Lying Under Stars

I loved May. It had always been one of my favourite times of year; the perfect balance between spring and summer- not too hot, but not too cold either. Warm. Of course, when you had spent your life growing up in California like I had, you became used to the warmth. I was spending time relaxing under the tallest tree in our family's decently-sized garden, looking up at the sky and feeling at peace with its clarity as I bathed in the sunlight. Our family lived in a grand home in Orange County. We hadn't always lived here. However, my father's automobile business-Harper Motors took off, and with it our family became much wealthier than we had ever previously imagined, in what felt like seconds. I had always admired my father. He had always been extraordinarily driven to get what he desired, and he had proven, in my eyes at least, that as long as you worked hard for something- you could obtain it.

I may not have got down the business route like he had, but I had been to Stanford University. I almost hadn't believed it when I got the acceptance letter three years ago, but hard work truly did seem to pay off. It was there that I had studied a degree in psychology. The main goal out of this was to eventually become a counselor. Being supportive was true to my nature, and I had been greatly encouraged to pursue the career after I had mentioned it to my main professor on campus, Miss West. I had managed to graduate with a top score, which surprised me, despite countless hours of studying. Perhaps we can all fall a little victim to impostor syndrome. Anyhow, I had done it. It still amazed me, in all honesty, but then it had only been about a month since I had returned home from university to celebrate with my family and spend some well-deserved time relaxing in the summer weather before I started up my career in the fall.

It seemed like the world was cheering me on, and it made me smile- even now. Nevertheless, as I thought on it a little more, I felt an apple drop from one of the branches above me, gracefully hitting me in the arm. Ouch. Okay, maybe not all of the world was cheering me on. Gravity had broken me from my reverie. I grabbed hold of the red fruit and decided that it was about time I returned indoors, with several thoughts of what the future would have in store for me still in mind. I would have to take my mind off of them for a short while, though. I had family to see, and work to do. Sending off job applications was no easy feat, I had come to realise.

Sliding the glass door open, I returned to the inside world. I went to wash the apple in the sink, making it have a particular shine to it, before biting into the fruit to hear a satisfying crunch. It was deliciously sweet.

"What happened to your arm?" my older brother Jake's voice spoke, slightly startling me.

I looked to see what he was talking about, then, and saw a slight pink mark from where the apple had hit me.

"I got bitten by a wasp that turns you into a soul-leaching being," I said, looking back towards my apple for a moment, silently scolding it for the bruise it was bound to have caused.

My brother gave a playful roll of his eyes.

"Very imaginative, Alls," he said. My brother and I both had short names, which meant that any nicknames we came up with for one another were veritably basic.

"Well, I am the writer in this family, J," I retorted. I looked towards him with a kind smile then, meeting his gaze.

"What?" he asked, reaching for an apple himself.

"How is your business going?" I asked him. My brother had taken after my father in terms of what he wanted to do career wise. He had started up a watch company a few years back with some money that dad had lent him. I think that it was going well.

Then again, it did seem like that was all my brother did some days. He was entirely focused on his career and quietly powerful, too, when it came to his work.

He swallowed the bite he had taken from his apple, before replying.

"It's going well, Ally. Written any masterpieces yet?" he asked me.

"I didn't realise you noticed I write," I joked.

"I notice everything," my brother said, seriously.

I just smiled in gentle amusement.

"Nobody notices everything," I said.

"I do," Jake said, and the sincerity of his stare was enough to tell me that he meant it. My brother could be a little intense at times. He was good at reading people- almost better than me, I might have said, had I not studied psychology for as long as I had. Despite that, though, I had always been an observant soul.

"My writing is going well," I replied, realising that I was taking my time in responding. My thoughts did have a tendency to drift at times. I was a much better thinker and listener than I was a speaker. At least, that was something that I had been told my whole life.

Someone spoke from behind me then, "Glad to hear it, kiddo."

I turned to see my father standing there. Jackson Harper- the owner of Harper Motors, and the kindest man I had ever met.

"Hey dad," I said with a smile.

"Did you get those applications in?" he inquired.

I had been applying for counselling jobs since finishing the degree. Of course, I had.

