Astrodynamics By Pichamon Nene Lonergan, age 16.
When I looked at him then, I knew. By the way the stars echoed in his eyes and that goofy little involuntary smile. The way there’s a million heavenly bodies above but he shunned them all, looking at me like I was the brightest thing in the sky. Starstruck. We were planets in orbit. Galaxy-eyed eclipses. Nuclear hearts constellating into something beyond words. Sparks like space dust falling into place. “Tony?” “Yeah?” “This is the part where you kiss me.” “…” He opened his mouth as if to say something but instead smiled; adoration laced with patronising dismay. The classic you’re-stupid-and-I’m-ashamed-of-you smile. Heat rose to my face suddenly and I looked down at my hands. “You’re not supposed to ask.” “Y…yeah? Well… it looked like you were too big of a wuss to do it, so I did.” He started to argue and then closed his lips. There was decision in his eyes. I moved closer and so did he. The air was drawing us together, a perpetual motion. I touched his hand, and to my surprise, he closed his fingers around mine; the
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