To Catch a Star (On Hold)

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Chapter One: What's with the sunglasses, Rory? It's midnight

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Estelle

I'm on top of the world.

This high above, people almost look like ants. The sky looks so close, I can touch the clouds with the tips of my fingers. But I'm on a tight rope, and my knees are starting to wobble. I can't hold on to anything- I don't have anything to hold on to because all that surrounds me is thin air.

Then I'm falling. I don't have time to panic because I'm falling fast to the ground before I find myself back to my bedroom again, jolting awake. The lights are on, they are always on. I never turn them off. Not because I'm afraid of the dark or anything, but I just like the lights to be on.

I rub my eyes, sitting up. It was just one of those nightmares again. Letting out a sigh, I check the alarm clock on my bedside table. Half-past twelve in the morning. I should try and go back to sleep again. I don't want my current sleeping routine to stick with school starting again next week.

But instead, my eyes land on the tubes of paints and brushes lying on the floor I forgot to clean up earlier. I don't think I'll fall asleep anytime soon so move to pick them up.

Crash!

My ears prick up from the noise outside my window. They seem like shushing sounds, following a muffled manly giggle. I put the paint brushes down and slide open my window to see four guys on the street. Even in the low light of the night, I could make out their faces.

Out on the street is basketball team captain, Lahey Mekito- his blonde hair covered in a cap. Jara, my classmate, talked about him almost all the time, and has even dragged me and my friends to watch one of the basketball games months ago. They moved away to Oregon this summer before she had a chance to confess her feelings.

There was Diego, towering over the others. His hand was clamped over Rory Redton's mouth, who I assume was the one hitting those poor trashcans. Rory must be super drunk that he is even wearing sunglasses at midnight, and swaying on his feet. I stifle a laugh.

And there was another much shorter, unidentified guy with them, scratching his head.

Diego removes his hand from Rory.

"Keep laughing!" Rory slurs suddenly. "No, no. I meant, keep going, stop laughing!"

He topples over Diego's stoic frame in hushed laughter. Diego shushes him to be quiet again.

"Not that anyone cares, but I'm playing the Mission Impossible theme song in my head right now." I hear a familiar voice and I look down just in time for a guy to swing over our neighbor's fence.

Only a couple of light bulbs lit up the Kavanaughs' yard. I couldn't see much, but his red Converse popped some color in his dark ensemble.

I want to call out what he was doing, climbing through someone else's lawn, when his eyes flickers up to me. He freezes in place. Now I can see his face better.

He doesn't know me, but I know him. Yesu Acosta, Troublemaker Since '00, as everyone dubs him which is a bit of a stretch, for me. And that was his band of Smoking Hot Misfits, as Jara calls them, there on the street. I'm not much for gossips about strangers, but I still hear things.

"T-uuuhh. . . Hello there." He leans on one of the outdoor chairs, attempting nonchalance. "Carry on. Nothing to see here. . ."

"This clearly doesn't look like nothing."

Normally, I would ignore their shenanigans in school, but he is trespassing over private property here.

A slow creak of a window interrupts us and we see Dorian Kavanaugh peak his head out of his younger brother's window. His room was on the other side of their house, it had no view there, only a dead end of cement walls. Yuri's room, adjacent to mine, faced the open lawn- perfect for what I think he's doing. Sneaking out.

Dorian throws something down from the window to Yesu who catches it with ease. I squint my eyes down to see a box. Is that a box of Saran wrap? What are they doing with cling wrap? My stomach twists, thinking of the possibilities of what they are up to now.

Dorian sticks his foot off the window ledge and climbs out, gripping the window frames. He noiselessly sides the window close.

From the corner of my vision, I see a figure creep out of the fence. The group of boys on the street silently cheer as Yesu climbs out.

I look around my room and grab the eraser on my desk. I throw it out, hitting Dorian in the shoulder. He whips his head to the side, before facing me up in surprise.

"Estelle," he says in a hushed voice. He was about to raise a hand up before realizing he was still holding the window. "We're just gonna do something real quick. I'll be right back."

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You'll get in trouble!" I hiss.

Dorian shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

"Do you wanna get an earful from your dad? You'll never see sunlight, you idiot."

Besides being neighbors, we had classes together and we get along well. His mom and my aunt went to the same college and she invites us over for dinner sometimes. We get along with his two other brothers, too.

They're all kind kids. Talkative, but they're great company that we almost don't run out of things to talk about. For the most part of last year, I would just nod my head eagerly or scribble madly on my dry-erase board for them to know where my head's at.

Dorian grunts as he carefully lowers himself. He swings down to the grass and stares up at me with pleading eyes.

"Dad can't know about this, okay?" He says in a hushed tone.

That was the other thing. Mr. Kavanaugh is a painted picture of a strict, scary Litigator in a grey suit and a briefcase who's even more overprotective than my aunt and uncle.

He has three kids, all boys. With that, you would think they are all free to do whatever they want like normal teenagers. But they have a curfew, and the lights are out by 10:00. Maybe an hour or two later if he's in a good mood, maybe.

He wasn't the most caring father to his kids either. From what Diether, the eldest of the three told me, he's usually at work or is cooped up in his office for the most parts of his day off. Diether just says their dad shows love and affection in his own ways. Or at least, that's what he tells himself.

They are boxed-in like Rapunzel in that tower.

I breathe out, nodding at Dorian. "You owe me big time." He's getting more trouble than it's worth hanging out with Yesu and these varsity guys.

He shoots me a smile. "Thanks, little mermaid." Dorian climbs out of their fence, struggling a bit, clearly not used to sneaking out. Rory slings his arm over his shoulder when he got on the street.

Dorian gives me a thumb up, then gestures blowing me kiss. I roll my eyes at him, all the while praying they don't do anything stupid that will get them to trouble.

Yesu pulls the group to a conversation. I lean further out into the windowsill, but I could only hear murmuring. The guys all bobbed their heads as if they realized something important. Diego makes eye contact with me and shoves a thumb in my direction.

They all turn to me.

The short guy with curly brown hair, much like Yesu's, digs through his backpack. They huddle over the short guy as he lets out a big notebook. I scratch my head.

Yesu holds up the notebook over his head for me to see. His scrawny gigantic handwriting says,

Do

He reads the confusion on my part because he flips it to the next page.

you

Flip.

have

Next page

A

Another flip.

hair

Flip. I don't mean to break the party they've got going on here, but I feel bad for all the pages he's wasting. . .

dryer

???