellie huffs and puffs as she struggles to cycle her bike up that uphill slope. She idly notices a sunflower graffitied into the concrete wall. Recognizing the art style, she immediately stops her bike, dropping it onto the ground. Her heart soars as she spots a blue graffiti can sitting on the pavement, with a post-it note attached. It reads:
“Make a stroke. (That’s not meant to sound dirty, I promise).”
Ellie laughs, picking up the spray paint can and giving it a little shake. She paints an abstract eye into the center of the flower, leaving a note off to the side in dramatic painted letters.
“Is this all they taught you in art school?”
The next day, on her way to school, she notices that the eye is now bleeding a trail of red that blends into the long stem of the flower to pool in an ocean of green and maroon stripes. Ellie has to admit that the blending of colours is immaculate, especially for the medium. She scoffs as she reads the note written below hers.
“They also taught me in art school how to deal with the critics - just be better.”
Ellie takes the challenge with a grin, biting her lip as she figures out her next move. She adds a sailboat into the ocean, sinking underneath its load of treasure. The gold doubloons take the form of fallen sunflower petals.
“Hope they don’t teach you to ignore the critics. I miss you :/”
She’s swamped with work at the Munsky’s that week, Paul and her taking orders from an entire party of football fans who’d stopped by to see the man who’d put Squahamish High on the scoreboard. They’d learned to work well together, Ellie teaching him how to work the cash register and serve customers with friendliness, while he chases off the not-so-friendly customers who have more to say about Ellie’s race than they do about the sausages.
It isn’t until two days later that she finally gets the opportunity to check out the wall again, and her heart sinks in disappointment as she sees no new additions to their mural. Her phone lights up in a notification and she looks down at it dejectedly before she reads the notification.
Diego Riviera: I could never ignore you.
Ellie looks down at her phone with a smile, typing out a response before she has time to second-guess herself.
CoronaSmith: I don't know... I'm feeling kind of neglected...
Diego Riviera: …
CoronaSmith: See? This is what I’m talking about! You don’t even reply to my texts anymore! You just send me these dots.
She laughs as she can physically feel Aster’s rolled eyes through the screen with the next text.
Diego Riviera: …
Ellie meets the dots, not backing down.
CoronaSmith: ………………
DiegoRiviera: Fineeeeeee. Meet me at the hot springs this Friday? I can pick you up.
Ellie pumps her fists in triumph, about to respond when another text comes in, marring her happiness.
DiegoRiviera: And bring a swimsuit this time. I don’t want to get a cold from walking with soaked clothes on again.
CoronaSmith: I did feel kind of guilty about the wet buttprint I left on your seat that night.
DiegoRiviera: Don't be. It was an attractive buttprint.
Ellie’s glad they’re texting so Aster can’t see the flush on her face as she reads the text, screenshotting it. Just because.
DiegoRiviera: God, that’s not something you hear every day, huh?
Ellie nods in agreement. Geez, this was flirtation. Real flirtation.
Oh man.
~~~
Listen, when you haven’t seen someone in over a year, the anticipation starts to build. You create this version of them in your head that may be completely different from reality. You imagine a hundred different scenarios, each in which you have the perfect one-liner prepared for every situation. Expectations soar, and Ellie worries that neither one of them would be able to meet the others’ raised bar.
What if Aster had met someone in art school, realized that they were just a small town fling? What if Ellie was just Aster’s good painting?
Nearly talking herself into cancelling the date, Ellie remembers Mrs. G’s words. Confronting these unknown questions was part of being courageous. She reaches for her guitar case to play some music to calm her mind, and the picture of her mother falls out, floating downward to land at her feet.
This was the time to be bold.
Tugging her hair back into a ponytail, she sends Paul an emoji of painted nails, a wine emoji, and an emoji of a bikini. He immediately responds with a wide-eyed shocked emoji and she smiles as her phone rings in a call soon after.
