From: Lost To: The Universe

124.5976

You, without a doubt, are the most useless excuse for a human being I've ever encountered."

"Don't be a sore loser."

My character on screen reloads after I take a particularly skillful shot at Sean's, scooping his character's head clean off in a spray of red mist. Sean flips me the bird and tosses his controller down on my bed before flopping down on my pillow and thumbing through the Skylander volume that's been sitting on my nightstand.

"We should go out and do something," He says after hardly a moment's pause, setting the book back down and snatching up a model of the moon encased in glass. Sean was the kind of person who talked slightly too fast and couldn't sit still for more than half a second before getting bored. He was always wanting to "go do something." The problem with August in Sunview, however, was that the heat made it impossible to do anything that didn't involve chlorinated water or air conditioning.

"What would we even do?" I gather up his discarded controller and return it to the drawer under my small television along with my own. Although basically a genius on paper, Sean is often completely incapable of cleaning up after himself, a fact that he knows irritates me to no end. Sean is also the kind of person who seems completely unirritated by anything, to my further irritation. He and I are functionally polar opposites, which makes me appreciate our friendship more.

"Melissa said she and Julie are going to the mall. We should go with them."

My disdain at the idea must be immediately evident because Sean rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on, dude. Julie isn't that bad. What she lacks in the, ahem 'gray matter department', she certainly makes up for in the ass department." He wiggles his eyebrows at me, ever the tactful charmer.

"I don't know. I don't really feel like it." My gaze wanders to a poster on my wall of the historical timeline of significant astronomical discoveries dating back to the earliest Babylonian star catalogs of 1200 BC; I'm only pretending to read, though, because I've had the whole thing memorized since middle school and can pretty much list them all by heart.

Discovery of the celestial sphere - Ancient Greece.

Discovery of planetary motion - 1543

Discovery of moons of Jupiter - 1610

Discovery of phases of Venus - 1610

Discovery of the nebulae - 1764

Discovery of Uranus - 1781

Discovery of Neptune - 1846

Discovery of Pluto - 1930

Discovery of cosmic background radiation - 1964

Discovery of exoplanets - 1990-present

The list is far from comprehensive, but one can only expect so much from a three-dollar poster from the middle-school book catalog. I can't help but glance at the unopened envelope from Mesa Grande University lying like a poisonous viper on my desk and an unhelpful pang of anxiety does a few turns before settling itself in my stomach like a contented feline.

"Still haven't opened it?" Sean's eyes follow my gaze and he deftly snatches the letter off the desk and holds it up to the window, like he's examining a hundred-dollar bill for authenticity. He casts me a sidelong look, examining my expression for any sign of weakness. "Want me to do it?"

"Give me that." I roll my eyes and reach over his head to snatch it away. I'm at least six inches taller than him but I'm about as athletic as an overripe banana. Sean tucks the envelope like a football and deftly spins out of my way, nearly swiping my plastic Saturn V model off a shelf in the process. "Sean!"