Drowning in Stars Read online

  Table of Contents

  Drowning in stars

  Praise For Debra Anastasia Books

  Other Titles By Debra Anastasia

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  … he walked a tightrope five stories up just to hold my hand.

  Gaze: I moved into the building next to Pixie when I was eleven. She blew bubbles through my window. I shot my Nerf gun through hers. We both had secrets, but one of us was fated to get hurt. I wanted it to be me.

  Pixie: When I was afraid of the dark, he would shine a light in my window. We shared our popsicles and I taught him how to get a good swing on the playground. I never imagined I’d have to decide who got to live and who didn’t. I chose him --and he could never know.

  She walked a tightrope five stories up just to save my life…

  Praise For Debra Anastasia Books

  “I wish I could go back and wipe my memory and read DROWING IN STARS again for the first time. I can’t even express how much I love this story. It is HANDS DOWN my favourite story from Deb and absolutely a top 2020 read. I don’t care what else I read for the rest of the year, this book is sitting at my number freaking one.” ~ Helena Hunting NYT Bestselling Author

  Debra Anastasia’s writing is imaginary, dark, comedic, and the perfect sexy. Drowning in Stars is the perfect representation of her!

  — Tijan NYT Bestselling Author

  “Debra Anastasia has succeeded in writing my FAVORITE

  BOOK OF 2017. Mercy is sensual, deep, emotional and so

  much more. I devoured every delicious word...”

  ~TM Fraizer USA Today Bestselling Author

  “This book blew me away. I laughed, I cried, and felt every

  emotion in between. Debra Anastasia has outdone herself. What

  a beautifully written tale of love and devotion, heartache and

  redemption. I DEVOURED every word.”

  ~Tina Reber NYT Bestselling Author

  “A heartfelt and heart-wrenching romance, Mercy, is a MUSTREAD

  and new top 2017 book for me!”

  ~Karen from Bookalicious Babes Blog

  “Booty Camp is one that you do not want to miss. If you just

  thought you loved this author’s work before, you ain’t seen

  nothing yet boys and girls.”

  ~Hooker Heels Book Blog

  Other Titles By Debra Anastasia

  ANGST

  Drowning in Stars

  Mercy

  Havoc

  Lock

  Poughkeepsie Begins

  Poughkeepsie

  Return to Poughkeepsie

  Saving Poughkeepsie

  COMEDY

  BEAST

  Booty Camp Dating Service

  Fire Down Below

  Fire in the Hole

  Felony Ever After

  Late Night with Andres

  PARANORMAL

  For All The Evers

  The Revenger

  Crushed Seraphim

  Copyright © 2020 by Debra Anastasia

  All rights reserved

  Published by Debra Anastasia

  Drowning in Stars is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are

  all products of the author’s ridiculous imagination and are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is

  entirely coincidental.

  Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this

  publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form by

  any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior

  written permission of the author.

  Cover Design: TJ Designs

  Content Edits: Paige Smith

  Interior Design: CP Smith

  Website

  T, J and D it’s always all for you.

  Prologue

  THE SOUND OF a man’s body hitting the pavement five stories below shouldn’t be in a love story. We never did anything the right way—he and I.

  The fire painted his face with an orange glow. I didn’t want to look to see what had happened, so he did. I watched as his childhood dripped off of him like perspiration.

  His jaw tightened as he clenched his fists. I watched as he mouthed something to the form below.

  I swallowed my own childhood as I made way for my next words. “Is he dead?”

  “Yeah.” He spat from the window, and I would bet my life that he’d hit his mark below. He was great at spitting. “Too fast for him. Too easy for him.”

  I leaned toward the window, all of a sudden compelled to see.

  He turned and blocked the open window, grasping my shoulders. “Nah. You don’t get to carry that image in your head. I’ll do it for both of us.”

  I moved closer to the window, which was also incidentally into his arms. He was an amazing hugger.

  “Maybe I should be crying? Am I doing this right?” I bet I was in shock.

  He petted my head from the crown to the middle of my back. “You can cry if you want.”

  He wouldn’t judge me. Never had. Never would.

  “We just murdered a man.”

  And then the truth flowed from me, like it always seemed to with him. He was like speaking to my own reflection. Things were only between the two of us. “No. He deserved it.”

  He got me. He knew what I was asking. I wanted a trophy of this monster’s death. Deserved it. God help me, I’d earned it.

  I hugged him again and listened to his heartbeat as the building next to his sizzled and burned. The beat was steady despite the burden it carried.

  I hoped we only had to share this one death.

