The next night, Evan spent a full twenty minutes staring at his closet like he was preparing for a red carpet rather than a meteor shower.
What does one wear to stargaze with their astrophysics crush?
Too much cologne? Weird.
Too little effort? Also weird.
Tank top? Too thirsty.
Sweater? Too Noel.
In the end, he settled on a soft gray hoodie (clean, no holes), black joggers, and—because why not—a little bit of his roommate's fancy hair product.
When he got to the observatory, the building was quiet, the lights dimmed, and a laminated sign on the front door read:
"STARGAZING NIGHT – Roof Access via South Stairwell. Bring your own blanket. No loud music. No snacks that attract birds."
Evan had ignored that last part and stuffed a pack of gummy stars in his pocket anyway.
He made his way up the narrow stairwell, heart beating loud enough to echo, and pushed open the rooftop door to find—
Noel already there.
He was stretched out on a thin fleece blanket, arms folded behind his head, gazing up at the night sky like he was listening to a private conversation.
The air was crisp and clean, stars glittering in a way Evan usually only saw through Instagram filters.
"You came," Noel said without looking.
"I said I would," Evan replied, padding across the rooftop like it might shatter.
"You're late."
"Fashionably."
Noel smirked. "You're lucky the show hasn't started yet."
Evan hesitated, then sat beside him, pulling his own thin hoodie tighter around his chest. After a second, he lay back too, their shoulders not touching—but almost.
For a while, they were silent, watching the velvet sky. Then Noel pointed up.
"There," he murmured. "Lyra. That's where the meteor shower's coming from. Dust trails from an old comet."
Evan tilted his head. "It's weird."
"What is?"
"How you always talk about space like it's alive."
Noel turned his head just slightly toward him. "Isn't it?"
Evan blinked. "I don't know. I guess I always thought of it as... still. Just floating rocks and burning gas."
Noel looked back at the sky. "Even stars die, you know. It's never still up there."
They fell into another stretch of silence—warm, not awkward—until a streak of silver dashed across the sky. Then another.
Evan sucked in a breath. "Whoa."
"They're early," Noel said, sounding almost smug.
Evan sat up slightly. "You do this a lot?"
Noel shrugged. "Every chance I get."
"By yourself?"
"Usually."
Something in that answer tugged at Evan's chest.
"Well," he said quietly, "not tonight."
Noel looked at him again. Really looked at him. For a moment, all Evan could hear was the hum of the rooftop lights and his own heartbeat. Then Noel smiled. It was different than before—not small or restrained. Just... honest.
"I'm glad," he said.
Evan stared at him for a second too long. Then, panic rising, he blurted, "Want a gummy star?"
Noel blinked, then snorted. "Sure."
They lay back down, shoulder to shoulder now, passing the gummy stars between them like astronauts sharing rations. Above, the meteors kept falling—silver streaks across an endless sky.
And below, Evan whispered to himself:
I am so in trouble.