There was one person who was never unknown, whose actions were so predictable that they became a comfortable oasis she could always rely on.
And she would need to rely on him now.
~~~
Ellie almost has a panic attack as she looks into Goodwill’s swimsuit bin only to see revealing, hot pink bikinis. Paul turns up with a Yakult and a reassuring squeeze, quickly sitting her down in the nearest chair and reminding her to regulate her breathing. He begins his search with determination until his eyes light up at the sight of a ribbed maroon one-piece. He turns to her and nods.
Despite Paul’s enthusiastic hyping and insistence on roping in several old women to offer their own compliments, it wasn’t some magical movie transformation. When she looked in the mirror, all she saw was Ellie Chu looking back at her.
That didn’t happen often. Not when she’d resigned herself to a life of avoiding her own reflection so that she wouldn’t have to acknowledge the baggy clothes her financial situation forced her into. Most thrift stores weren’t fun destinations for rich girls to find vintage clothing that they could crop and turn into Instagram photos with captions that raved about their resourcefulness. For many, they were symbols of poverty, and Ellie was one of them.
So when she saw herself represented in the mirror for the first time since the talent show, the last time Paul had helped her shop for clothes, she knew she had to have this swimsuit.
She must have tried it on twenty plus times in the next few days. One thought rose above all others in her head.
What would Aster think when she saw her?
~~~
Ellie glances at the clock for the hundredth time that night, glad her dad was asleep in his armchair so that he couldn’t tease her for her disgusting show of lovesickness. She was like Gatsby fawning over Daisy, Dido pining over Aeneas, Anna obsessed with Count Vronsky.
Shit. All the examples she’d cited died because of their love.
She was screwed.
She hears a car pull up the driveway and she forces herself not to run to the door. She counts to three (the Mississipi way, representing great self-control) before shoving herself out of the chair, tossing a quilt and a kiss on the forehead her dad’s way, and speed-walking to the door.
Ellie pulls open the door just as Aster is about to knock, and Aster stumbles forward at the sudden loss. Ellie reaches out to steady her, her hands landing on the softness of those upper arms. She tries not to be obvious about it, but she inhales to see if Aster still smelled like fresh flour.
At least that hadn’t changed.
Aster looks up into Ellie’s eyes after she regains her balance, smiling with a hint of nervousness marring the effort. Which sucked, because Ellie couldn’t see Aster’s dimples, and that was a travesty.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Ellie breathes back.
Aster’s brow wrinkles, and she looks down. “Sorry, I should have texted I was going to be early but I do this idiotic thing where I-”
Ellie could never let Aster put herself down. She grabs her face frantically between her hands, squishing the cheeks a little in between to smush her face forward adorably and to drive the point home. “You are not an idiot.”
Aster’s eyes widen. “Oh! Okay, um. Thanks, I just meant that I overthink when I should arrive.”
Of course she did. Which means Ellie is the only idiot there, holding this girl’s face like a dumpling in between her hands.
She pulls back, embarrassed. “Ah. That’s okay. You can do that. Not that I’m trying to give you permission or anything, just-”
Aster smiles with the dimples this time, trying to reassure her. “Don’t worry, I have a strict dad. At least this is the good kind of controlling.”
Mollified for now, Ellie closes the door quietly behind her. She grimaces as she walks up her front path when she remembers the subject they’d hit on. “How are things going with your dad, by the way? I saw him being all buddy-buddy with Trig last week. Does he still harbour hopes you’ll marry rich, by Squahamish standards at least?”
Aster is silent beside her as she hides behind her hair. “Something like that. I’d rather not talk about my dad, if that’s okay.”
Great. Look what you’ve done with your weird show back there, Ellie. Now the girl’s asking you if it’s okay not divulge her entire life’s story on a first date. She chokes out a quick, “Don’t worry about it” before they make it to Aster’s car.
Ellie works her way around to the passenger side, popping open the door and maneuvering her butt through the door. She stops when she feels her ass hit something warm, hearing a paper bag crinkle beneath her.
