The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,342

at my phone and see nothing but a blur. I forgot that I took my contact lenses out last night because the sand wreaks havoc on them.

I grope for the glasses I only wear first thing in the morning. I slip them on and check the time. It’s only 4:30. I lay back for a few minutes. I have two more alarms set for 5:00 and 5:30, but I won’t need them.

I’m too excited to sleep.

This is the entire reason I planned this three -day trip. For the next couple of days Venus will be visible in the morning sky.

My desire to see this rare sight has only one rival for my attention. And she’s lying next to me. I wasn’t going to wake her. Most people could care less about this shit. But now I want her by my side when I see it; And, I want her to see it, too.

“Wake up.” I nudge Regan with my foot and switch on the lamp beside the twin bed we’re sharing.

“What? What’s wrong?” she asks only barely coherent as she pushes tangled locks of hair out of her face and peers around the tent.

“Nothing’s wrong, I want you to see something,” I assure her.

“We just went to sleep,” she groans and covers her head with the sheet.

“No, we didn’t. And you have to get up.” I pull it back down.

“The sun’s not even up,” she glares at me and snatches the covers back over her.

“That’s the whole point.” I nudge her shoulder.

“I’ll pass,” she snuggles deeper into the bed.

“Fine, but you’re going to miss one of the galaxy’s most underrated party tricks.” I slip my arm from under her and sit up. I glance over my shoulder. “And of course, there’ll be sex at sunrise.”

“You should have led with that,” she quips and throws the covers off revealing a vision more beautiful than any fantasy I’ve ever conjured. My throat feels tight and my balls ache just looking at her. She crawls out of bed and slips a pair of cut shorts and her tank top on. We walk hand in hand out onto the soft white sand beach.

Like my companion this morning, the predawn sky is too beautiful to be real. It covers us like a blanket of indigo and sapphire. Out here, with no artificial light to disrupt them, the stars look like a million jewels sewn into a velvet canvas.

The moon is low and so bright that its reflection turns the sea below it into a mirror of liquid silver. The water laps at the shore in gentle licks and it feels like we’re standing on a planet that’s part of the solar system, and not just a beach in Mexico.

“I’ll never get over how beautiful this place is. Thank you so much for bringing me.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” I promise and guide her to the spot where I set up the telescope.

I was eight when I got my first telescope and I fell irrevocably in love with the sky. For a child whose curiosity felt insatiable, the possibility of unending questions and endless discovery was like finding the Holy Grail.

To this day, no matter how many times I see it, the scope and breadth of the galaxy never ceases to amaze me.

“What are you looking at?” Regan’s question snaps me out of my drifting thoughts. I finish focusing my viewfinder and step away.

“Come see,” I beckon her over.

She smiles excitedly at me before she looks into the viewfinder and then back at me, and the delight in her eyes, clear even in the dark of dusk, makes my stomach do a flip.

“Wow it’s so beautiful. What is this?”

“It’s pointed at Venus. If you just look, you shouldn’t have to adjust it to see.”

“Oh my god, for real? Like the planet, Venus?” She puts her eye back to the scope and gasps and her back arches a little.

I wish I could look at the same time; I want to see what she does.

“This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, tell me about it, please.”

“For real?” I ask, surprised. My friends and family humor me and the wonder this holds for me, but they never ask me to talk about it.

“Yes, I want to know everything. God, I wish my kids could see this. This is mind blowing.” The awe in her voice is gratifying and the imagery her words conjure, rather than feeling like a pesky reminder of our outside lives, is endearing. “Well,