June 5. Too much light pollution to see anything but Sirius A.

A star went missing yesterday. It was in a galaxy seventy-five million light-years away, and definitely memorable—giant, hot, and crystal blue. Scientists have been watching it for decades now, but recently someone went to look for it and it had vanished.

But giant stars don’t quietly vanish. They explode themselves into massive supernovas that outshine everything around them until they collapse into a black hole. The bigger the star, the bigger the show. No one would have missed this one exploding.

There are some theories—maybe it dimmed slowly and then some space dust hid it from view? Or maybe it wasn’t a star at all but light coming from another supernova? I can’t stop thinking about it. Stars this big and bright don’t simply disappear.

That was the last time I saw her. After years of incarcerations and rehabs and homelessness, she suddenly went dark, vanished into the atmosphere without a trace. But that’s not how giant stars work, and unlike the crystal-blue star, she left instructions. Remember, baby, we belong together. It will all work out for us. Keep watching for the signs; they’ll come in threes. That’s the thing I hang on to. One day we’ll be back together and my life will make sense again.

Until then, I keep my eyes on the stars.

– 1 – Willow

I don’t mean to be dramatic, but me floating facedown on a half-deflated pool float shaped like a piece of pizza feels like an apt representation of my current mental state.

Dramatic? Unmoored? A tiny bit ridiculous?

Yes, yes, and definitely yes.

I roll over onto my back—an act that takes considerable effort due to the deflated-pizza situation—and stare up into the sunshine. LA is not cooperating with this moment of angst. If anything, it’s more beautiful than normal. The sky is almost hyperpigmented blue, and my mom’s new fountain bubbles cheerfully from the lawn. I can hear her speaking to her team through the open window, and her voice is its usual calm timbre, which is one of her superpowers. Mary Haverford never breaks under pressure.

Except for last night? Our conversation had definitely cracked her otherwise impenetrable surface, and I’m still trying to figure out why.

It had all been going so well. I had my entire speech prepared. Even Bea said it was flawless. All I had to do was explain to my mom the many reasons why it would be a great idea to move in with Bea to complete my senior year at the international school where her dad teaches film part-time. The reasons were as follows: cultural experience, relatively affordable (because I have a built-in host family plus a tuition discount from Bea’s dad, it would actually cost less than my LA prep school), time with family, and an interesting experience to write about in college essays.