--She kissed the paper bag and planted Mimi in the hole. Then she covered her over and put the grass back in place. She sat down on the grass over the two of them. She saw how pretty the moon looked, falling low on the horizon. A big part of her wanted to curl up into the smallest, simplest possible existence and let the world rush around without her.

--She lay down. She curled up. And then she changed her mind.

--She was alive, and they were dead. She had to try to make her life big. As big as she could. She promised Bailey she would keep playing.

– –Ann Brashares

She didn't see him tomorrow.

She didn't see him the next day, or on Monday, a school day. She had covered for him during roll call, not knowing exactly where he was herself.

On Tuesday she had began to find herself breaking into a cold sweat when she found that no one had seen Phil or Pim around school. She would have rang at their doorstep, but she was much too scared if what she would find.

By the next week she had given up hope. They were gone, and they weren't coming back no matter how much she beat herself up about it.

She really couldn't sleep with the idea that her love had left plaguing her psyche. When she thought about it, there were two things that could have happened.

One, they had left for the future, and didn't tell her. That situation made Keely feel horrible, and she didn't want to think about it.

On the other hand, they had been worried about the government figuring out where they had came from and taking them away for testing. Maybe their suspicions were for a good reason. Maybe someone took them away. That made Keely shiver and squirm, and she only thought of it once until she pledged that she'd never think that thought again.

She had gotten worse and worse by each day. The first day knowing he was gone would always be the worst, however. That was the day she'd taken her mother's beer from the refrigerator and guzzled it down. Her mother was not an avid drinker, but she used it to loosen after a stressful day. Keely had thought it could work the same, but it had tasted horrible. Yet, after a while, she had begun to feel a bit calmer, and took another Heineken from the fridge.

Two weeks after the incident, Keely strolled outside to a dark grey night sky with a green-glass bottle in hand. She could care less if anyone saw her–goody two shoes no more, she would say. She ran into the Diffy's unlocked house and shut the door behind her. Looking around at the empty mocking picture frames on the walls and the unlit candles standing still in the foyer, she bit her tongue and glared at everything she was reminded of. She saw a vase on the floor, standing proud and erect, as if it was glad to be deserted. She stomped on it, and it shattered into millions of small, crystal pieces.

"Broken glass." She smiled smugly. "Now I'm not alone." She walked into the backyard. There lay Curtis's favorite rawhide chewies, the ones presented to him at Christmastime and lasted most of all year, which was surprising to anyone who knew Curtis at all. She picked one up and threw it over the fence, hearing a small clunk from the road afterwards.

Keely looked down at the grass. A little browned, and more crabgrass than usual, but overall looked like someone lived there. She lied her head to the lawn and recollected from the Friday night. As she rested on the grass, she saw her constellation. "Gemini." She whispered again, holding onto the bottle as if it were an imaginary pointing hand. From the outside, she heard the doorbell.

"Phil's family doesn't know anyone..." Keely said to herself. She walked to the door and opened it quickly.

"Yeah?" No need to be rude, her angel said. Yeah there is, said her demon.

"Erh..." A sweaty, pimply teenager stood with a box and a manila envelope. "Is this the Diffy residence?"

"Uh huh." She mumbled, nearly interested.

"Well, is Keely Teslow here?" He squeaked. She nodded, now insightful and careful again.

"This is her." She raised her eyebrows. The boy practically threw the packages at her along with a clipboard.

"Sign." He muttered. She whipped out a pen and signed her name at the bottom. "Thank you." He took it back. She caught him staring at her left hand.

"What?" Keely looked wary.

"Were you drinking?" He spoke softer than ever. Keely had forgotten about the bottle in her grip. It seemed to fit the mold of her hand–it was made for her. She was speechless, and the delivery boy knew that. "Have a nice day." He stuttered and ran out to the truck. The man driving looked back at Keely with one eye open. She didn't think he saw, and she didn't think he'd tell. She shut the door as they pulled off the curb and walked out to her special patch of crab grass. She loved packages, but she was concerned about the fact that it was delivered here for her. Who in their right mind would do that? She saved her box for another time, and she opened the manila envelope. Two papers fell out–she read the official looking one first.

Official Stargazing Committee

We proclaim that today, April 21st, 2006, under all laws of astronomer's code that the star that, on April 21st, 2006, the star that falls under 154 Degrees North and 67.5 Degrees East is officially registered as The Keely Teslow star.

Registered April 8th, 2006 by a Mr. Phil Diffy of Pickford, CA.

Keely's heart raced. Her heart trembled. "That's my star. I know it is."She could hardly utter because her throat was so dry. She glanced at the notebook sheet of paper. What kind of heartbreak could it lead to? She took a chance and opened it to Phil's messy, legible writing.

Keely,

I'm sorry for leaving.

I'm sorry for not telling you.

And I'm sorry for making you fall in love with me.

If you're reading this, you might be in my backyard on the grass. I may have interrupted your stargazing.

I hope you were actually at my house when you got this. Otherwise I would feel as if I didn't know you at all.

Tonight, you've recieved your lucky star. Actually, more than one. You've also gotten this. I sent this to the post office with a message to send this to you today. I figured a week from our leave would be too early.

I feel as though if I had told you if I had left, things would be much too awkward.

I hope you understand. I know you don't. But...this is not where me and my family came from. And we know it's not where we belong.

I know we'll see each other again. Maybe not physically, but maybe so. In other words, we'll find other people. Maybe we already know them. And we'll pledge our love to them, and we'll live happily knowing we're with someone we enjoy. Maybe. But only if we let it happen.

I want you to let it happen. I want you to keep playing. Promise me you'll keep playing.

We are in love. We'll always be in love. You can be in love with more than one person. It's been done. It'll be done again.

It's a coincidence that I landed in 21st Century Pickford. It's a coincidence we met each other. It's an odd coincidence that we fell in love the day before I left. For once, I didn't plan that. But we did, and that is a true coincidence. I interpret coincidences as little clues to our destinies, and this is ours.

This is not the end. There's never an end. This is the beginning.

The letter made her cry. It made Phil cry writing it, and sending it off. She knew it did. She knew her best friend.

She opened the box slowly, taking the tape off with a light hand. Inside, she saw, were a few shadowed items. Taking them out, she observed each piece.

A small blue plastic bowl parted in half, obviously for food and water.

A shallowlitter tray and a pound of kitty litter.

A box of Crunchy Munchy Kittie Yummies and three cans of wet cat food.

A bright, baby blue collar with a silver bell dangling from it.

And a picture of a small yellow-orange tabby kitten pawing at the camera, and a name under it. Starlet, it read. She flipped it around.

The kitten is ready to pick up at the Pickford Animal Shelter. He's been neutered and vaccinated. Just mention my name to the front desk and they'll give you Starlet.

Don't give up, Keely.

With that, Keely Teslow threw the beer bottle at the fence. As the remnants clattered across the wooden barrier and fell to the lawn, Keely could have sworn she had seen her star wink.

Across from it, a constellation laid in the sky. She was in his arms, he was holding her tight.

"Look at the stars, my darling. Pick one from the sky. I'll give you any star you want." The clutter of stars waved a hand to the sky. Keelyglancedtowardsit, not looking astonished at all.

"Good luck." She got up and went to the glass scattered across the piece of lawn. She picked up a handful of broken glass. They shimmered in the moonlight, looking like stars themselves. "I wish you strength." She whispered to the stars, and, with a breath, blew the glass shards into the breeze.