"Yep," I said, with a grin.

"Ever so reliable. Love it," my dad said.

My brother looked towards me with a slightly jealous glint in his eye. At least, that's what I believed it to be. My father had a slight favour of me- and I didn't want to brag, it had just become apparent over the years. I was close with both of my parents, but even more so with my father.

"Now I just have to play the waiting game," I stated. Fortunately, I had always been incredibly patient.

My dad smiled with a caring glimmer in his eyes.

"How are you doing, Ally?" he asked.

"I'm good thank you- I think I might have come up with another story idea," I stated.

My brother raised an eyebrow at that.

"Is it about soul-leaching wasps?" he asked, beginning to head to the doorway of the kitchen with a slight smirk on his face, before disappearing.

My dad's eyes widened at me, establishing his curiosity.

"What was all that about?" he asked.

I gave a shrug, "Just something we were discussing earlier."

He nodded, and seemed to shift the weight between his feet. I knew what that meant.

"Let me guess- you need to get back to work," I thought aloud.

"Yep. Sorry kiddo. Lunch time will be soon, though," he said, and kissed my forehead before heading out of the kitchen.

I thought that my brother had returned to his own work, but I could hear him speaking with my mother, Anne, outside in the hallway.

"What happened to your leg, Jake?" my mother's concerned voice asked.

Of course, my brother took an interest in athletics and weight lifting. I was convinced he was trying to be perfect in ever facet of his being. My mother's question took me a little by surprise, but then I supposed that he had a slight limp in his step, when he had spoken with me earlier.

"Eh, it'll go," he said.

"You need to rest it," I spoke up then, meeting with the two of them out in the hall.

My mother turned to give me a kind smile in greeting; my brother just gave a roll of his eyes.

"I'm fine," he said.

I would believe it when I had seen it. My brother was staunchly independent. He didn't want anyone to interfere with that aspect of himself, even if it was just when they expressed their concern for him. I wondered how his girlfriend, Kendall Amor, managed at times. I took my thoughts away from my childhood friend for a moment, and just shrugged as my brother narrowed his eyes at me.

"I better get back to it. See you two later," he said kindly, and made for his office, undoubtedly.

My mother turned back to me then.

"Hey Ally," she said in her harmonious tone. Every time I saw my mother, I was reminded of just how beautiful she was. The sun, which was beginning to rise further into the sky as midday approached, simply illuminated her features. To state that my mother looked like a professional portrait would do her features no justice. Her beauty was admirable in every sense. "How did applying go?" she asked. Of course, my parents pushed me to do well in school. They both wanted me to be successful, too. However, this pushing was in the supportive sense. My mother would have never made me do anything that I didn't want to. She was understanding in that respect. Nevertheless, there were always things that I simply couldn't share with her. Not yet, anyway.

"It went well," I said, and she smiled in response to that, "Just waiting to hear back."

Although my mother's eyes brightened a little in how proud she was of me, I could tell that she had a lot on her mind.

I would forever be an observant person- I suppose that came with being one of the quieter girls at school and university. You became a master of observation. I sometimes wondered whether there would be more to my life than being the wallflower, though.

"You're worried about Jake, aren't you?" I asked her.

In all honesty, my mother had always had her concerns about my brother. He was the eldest, and he set a brilliant example to me, of course. However, she sometimes could worry that he was pushing himself too much- if such a thing were possible. I think maybe she thought that he would be deeply drawn into his work like quicksand.

"I suppose I just wish he would talk to me more. Ever since his business-"

"Ever since his business took off, he has been happier, mom. He's found his calling. He'll be okay," I reassured her.

She gave a nod at that, seeming a little more at peace with my pleasant words.

"Thank you, Ally. I better go make up some lunch- Henrietta isn't working at the moment," she said.

Henrietta was our chef. She only worked some days, though. Recently- she wasn't working at all. She had fallen pregnant in the winter, and was taking her maternity leave.

"Alright mom," I said, "Need any help?" I asked.

She gave a shake of her head.

"I think I've got this one. Thank you for offering, though," she told me.