  Cha
pter 1

  Pixie

  6 years earlier . . .

  THE BUBBLES I aimed from the novelty gun from the dollar store were flying true tonight. I always focused on the open window across from my bedroom. A little game I played when I was up. It was a sticky, hot night. No air-conditioning. In our neighborhood, it was a luxury.

  I made a wish as the bubbles went cruising through the open window that didn’t have a screen, just like mine. I looked up at the moon and winked at him. It was hard to see the stars in the city, but the moon always made a spectacle of himself.

  I wished for...something. A feeling, not really a wish. I wanted the easy hope that came to the rich girls at school. The careless tossing of a cell phone, the sureness that their stomach wouldn’t growl in the middle of math. I wanted hope and carelessness, I guess.

  I tucked back inside my window when I heard footfalls beneath me. I was five stories up, so I was pretty okay. But habit. Here you stayed out of sight to stay safe. The eyes looking at you might not have anything nice in their thoughts or plans. And it was three a.m., according to the alarm clock I had on my floor. Even at that time, people would be out in the skinny alley below me.

  I wanted to try my luck at scoring another wish. Today was my birthday. Well, I mean, I guess I would have to go to sleep for it to count, but it was past midnight. My bubble gun was my present. Even though it was the start of summer, the gun had been in the clearance section.

  I popped my head out and saw that the alley was clear of people. The dumpsters were overflowing. There was trash that was close to them, but not actually in the bins.

  I saw the flash for an instant, but I couldn’t move fast enough. I was drilled in the forehead with a Nerf bullet.

  “Ow!” I rubbed my head and gave the boy in the window the fiercest look I could. I even gave him the middle finger.

  “What? You’re shooting me! I was sleeping, and the next thing I know bubbles are in my face and my freaking eyes!”

  I spied below, and the people who had been loitering there had moved on. I held my gun out. “If you were sleeping, how’d the bubbles get in your eyes? Your lids would have been closed.”

  The new kid was lying. I could tell. He put his hand through his hair, smoothing it down. “I was trying to sleep. It’s hot. I kept getting smacked with your bubbles.”

  He shot another Nerf dart through my window. It whizzed past my cheek.

  “Save those bullets for me, though. I need them back.”

  I squished my face up at him. “No. I’m not saving you crap.”

  He looked dejectedly at his gun. “I only have four left.”

  “You should’ve thought of that before hitting me in the face on my birthday.” I rubbed my forehead.

  His face lit up. “Happy cake day! How old are you?”

  His smile made me put down a little of my guard. “Twelve…”

  “Same as me! I bet we will be in the same school.” He aimed his gun at my window and a little past it, but didn’t pull the trigger. “My birthday was yesterday. I’m twelve, too.”

  I gave him the news he clearly didn’t know. “Maybe, but your building can be a different district than mine.” I scratched my elbow before sizing him up again. Brown hair and brown eyes. Skinny. He seemed younger than me, even though we were the same age. I had boys in my class shorter than me. I aimed my gun again, letting the stream of little bubbles fly. He quickly started poking them to pop them when they were close enough.

  “How’s your school?” He bit at one of the bubbles and made a face. I’m sure the soap didn’t taste good.

  “Sucks. The other school for your building is pretty good.” Back in the day Mom tried to get an apartment in that building, but they didn’t take assistance checks. They did now, though. The whole building had changed ownership a few years back. But Mom said it was too late to move.

  “Why is it good?” He narrowed his eyes while continuing to pop my bubbles.

  “I’ve heard they have a little courtyard where you can have lunch with trees and flowers and stuff. Field trips, too. Lots of them. At least that’s what my friend says. She knows someone who has a cousin that goes there.” The dull whir of the bubble gun combined with the sounds of the night. We heard trucks shifting gears and honking. The exhaust mixing with the humidity made it seem impossible to sleep.

  “What’s your name?” He leaned out the window, looking at the concrete five stories below.

  “Pixie Rae Stone.” My stupid name. “My mom was hoping for a Southern belle fairy, not a daughter when she gave birth to me.”

  “I’m Gaze Patrick Jones.” He squinted one eye and pointed his Nerf gun at a pigeon that was sitting on a ledge of my building.

  “What’s that short for?” I aimed my bubbles at the pigeon and he took flight.

  “I’m not short. Maybe you’re too tall.”

  I pulled back into the window. “How do you know I’m tall?” I mean, I was tall-ish but still shorter than my mom.

  “I’ve seen you walking around over there.” He pointed his gun and accidently shot it. The bullet slammed into the window frame and tumbled down between our buildings. “Shit.”

