Shaking my head to release me from the memory, I felt my cheeks heat up with divulging so much. The jar was tight in my hand, and when I risked a glance to the side, Elsie’s eyes were glossy with unshed tears, and her small hand gripped tightly onto the locket around her neck.

My chest tightened at seeing her response, but as she squeezed my arm again, I knew she was asking me to keep going. Getting myself together, I placed the jar in front of where she sat.

Elsie watched me like she was hanging on my every word.

“Here in Seattle, we don’t get no lightning bugs, but Lexi wanted Dante to have those same Bama lightning bug jars in his room. I don’t know where she got the idea from, but she made him these because she couldn’t get the real thing.” I shrugged. “She made me help her. And I don’t know…” I sucked in the corner of my lip, before releasing it. “You made me think of this, when you said you don’t like sleeping in the dark.”

Moving her hand off mine, Elsie took the pad of paper from the pocket of the hoodie and set to writing a note. I read it. “Show me.”

“It’s kinda stupid and childish,” I said, real embarrassment ripping through me.

Elsie scribbled on her pad again. “I don’t care,” she wrote. I could see by the bright expression on her pretty face that she really didn’t.

I couldn’t believe it was well past midnight, and I was in Lexi’s craft room making fake firefly jars.

Feeling Elsie’s rapt attention, I picked up the jar and placed it down before me. Taking a glow stick that I’d borrowed from a drawer in Lexi’s desk, I cracked it, activating the neon liquid inside. I cut the stick in half with scissors and dropped them into the jar. Shutting the lid, I shook the jar until all the liquid had sprayed on the sides. I took out the empty plastic tube, re-shut the lid, then tied the ribbon around the top.

Laying the finished jar on the table, I sat back and announced, “It’s done.”

Elsie’s hand reached forward and she picked up the jar. Her forehead was creased, clearly trying to work out what I’d just done, then she looked at me with raised brows. Getting up from the chair, I walked to the light switch. I immediately saw panic on Elsie’s face, but I asked, “Trust me.” Every part of Elsie was still, but when her shoulders relaxed, she nodded her head.

I flicked off the light, and as soon as I did, I heard Elsie gasp. The jar, the glass jar in her hand, was beaming yellow neon light, its bright glow lit up the room.

I walked back to the table, and apologized. “It ain’t as good as the real thing, ain’t no lightning bugs buzzing about for you to watch, but it’s good enough for here and now. To be your light.”

I wasn’t sure if Elsie heard me, because her eyes never strayed from the jar. As the minutes passed in silence, I was worried her new hearing aid might not be working. But when her head finally turned to me, a huge smile was on her face, a huge blinding smile that knocked the breath right out of my lungs, I knew she’d heard me just fine.

Her fingers traced the splashes of glowing fluid on the inside of the jar, then she tapped her hand to her chin and lowered her hand. She’d signed something to me.

My eyes fixed on her lips, she dipped her eyes and mouthed, “Thank you.”

Chapter Seven

Elsie

The jar was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, but what this boy had done for me, what Levi Carillo had taken time to make me, was the prettiest thing of all.

He’d cared enough to bring me to this shed and make me this light, so I wouldn’t be scared. So I wouldn’t be afraid of the dark. He wouldn’t understand, but nobody, nobody, had done anything like this for me in years.

At this moment I was glad I didn’t talk to people. The clogging of my throat meant I wouldn’t get out the words even if I did. So I’d ‘spoken’ using the few pieces of sign language I thought he’d understand. He deserved my thank you in its purest, sincerest form.

I looked to Levi standing behind me. He was peering down at me, head lowered. His messy fair hair had fallen to shield his eyes and his hands hung at his sides.

Warmth spread within me as I watched this tall, well-built, beautiful boy standing so shyly beside me. I wondered what his life was like? The warmth within me cooled as a thought pushed into my mind: does he have a girlfriend? I pictured him at college, driving his fancy Jeep. He played football, he had money, and he looked nothing less than perfect. I was suddenly confident of the answer to my question: he would definitely have a girlfriend.

I shouldn’t be here with him, I told myself.

Gripping the jar tightly in my hands, I got to my feet. I headed to the door, keeping my head down as I passed Levi. He didn’t say anything as I reached the door. I needed to go, but I still felt more than a flicker of sadness, knowing that our impromptu meeting was over. I’d liked him talking to me. I’d liked watching him stumble shyly over his words. It warmed my heart.

I heard Levi mumbling something to himself, but it was just too quiet for me to make out. Suddenly, I felt him behind me and I froze in my tracks. I breathed in and out to steady myself, then turned to face him. His fists were clenching at his sides, and his was face rosy with a flush.

He held out his hand and, in his palm were several glow sticks. “To refill the jar every night.” I gently took the sticks and pushed them into the pocket of the hoodie. Levi’s head was kept down, his hands once again at his sides.

He caught me staring and slowly exhaled. “You wanna go.” He hadn’t asked me a question, he had assumed that’s what I wanted. Focusing on the light, still shining bright in the dark, I shrugged.

He stepped closer still. “It’s real late, but—”

He left the sentence hanging in the air, unfinished, but I was desperate to hear the rest. Levi rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and then blurted, “I’ll walk you to the kitchen door.”

Disappointment crushed me, but I walked out of the door into the cold night, gripping the glowing jar to my chest. As we walked to the kitchen door, I smiled down at the jar in my hand. It was bright against the darkness of the night. I wanted to tell Levi that I loved it, that I would cherish this gift because it was from his heart. It represented a kindness that had been lacking in my life.

But more, I wanted to listen to him tell me about his childhood, about catching fireflies in the woods behind his home. I needed to tell him that I wanted to see it too one day, I wanted to see this jar filled with lightning bugs, chasing the dark. But the urge to speak, the desperation to open my mouth and set the words free was held captive in my throat. Annabelle’s jibes threatened to come, and my mom’s warning rang through my head: They’ll laugh at you, baby girl. There isn’t a place for the likes of you and me in this world. We’re a joke. Never speak, protect your heart. Always hide your voice.