Under the Bridge by Rebecca Godfrey, Ellen R. Sasahara, Felicity Don Page B

at 9:12, Tara and Dimitri and Warren and Marissa, Jen and Syreeta, Kelly and Josephine, Chelsea, and Tenille and Richie D. and many others gathered for a party, would also look up, at the moment, look up to see the full moon and the rare and bright burning in the sky. Forever after, they would remember this evening, and as the police divers used the words “carefully floated” to perhaps add some poetry to the discovery of a dead girl in the Gorge, the students of Shoreline would, when speaking to police or judges, inadvertently title the evening as if to soften the horror of all that unfolded after the rocket’s fall. They would not say, “That was the night of the death,” nor would they say, “The night she got killed.” Instead, they would say, when speaking of that night, “That was the night of the Russian satellite.”

The Night of the Russian Satellite
    M ARISSA’s GOING TO meet us down at Shoreline,” Syreeta said to Tara as the two girls locked up Brady—s Fish and Chips and waited outside for Syreeta’s mother to arrive.
    Brady’s was spotless. Both girls were never lazy, nor did they want to leave Diana’s parents’ restaurant in less than perfect condition. It was a kind of respect. They liked knowing they could walk away and return the next morning, to take down the chairs and refill the ketchup bottles and cash in, with all in order and no disarray.
    â€œParty at Shoreline!” Tara said, imitating a tough boy, drawling her words.
    â€œParty!” Syreeta said, although she wasn’t in much of a mood. Sure, she liked to see her friends and walk around the field, and that night seemed as if it would be like all the others, with Warren’s arm around her and Diana making her laugh and Tara finding out some gossip she’d sworn not to tell about who all was hooking up in the bushes, and getting a little light-headed and swooning around on the moonlit grass. Yet Syreeta felt a sharp pang. She did not know Josephine or Kelly’s plan, and had never heard of an unmarked grave, and yet on that night, as they waited for her mother to arrive outside Brady’s, she felt a sudden pain in her stomach.
    Tara, pink cheeked and unharmed, was looking up at the sky.
    Syreeta looked up too, and saw the moon, immense and complete.
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    Someone screamed. Everyone seemed to scream around her. All Syreeta’s friends were looking up at the sky. The lights came quickly, burst out of the darkness, rapid and beautiful, red tumbling before turning to yellow, a bright red she’d never seen in the sky before. Thered slashed through the blackness, like a tear of silk, followed by a pale gold flame that dangled and disappeared, leaving the sky black again.
    Someone said it was a meteor shower. No, it was a satellite. It was from Russia. What was it? They didn’t know, only that they all watched it together, here and then gone, and Syreeta was glad she had seen it, with all her friends around. Before she left that night, they’d all seen the lights in the sky.
    Warren poured a little bit of vodka into a Macs cup filled with Coke. He watched Willow’s face as the thing fell through the sky. Willow was with her best friend, Maya, and she was sharing a mickey of vodka with Eve, the pretty girlfriend of Erik Cash. Everyone said Eve should be a model. She was tall and black and her cheekbones were so high. On the field there were only a few girls whom Warren did not know. He’d never seen Dusty before, and she seemed like a big and noisy presence. Kelly and Dusty were standing beside Josephine, and there was a fourth girl who Warren did not know—the fourth girl was Reena Virk. There were so many girls on the field that night. All of the Crips were up at Brandon’s house for his birthday party. Warren hadn’t gone because he wanted to spend the night with Syreeta. He was getting tired of