  “Damn, you’re allowed to curse?” I leaned back out, fairly confident that he was done shooting, not wanting to lose any more Nerf bullets.

  “Sure am. When it’s night, nobody’s listening but you, Pixie Rae.” He smiled at me, and I felt myself smile in return.

  “I didn’t say you were short. I was just wondering if you had a more formal name. Like if Gaze was short for anything.”

  “Oh. Well, my dad named me after Gazerbeam in The Incredibles, but Gaze is what’s on my birth certificate.” He scratched his head with the end of his Nerf pistol.

  “All right.” I wasn’t sure if I liked him or not yet. The little old lady that used to live in his apartment rarely went into this room, but her cat did. I was pretty disappointed when the fat tabby moved out.

  Gaze pointed his gun at the pigeon who had flown back in to reclaim his spot. “I hate those sky rats.”

  “I like them. They’re ballsy.”

  He looked from the bird to me and back again. “Never had one crap on your head before, have you?”

  “Not yet,” I agreed. “But since today’s my birthday, maybe I’ll get lucky.”

  Gaze laughed. “Maybe. Fingers crossed.” He crossed his fingers. The hall light behind him illuminated. He pushed away from the window and faced the man who entered.

  I tucked back into my room. I could hear the murmurings between Gaze and the man, but not make out any words.

  I went to my bed to sit down. Officially, it was my birthday now. I mean, someone had already wished me a happy cake day, so that was that. I was twelve years old now.

  I lay back on my mattress and watched as Gaze and the man seemed to get into a longer conversation. During the summer, I spent a lot of time by myself. Mom had two jobs and was interviewing for a third, and ever since I was eight I’d been able to stay by myself. I loved reading and was allowed to walk to the library three blocks down. It had to be during the day and before lunch, but I was allowed.

  Mom worked hard to make ends meet. She told me that a lot when she was home. First, she worked full-time at the gas station BILCO, which also had a limited grocery section. It was across town. She always had five days of work and was responsible for covering for employees that called out sick or quit. Her second job was cleaning the office two buildings down from the BILCO station. The third job was with the building she cleaned in the evenings. They were interested in having her travel with some of the employees and help keep them organized, get their business clothes ready, make appointments, and clean their rooms and conference spaces in the downtime.

  She was really praying for the third job. She said she’d be able to leave the BILCO station, but she would have to travel a lot. We would cross that bridge when we got to it. Of course, I had more time on my hands than she did, so I worried about it anyway. I really d
idn’t like having to stay by myself. Legally, it wasn’t allowed, but as Mom always said, we had to make sacrifices.

  I let my bubble gun run until I was out of bubble juice. When I propped myself up on my elbow, the hall light at Gaze’s apartment was off. A Nerf gun bullet flew through my window. It hit my wall and landed on my chest. The bullet had a little note tucked around it and affixed with Scotch tape.

  Happy birthday!

  Gaze’s handwriting was crap, but I smiled. It might be nice to have someone to talk to. If he stayed around. And if he wasn’t a jerk.

  Chapter 2

  GAZE

  I LAY IN the dark, looking at my ceiling. My new ceiling. Dad didn’t even yell about me being up. The new dad. The gentle dad. He was rehabilitated, at least that’s what he said. The going was good. He told me that a few times. He was selling electronics this time and promised to bring home some good things from the store. He started it with this nice Nerf gun to celebrate the apartment.

  I should have known better than to hope things would stay this way, but that was Dad’s trick. He could make anybody believe anything. Even me.

  I had to start the new school at the end of the summer. Pixie Rae seemed nice. At least she was someone to talk to. She was a good shot with the bubbles. Maybe we could throw a ball back-and-forth? She seemed a little lonely. But maybe she was just tired—it was really early in the morning.

  I rolled onto my side and set my Nerf gun down. My mattress was a nice size, queen or something. It wasn’t new. Dad had gotten it from an old couple in our last neighborhood. Their bodies had forced the mattress to dip on either side, with a visible bump in the middle, so I stayed to one side. It was like I was an egg in a carton. But it was pretty comfortable, and laying it on the floor helped a little. Dad said we were waiting on my bedframe to be delivered, but he hadn’t mentioned when. I was thinking leaving the mattress on the floor might be the way to go.

  It was hot here, in the city. We’d lived on the outskirts in a neighborhood. It was cooler there. The trees and the fields were nice. But now we lived here. We had to go where the money took us. I had the whole summer to kill before school was due to start. A whole neighborhood to get to know…