“Ummm….”
Aster yelps in panic. “Oh no, no, no!”
Ellie blinks slowly, afraid to move her butt from its spot hovering above the seat. “What did I just sit on?”
Aster groans, slamming her head against the steering wheel. “I- I got us burgers and fries to eat. Like a picnic.”
“Ah.” Ellie says neutrally. “That explains the warmth.”
“I’m so, so, so sorry.”
Ellie twists herself to pluck the brown bag out from underneath her. Finally sitting fully, she peers into the bag at its now-dubious contents. “They look… edible, still,” she says, unconvincingly.
Aster’s still apologizing as she grabs the bag from her and tosses it unceremoniously into the back seat. “Forget those. At least the milkshakes are still intact.”
Ellie gasps happily as she takes in the sight of the cup-holder. “Vanilla-chocolate swirl? You know me so well.” Aster smiles weakly back.
An awkward silence stretches out between them as they both sip on their respective milkshakes and ponder that statement. Did they really know each other? After all this time?
Aster clears her throat to break the silence and asks, “So… how’s your dad?”
Ellie relaxes at the question, settling back into her seat. Her lips quirk at the side as her eyes glaze over in fond remembrance. “He’s doing great actually. I think me leaving really woke him up. He’s updated his resume, started looking into engineering firms… he even asked Paul to teach him English.”
Aster snorts, without any malice. “Paul, really?”
Ellie nods. “That’s what he said! He said if anyone needs English lessons, it’s him, so… they did. The two of them have been going to the community centre every Saturday.”
Aster tilts her head. “That’s an unlikely friendship.”
“Tell me about it.”
Aster exhales and says, "'We are all the same and we are all different. What great friends we will be."'
Ellie’s shocked out of her nostalgic reverie. “Did you just quote a picture book to me?”
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
She shakes her head in faux disapproval. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
Aster bursts into that unashamed laughter that Ellie loves so much, leaving her beautifully vulnerable. Ellie was bowled over by that laugh, the recognition that she was royally screwed washing over her.
No matter how much she’d been denying it, she had been waiting for this all throughout first-year. It wasn’t the anonymous girls she’d hooked up with that served as the light at the end of the tunnel for every overnight study session, every four-hour final, every nerve-wracking presentation.
Just when their eyes meet as the laughter fades and they seem on the brink of something more, Ellie’s phone vibrates in her pocket. They both start at the sound and Ellie curses herself internally for not turning her ringer off when she sees Aster school her vulnerable expression back into normalcy.
“Sorry, I have to get this. It’s Paul.” She sends her most remorseful expression Aster’s way and Aster shrugs.
She picks up the phone, trying not to sound too bitter when she answers and failing miserably. “What.”
She hears a pitiful sob on the other end of the line and her breath immediately seizes. Her heart in her throat, she asks what’s wrong and Aster’s eyes widen beside her.
Paul whimpers. “My mom confronted me about my taco sausages. She’s really mad.”
Ellie sighs. “I’m on my way.”
She hangs up and turns her body towards Aster, who seems to get where this is going. Aster stops her before she can speak. “I know what you’re going to say, but this date doesn’t have to end here. Let me drive you there, see if I can help.”
“A goddess. You are an absolute goddess.” Ellie exhales gratefully. “Thank you.”
On the way, Ellie fills Aster in on the taco sausage debacle. Aster doesn’t laugh, or belittle Paul’s problem. Ellie asks why and she just frowns.
“I know what it’s like to have a parent who doesn’t support your dreams. It doesn’t matter what that dream is.”
Ellie gulps, thinking it wasn’t possible to fall even more in love with this girl and being proven wrong time and time again.
When they arrive at Paul’s place, Paul is huddled on the porch stairs. She can hear the huge, heaving sobs that rack his entire body and her heart almost breaks. Ellie rushes out to meet him, and he looks up, damp eyes meeting hers. He tries to speak, but his words get stuck in hiccuping gasps.
