“Good to hear.”

The next phase of the plan was simple: meet at the library at midnight. Except for the very obvious facts that I shared a bedroom, it was on the second floor, and Obi was the world’s lightest sleeper, of course.

My family came home late that evening. The sky was clear and I had been up in the attic, still looking for Scorpius. As usual, everyone was exhausted, but maybe a little happy, too. Mom and Dad were, at least. Jade seemed ticked off.

“Who peed in your Cocoa Puffs?” I asked her when she slammed our bedroom door.

“Shut up,” she said. “I just spent, like, all day talking about my feelings. I need to take a shower or something. Get all the sap-crap off of me.”

“I don’t know why you even went,” I said.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go,” she said. “Saint Abby didn’t want to do exactly what Mom asked her?”

I glared at her and rolled over. Hopefully, she’d fall asleep early. Obi may wake up at the drop of a hat, but Jade could usually sleep through just about anything.

“It wasn’t so bad,” she said from her bed, staring up at her ceiling. “I mean. I told Blair what I thought. About how messed up she had been last year. And how I wanted her to be okay before she came home.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop, stop, stop. I wanted to hear everything and nothing at the same time. I wanted every detail and total silence. I wanted Blair to be perfect and Blair to not exist. I wanted a crack to open up in the Earth, swallow me whole, and spit me back up into the stars. I wanted to ride a rocket to the moon and start a colony there where Anna Rexia could never find me.

“Maybe next time you’ll come. Or not. Whatever. She’s coming home in nine days; did you know that?” said Jade.

Nine days. Nine days until Blair would be back, counting calories and causing Mom to get worried eyes. The mood in the house would return to being a thunderstorm. Dr. Leo Lacamoire and his Star-Gazer Twelve would be headed to Massachusetts.

“I’m tired,” I said, reaching over and turning out my light. “Let’s go to sleep.”

While I waited for Jade to start snoring, I thought about the time capsule. All those memories, stuffed in one place. What would I put in my own time capsule?

The first draft of Planet Pirates.

Dolphy, my creatively named stuffed dolphin that I still slept with every night.

Honey Nut Cheerios, which I ate for breakfast every single morning.

One of Obi’s chew toys.

Maybe some pictures, too. Of Obi when he was a puppy and we brought him home from the pound looking like a fluffy little snowball. My mom in her garden with those crazy polka-dot gloves she loved. The one of the five of us picking out a Christmas tree that my mom kept in the office. I had on such a puffy coat you couldn’t even see my face, but my sisters looked so happy. Pictures are kind of like stars. When you see a star, you’re really glimpsing light from something that died, like, a bajillion years ago. But the glow is still there, even if the star isn’t.