The Secrets of Constellations

Contents Cover Title Page Contents Copyright Dedication 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 Thank You For Reading About the Author Cover Contents Copyright Beginning About the Author 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 contents
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 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
 
 
 
 
 Thank You For Reading
 
 
 About the Author
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 The Secrets of Constellations
 Copyright © 2023 by S. H. Clark
 
 
 
 ISBN: 979-8-88653-103-9
 
 
 
 Fire & Ice Young Adult Books
 An Imprint of Melange Books, LLC
 White Bear Lake, MN 55110
 www.fireandiceya.com
 
 
 
 Smashwords Edition
 
 
 
 Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.
 
 
 
 Published in the United States of America.
 
 
 
 Cover Design by Caroline Andrus
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 To Sandy and Larry, who taught me to reach for the stars.
 To Da Chen, who believed in my voice and destination.
 To Erica, who believed in a small town under the stars.
 To Stephanie, who helped me with all things Native.
 To Baba, who stayed with me until the end.
 
 
 
 
 
 This is for you.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 one
 
 
 
 
 
 Last night, I stabbed the Jabberwocky while eating a piece of cake, and it felt good! Tasted good, too! “Next time, nightmares, bring me your captain. I’ll use his hook to hang my tomato vines!” I pointed a paring knife at my disheveled reflection in the oven door. The Disney symphony in the background built to a crescendo, and I laughed like the perfect childhood villain.
 “Norae?”
 Admittedly, I screamed, but it was totally called for. Not only had Mom scared the crap out of me, but I also dropped the knife. I never danced like a monkey so fast. Embarrassing? Completely, but my toes were still attached. Mom stood in the doorway with her hands on her stomach, her cheeks pink, her lips thinned as she held herself together.
 “I hate when you sneak up on me,” I told her. I picked up the knife and set it down on the counter next to a pile of sliced strawberries. Reluctantly, I turned off the stereo. Chernabog and his mountain could wait.
 “Battling with your dreams again?” Mom guessed. Her layered skirt brushed the marble floor as she swayed toward the oven. “What was it this time? Dogs, donuts, or Duff?”
 I rolled my eyes. “I haven’t had dreams about Goldman in months,” I defended. “For your information, I was dreaming about Alice in Wonderland.”
 “If you’re dreaming about monsters, I’m afraid your mind is trying to tell you something.” Mom clicked her tongue as she shook her finger in my face. “Worried about something?”
 “Maybe I’m worried about ruining my cake because my mother likes to interpret dreams over breakfast.”
 The strawberry cake filled the kitchen with a pleasant smell of home. It should’ve been warm in the kitchen, but I’d opened the backyard’s double doors to let in the chill of the morning. Later, it would get sticky. Connecticut summers came with oppressive humidity, but the chilly morning was a welcomed guest. 
 “The cake smells amazing!” Mom clapped her hands together with enthusiasm. “Are you making strawberry buttercream to go with it?”
 Her praise sent warm chills down my spine. “Of course!” She disappeared behind the fridge door. “Orange juice is on the top shelf. Fruit tarts are on the bottom.” A peace sign appeared over the edge of the door. “And I boiled a few eggs for you. You heard the doctor.” Mom’s head popped up. Tight, brown curls flew around her narrow face like a forest of vines. “Don’t shoot the messenger,” I added.
 “I can’t. Who’s going to cook around here?”
 Mom took her breakfast assortment to the kitchen table, careful of her skirt and its natural tendency of getting stuck under the chair legs. I glanced at the clock, watching the second-hand inch closer and closer to the hour. Three…two…one… Out came the tarot cards with an expert shuffle and the jingle of bracelets. I examined the deck with an eye of disbelief. Yesterday, they claimed Ms. Golishna would kiss a frog, join the army, and move to a city full of luxurious couches. The eighty-three-year-old woman was about to move into an apartment for assisted care. 
 “So, big day today, birthday girl,” Mom beamed around a mouthful of the tart. “Let’s see what the cards say. I’m feeling energized. They’re speaking to me.”
 I hated the thought of unseen supernatural beings foretelling my future. Something about the whole knowing things before they happened