“Shhh. Don’t say anything.” Ellie sits down next to him, pulling his head into her shoulder. It was a good thing she was wearing a swimsuit because it was really being tested under the water today. She rubs her hand up and down his arm, whispering reassurance, until he lets out one last, shuddery exhale and his body relaxes into her side.
Strangely calm, he lolls his head against her shoulder and looks up at her petulantly. “I need to be bold, huh?”
She gives his hipbone a pat. “That’s all there is to it.”
He sits up, exhausted by his tears and practically pouts when he hears his mother’s and siblings’ muffled yells coming from the house behind her. “I don’t think I can be bold today, Ellie.”
She nods in agreement. “That’s okay. There’s always tomorrow. For now, let’s go back to my place. Aster has fries.”
Ellie gets up, tugging him gently upwards. “Come on, you big lug. Work with me.” He laughs and joins her in standing, nodding at Aster. The three of them make their way home.
~~~
A foreign movie blares on the TV. Ellie’s dad is still asleep, and he’s been joined by Aster and Paul in dreamland. Aster’s head rests on Ellie’s shoulder as she sighs lightly in her sleep, nuzzling her head further into its pillow and releasing more of that coconut shampoo smell. Meanwhile, Paul has conked out on her lap, the oversized head leaving her legs numb.
She didn’t mind. At all. In fact, she wouldn’t change this position for the world, if it wasn’t for a glance at the clock.
“Shit.”
She had totally forgotten about Aster’s curfew. Something told her that being a college student wouldn’t exactly reverse her dad’s opinion on the matter.
She runs her hand gently through Aster’s hair, relishing the softness, until the brunette wakes up with a cute, confused tilt of her head. “You have to get back.” Ellie whispers in the darkness, over the sounds of a Belgian princess singing on screen.
Aster sits up rapidly, looking at her watch and groaning. “He’s going to kill me.”
Ellie nods solemnly. “That’s looking increasingly likely.”
Aster gets up reluctantly from her spot, gathering her things and throwing away her ice cream wrappers in a flurry of movement. She hesitates, heading back to Ellie to kneel next to her on the floor.
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
They both linger, unsure of what to do, when they hear the noise of a truck backfiring, shocking them out of their moment.
Aster gulps. “I’m going to go.” She heads out with an awkward wave, and Ellie calls out another pathetic “bye” behind her.
Looking off into the distance and reflecting on the disaster that was her first date, she hears Paul groan beneath her. She looks down in confusion.
“Come on. You’re supposed to be the smart one,” he says, from her lap.
“You were awake? The entire time?”
“That’s not the point. The point is that you once asked me how I knew when a girl wanted you to kiss her. I said she’d give you a look. That was the look.”
The realization hits her and she groans. “You think I should have-?”
“Yes!” her dad yells from his spot on the couch, apparently also awake.
She remembers Mrs. G’s words, her mom’s example, the idea of bold strokes. She gently eases Paul off of her lap, determination shining in her eyes. “I’m going to go-”
Paul and her dad both yell in unison. “GO!”
She gets up, running through her house and out the door. Aster’s car is just pulling out and Ellie gets on her bicycle, chasing it down. They must have gone on like that for five minutes until Aster notices. She pulls over, giving Ellie a chance to stop and catch her breath as Aster parks and gets out of the car.
Standing face-to-face in the darkness of a country road, owls and coyotes hooting and howling their presence, Ellie Chu rushes forwards and kisses Aster Flores.
She once said that “Gravity is matter’s response to loneliness.” Ellie could confirm that statement now, for there was a gravitational pull between them, every limb aching for contact.
When their lips meet, it’s a revelation. It’s worth every worry, every awkward moment, every ounce of nerves. It’s mouths crashing together in a messy swirl of emotions that manifests into friction, pressure, possession.
“Gravity's Great”
-Ellie Chu