Steering the Stars Read Online Free PDF Page A

front door with one hand already on the doorknob and his toolbox in the other. He was wearing a plain white shirt with a red flannel shirt over it, dirty blue jeans, and his work boots. He must have a job today. That was, so far, the only bright spot in this very gloomy morning.
            I’d seen pictures of my dad from when he was in high school. Back in the day he looked just like Val Kilmer in all of his Top Gun glory. Sadly, these days the only thing he resembled was a broken man in grease-stained jeans.
            “What took you so long?” he said, looking down at the toolbox in his hands instead of up at me. He never looked me in the eyes any more. Even though it hurt, it wasn't hard to understand why he couldn't. With my mess of red curls, the dusting of freckles across my nose, and my pale green eyes, everyone said I looked just like my mom.
            “I couldn't decide what to wear,” I grumbled. I really wished it wasn't raining. The eight blocks on foot would probably be worth it just so that I could pop by Starbucks for a Pumpkin Spice Latte right now. Even when the world sucked all around me, I could always count on PSL to remind me that there were still bits of happiness out there.
            For the last two years, I’d ridden with Hannah and her brother. But this year, I'd be depending on my dad for rides until I could manage to buy myself a car. I’d piled on the babysitting jobs over the summer to save up and I was almost there. Just a dozen or so more nights of getting my hair pulled by the Rennert boys and I should have enough. It would probably only be enough to snag a junker but I wasn’t going to complain. I’d take anything.
            Before she left, Hannah had advised me to ask my father for help, but I wasn't about to go there. Dad couldn’t spare the couple hundred dollars I needed or handle an extra insurance payment. God, he could barely cover the bills as it was.
            He was a contractor who was scarcely able to stay afloat in work. And it had been that way ever since Mom died.
            Plus, the old Victorian house we lived in wasn't exactly cheap to maintain. Even to these standards , I thought as I looked around.
            Mom had had huge plans for this place… historic tours or maybe even a bed and breakfast that would one day be featured in a five-page spread in Architectural Digest. But, like everything else, the house and the dream had faded when she had. Now I just hoped that the walls and the roof would hold through the winter.
            “Well, c'mon before we're both late,” he muttered as he handed me an umbrella.
            “Thanks,” I said as I took the umbrella from him. I grabbed my bag from the hook in the hall and dragged my feet out the door. The world outside was cloaked in a grimy grey. I blamed Hannah for this too. As if it wasn’t enough that she had abandoned me, it truly seemed that my bright and sunshiny best friend had taken the sun and all of its warmth with her.  
            “Good morning, Mr. McKain,” a familiar voice rang out, surprising me. I looked up to see Henry, Hannah's older brother, walking up the sidewalk toward us holding a cup from Starbucks. Could it possibly be a delicious Pumpkin Spice Latte? My heart thumped with anticipation.
            Henry had on hoodie with Northside Buffalos written in red lettering across the front. The hood was pulled up, but his face still glistened with stray raindrops. He and Hannah had that weird sibling quality where they looked alike but not really. They both had light brown hair that faded to soft gold at the tips and wide-set eyes that seemed to shift between smoky blue and grey. Today Henry’s eyes seemed more grey than blue as though they were reflecting the dreary sky and my mood.
            “Caroline? Are you okay?”
            “I-I…What are you doing here?” I asked, secretly hoping that the coffee cup in his