I simply nodded, and headed off down the hall, briefly passing by Jake's office. I could hear him talking to my father inside. The door was open a little, and being tempted to eavesdrop as I was wont to do, I edged a little closer and listened in.

"Jake Harper industries," dad said, "It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Indeed it does," my brother replied.

It figured that he would name his business that. He was incredibly independent, and this stretched to his work. He had people that made his products, sure, but the designs, the marketing, everything else- that was all carried out by him. He tended to speak to our father about this work, though, because Jackson had inspired him. His own successful business had encouraged a lot of people to try to achieve what he had- it figured that one of his own children would end up as successful. My father used to work alongside Kendall's father just before she was born and before he left the state of Nevada to move here to California.

"I'll let you get on with it," my father told him, and headed out into the hall just after I had stumbled away from the door. My brother had noticed, though, and raised an eyebrow at me from his desk.

"Snooping around, huh?" he asked with a slight smirk.

"It's fun- you find out so much about people that way," I stated, unashamed.

Jackson looked towards me with an amused expression, before giving me a wave as he went to do his own work.

"Want to join me?" Jake asked.

Now, this was a rare opportunity because I barely got to spend time with him anymore due to how 'busy' he was. I know, I'm 21, I probably shouldn't want to spend so much time with my brother anymore, but it did sort of sadden me at times to think of how close we used to be and how much time we spent apart nowadays. I suppose part of me, no matter how small, just truly feared the inevitability of change and growing up.

"Sure," I said with a grin, wandering into his office and sitting down on one of the comfy red leather chairs. "This is going to be amazing- your business, I mean," I said enthusiastically.

He looked towards me then and raised an eyebrow.

"I just mean- your watch business, my writing- we're going to be selling so much," I said. I may not have had the most confidence in a range of aspects of my life, but my writing was one area that I did have confidence. I was going to make it one day. I would get a book published and I would do all that I could to ensure it happened.

My brother's will was as strong as mine; despite the odds, despite what people may have told him he could achieve, his business took off.

"We're just cool like that," my brother said with amusement in his eyes.

He looked behind me then, as my mother was standing in the doorway.

"I brought you two sandwiches, enjoy!" she grinned.

My mother was the connoisseur of making good paninis, I swear.

"Thanks mom," I said to her with a grin.

"This is amazing, thank you," Jake added.

She then gave a wave and walked back out of the room.

Jake shifted slightly from side to side in his wheeled chair, looking at a poster on the wall for a moment. It showed the lunar cycle. I think it was supposedly symbolic for something- maybe werewolves, but probably not. Perhaps it was simply a constant reminder that he could find the light in darkness.

"Hey Alison," my dad spoke from behind me, gaining my attention. I took another bite out of my sandwich and quickly chewed and gulped it down before turning to him.

"Yeah?"

"Can you come help me out with something?" he asked me.

Evidently, I gave a nod, and grabbed a hold of my plate while saying a swift goodbye to my brother.

I followed Jackson down the hall to his own office this time around. He knew I was a loyal supporter of his business, so much so that he would occasionally give me duties.

"What's the prob?" I asked.

"Not a prob necessarily. I just need you to look over these vehicle designs and trash the ones that aren't...you know," Jackson said.

"Good?"

"Well no just..."

One key difference between Jake and my father: my father hated being critical; my brother managed just fine.

I gave a small smile in humour, and began to flip through designs. Good. Good. Whoever designed the next one must have gotten cars and bricks mixed up...

My father spoke again, causing my thought cloud to drift away.

"Have you submitted any of your novels to publishers yet?" he asked me.

"Uh..." here we go, "Not yet," I said.

Alright, so I knew I was talented, but I think I had always struggled with impostor syndrome.

"I need to be direct with you here, Alison, and you need to listen, alright?" he asked me.

I muttered my agreement.

"You are so capable, Ally. You just need to not allow your anxiety to control you so much, you know? Don't be afraid to put yourself out there," he told me.

I knew he was right, but my chest still became a little tight with that nervous feeling.

"Yeah. I know, dad. Thank you," I told him.

I smiled in satisfaction at the now sorted pile of designs, which I placed back down upon his desk.

"All done," I said.