Fire In The Sky


When I was a little girl, Independence Day used to be my favorite holiday of the year; the celebration of our country, the gathering of family, but mostly the fireworks. The fireworks were always my favorite part.

I used to think of what it would be like if I was a firework, shooting into the sky high enough to touch the stars, bright enough to shine like one. That was until Daddy started running for Senator.

Families are supposed to be close-knit, bonded together so much that they could share everything with one another. But that all changed when he decided to start running. Tensions that were previously in the family became elevated, whispers became shouts, and my parents ignored me more and more.

I became invisible.

Something I was not used to at all.

So, as you probably know, today is Independence Day and all I'm doing is sitting on the top of a nearly bald hill of my parent's estate, watching the distant fireworks from the city. I pull my knees into my chest, wrap my arms around them and brace myself for the warm salty tears to run down my face.

This has become a ritual over the years: sit on a hill, wrap self in arms and bawl eyes out.

It's not like it does anything to help the emptiness I feel when I look at my parents, but it's more of knowing that maybe one day I'll shine as bright as those fireworks, and they'll finally pay attention to me.

The first firework, a pretty blue one, shoots into the sky like a blossoming flower and then blinks out quickly. And cue the tears.

As the next groups of fireworks follow the first, I hear the whistles of their rockets shooting into the air and people shouting in glee at watching the beautiful lights shine through the sky.

And then I hear the footsteps. Footsteps that are so light and hesitant that if I hadn't had the level of training I've had, I wouldn't have noticed. A warm body sits down next to me and wraps a reassuring arm around my shoulders.

Knowing who it is, I smile and lean slightly into the figure.

"Crying doesn't help anything. I hope you know that," his voice is soft and not harsh at all, unlike the way Mom treats me.

I turn to look at him. "How'd you get here?"

Preston grins. "I walked from your house."

I roll my eyes and pull away from his embrace, wrapping my arms tighter around my knees.

He chuckles and says, "Okay fine. I figured that you wouldn't want to be alone tonight so I asked your mom where you were, she told me, and wahlah!" he motions in the air with his hands like a magician and I have to laugh at him.

I still haven't gotten used to the fact that Preston has gotten hotter. Way hotter and way funnier.

He wraps his arm around me again, not letting me pull away when I try.

"You know, I used to think being a firework was cool. But then I realized that it's only beautiful for a short while and then it disappears," he said, "I don't want that."

I look at him in wonder and a slight frown passes across my face. How had he known the perfect thing to say, and when to say it?

I scoot closer to him, enjoying the warmth and say, "I always thought it would be great too. Even if the beauty only lasted a second, it would be worth it."

He raises his eyebrows and slightly shakes his head.

"What?" I question.

He shakes his head again and chuckles under his breath.

I grab ahold of his forearms tightly and he winces slightly. "What are you laughing at?"

He stops laughing and simply says, "You."

My jaw gapes open. Not ever in my life has anyone laughed at me, for any reason.

"What's there to laugh at?"

He pulls me tighter against him, so there's almost no room between us at all and whispers, "Because you don't need to be beautiful for a second, Macey. You've been beautiful since the moment I first met you and before."

I swallow hard and avert my eyes away from him, the first time I've been dumbstruck in a very long time.

More fireworks go off in the distance, but all I can hear are his words repeating in my head. You've been beautiful since the moment I first met you. You've been beautiful since the moment I first met you. The words replay in my head like a broken record player.

You've been beautiful since the moment I first met you.

Wary by my silence, Preston turns me toward him, his face etched with worry. "Mace, did I say something wro-,"

But I cut him off with a fierce kiss and wrap my arms around his neck. We go on like this for a few moments and then he pulls away.

"What was that for?" he asks.

"Consider it a thank you," I say smiling at his shocked expression.

"For what?"

I kiss him again lightly and lean into his chest, which has gotten more defined since I last saw him. "For being you and always knowing what to say. I don't know what I'd do without you."


an: so, this is just a fun little one-shot i thought up while at a festival thing my town did today. hope you all like it!

Happy Independence Day to all the American Gallagher Girls out there!

Love you all.

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