It is quiet. The summer night is thick with humidity and drunken conversation, but in the pool, it is quiet. My hair, loose, is wet and sticking to the sides of my face. I hear a soft splash and open my eyes to him sitting next to me, breathing just as slow and hard as I am.
“What’s wrong?,” he asks.
“I’m just sitting here.”
He puts his arm around me and sighs.
The sky is clear and beautiful. I put my head on his shoulder and we both look up, through the dark silhouettes of the branches over the pool. The sky is navy and endless and overwhelming. Stars glimmer, in and out of visibility, and we just sit here alone and happy in the quiet.
“Look,” I whisper, “It’s a plane. But it’s so small that it could be a shooting star.”
He shifts his gaze from the flickering sky to me.
“Make a wish,” he says.
I do. I wish that I can always have nights like this one; nights that are quiet, even when the days aren’t.
“My wish is always going to be the same,” he says, his eyes focused on me; my face turned to the sky.
I say nothing. A thousand thoughts run through my mind; all the rights and wrongs and common courtesies and rules of breakups, but I don’t say a word.
“Polaris.” he says.
“Polaris: The North Star. It’s the brightest star in the sky. It’s like the only thing I remember from Science.”
“Of course”, I laugh. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because, there are thousands of other stars in the sky, but no matter where you are, Polaris is always the brightest.”
l looked at him and looked back at the sky.