MY SHOOTING STAR

Chapter Four

[FLASHBACK]

A petite teenage girl was perched at a bench, with an electronical device in hand that allowed her to listen to music. She rocked her head slightly to the songs playing, not caring how the strands of her dark hair brushed her soft, honey-toned skin. She waved at particular students she had known as they passed by.

School had yet to start that morning, and she had little time left to enjoy a moment to herself before she too came striding into class.

The sky illuminated a bright hue of blues and yellows with no clouds in sight, an indication of a soft and a pleasanter day most people preferred to enjoy. As if to flatter each other, the wind danced with the Chilean flag so effortlessly at the highest peak of the school building. A flag that symbolized progression and honor.

But that only enticed her for a moment. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she recognized a boy her age walking up to the entrance of the building. Her brown eyes twinkled like the stars in the sky as she waved excitedly for him to come over. "Luca! You're finally here! I was wondering when you were going to show up!"

I waved back and smiled. "Hi, Estella. What are you up to? You know, school's about to start," I said as I sat next to her on the bench.

"I know, but listen to this!" She pulled a bud out of her ear and plugged it into one of mine.

It wasn't but a few seconds that I retreated the bud and gave her a bewildered look. "It's American. I thought you were into French."

"That was just a fling! Just listen to it!" She begged.

When her delicate hands wrapped around my forearm, the hairs on my body jerked up. The sensation of her touch was so striking that I almost dropped the earbud in my hand. My lip made a slight curl upward.

As I continued to listen to the song, we gradually locked eyes. She looked away and partially smiled in admiration. It hadn't dawned on me until now how lucky I was to be best friends to the most beautiful girl in school.

We came to know each other months prior in Cultural Studies class, and it was only by sheer luck. Ms. Francesca placed us together as partners for a class project when the girl assigned with Estella got sick and was not able to participate. Thank the lucky stars that I had something Estella was interested in: my drawings. If I hadn't, I was afraid that she would have begged to change partners because of how different I was.

But that wasn't the case. She was actually thrilled that I partnered up with her, which surprised me. She explained truthfully that she would have been so uncomfortable with guys in class who itched to get near her. I imagined their crotches bulging and hardening, and their mouths drenched with saliva.

In the end, we helped each other more ways than one that day. I was her deterrent, and she became my friend, which included having fun together. At first, I thought she was superficial, but it turned out she was kind, funny, and firm when she needed to be. She took risks that demonstrated characteristics of a leader.

I, on the other hand, was cautious about everything and kept to myself most of the time. It wasn't until I've learned from her that it was okay to be different and that my drawings represented who I really was as a person--talented, creative, and authentic. With Estella's outgoing personality and my drawings, we had an outstanding presentation and a passing grade.

We developed this special bond that I dared not be selfish about and sabotage it as much as I desired to. She expressed to me once before that she wasn't interested in courting. If I broke the agreement of our friend code, I would lose her forever. And I, as her best friend, would honor her wishes as long as it permitted me.

"So, what do you think?" asked Estella when the song was over.

I snapped out of my thoughts and planted the bud back into her hands. "I think it was good. It reminded me of you. Was that your intention?"

"Well no. But it spoke to me! The artist expressed herself through her voice. Just like you, Luca, with your drawings! I also want to be a girl who finds herself. I want to find out who I'm supposed to be."

"But you're celebrated all throughout the school. Everyone adores you," I told her. "You're already pretty, popular, and prestigious."

"The three P's I detest with a passion! Don't ever speak those words again," she warned. "They're cringy coming from you."

"Passionate," I added. "Should that be the fourth P?" She swung at me with one of her school books, but I dodged the attack, printing a grin on my face.

In truth, our realities were completely different.

My family was poor and certainly needed a recovery of finances. Nana and I barely got by from my mother's support checks that were sent in every month. To me, those were pity checks and I cared less about those as much as her other gifts she sent. I still had them stashed in my closet--all seven of them unopened. They were reminders of every year she missed. But I couldn't deny that the support helped with food and clothes. Nana called it a blessing in disguise. But what truly was a blessing was that Nana inherited the house, otherwise we would have been homeless.

Estella lived in a large house, immaculate just like her outerwear--a pressed pink polo tucked inside a silky smooth, brown skirt, and long, white aneco socks. She was wanting for nothing, which made me envious sometimes. She stayed washed and kept herself in perfect condition. That was expected from a prestigious family of strict parents, with high standards and demands. Those kinds of parents had in result, snobby children who thought owned the place because of their reputation, and wealth--rather, their parents' wealth.

But Estella never came to be like that in school. She treated everyone the same, sought justice for those who couldn't defend themselves, and ultimately, she truly was the best friend anyone wished they had. That was why she was well-respected at school. But there begged the question of why she attended a public school instead of a private one...she surely could have afforded it.

We giggled, enjoying each other's company, until we heard the first bell ring a few moments later.

"With all jokes aside," Estella said, gathering her stuff for class, "I will find myself, Luca, and when I do, I want your full support."

"There's no need to ask," I implied. "That's what best friends are for."

"Oh, Luca! You're the best!" She squealed with glee.

Little did I know that the declaration I made was the beginning of something that would put a strain in our relationship.