Circumstellar

Ugh. The only intelligent thought I could muster as the light poured in through the blinds onto my face. It was bright. Way too bright for six-thirty. I groaned louder upon realizing that, once again, I would be late for school. It almost made me regret throwing my alarm clock against the wall two months ago. I shoved the covers aside and managed to briefly open my eyes before snapping them shut.

Stupid sun. I wish someone would just turn you off, I growled as I brought my arm up to shield my eyes. I couldn’t really explain it, but it was always so painful looking at bright lights, the sun especially. It was my eternal nemesis. Photophobia, I had been told, was the name for my ailment. I suppose that made sense, but it didn’t exactly explain why I could read in the dark.

Like a cockroach, I scurried my way out of the light and over to the bathroom. I shut the door and flipped the light switch, bathing the room in a much softer, dimmer glow.

Much better, I whispered, turning to grab a towel before twisting the shower handle. When the water was warm enough, I jumped right in and began doing what was now my routine speed cleaning. After cleansing away the dirt and drowsiness from my body, I dried with the nearby towel and threw on my rumpled school uniform. Apparently being discarded on the floor does nothing for wrinkles. Satisfied I at least managed to put on most of the required articles that composed my uniform, I turned to the mirror to inspect my reflection.

It was the usual sight; my ragged, short blond hair hung limply, dripping onto the shoulders of my black blazer. Speaking of which . . . I tugged at the jacket attempting to straighten the many creases and wrinkles. I proceeded to try the same with the accompanying white blouse and black skirt, only to give up after losing a few short minutes’ war. Instead, I decided to fight another uphill battle and grabbed my brush from the countertop. As I yanked the bristles through my knotted hair, I caught myself studying my face, or rather, my eyes: my light purple glowing eyes.

They hardly surprised me. After all, I saw these eyes every time I glanced in a reflective surface. My family had also long since become accustomed to the soft glow, but that didn’t stop others from always asking, from always staring.

I shook myself from my revere, and having given up on my hair, finally decided to leave my safe, dark haven. I opened the door to my bedroom – my eyes acutely focused on the floor – and scooped up my backpack. I threw the bag onto my back, walked into the living room, and made the spectacular discovery of my last living relative curled on the floor.

You know, Auntie, I think they have programs for that, I said while going into the connected kitchen and opening the fridge. Don’t know why I bothered. As usual, it was empty save for a few beer bottles.

Huh? Oh, it’s you. Is it really morning already?

Yes, Auntie, it’s morning. Since you stay out so late, maybe next time you can wake me up for school before going to bed. I turned towards her to take in her appearance. If I was in a sorry state, Aunt Kaline was just pathetic. Her tossed dark brown hair and disheveled clothes made my own uniform look like a freshly pressed suit. Not to mention the stains. I couldn’t even tell if her tank top was once orange or green. Stretching and yawning, she sat up before finally fixing her light green eyes on mine.

You’re the one who threw the clock at the wall, she said, flipping her hair with an airy hum and waiting for a retort that was sure to come. Incidentally, I was so impressed she could keep up with our conversation, much less have the ability to remember that detail in her hung-over state, I couldn’t seem to form one. See, your aunt isn’t so clueless.

Apparently not, I muttered under my breath. Anyway, I’m late for school . . . again. Try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone. The scent of alcohol drifted through the air as I passed my aunt to the door. I might be a little late.

Oh, don’t worry, Aunt Kaline said, waving me off. I think I’m going to go through all those things in the attic. Maybe I’ll find some junk to sell. Yeah, I thought, for more booze.

I left my aunt to her own devices and began my walk to the local high school. Sunny and warm, it was what most people would consider a nice spring day. Me? I preferred rain and clouds. It gave me the option of looking up.

After a few minutes of being in the light, my eyes finally managed to make some adjustment to it, and I was able to look around at my surroundings. Dust Veil was a nice little town just the right distance away from a very big town – otherwise known as Knoxville, Tennessee. Trees aplenty, parks, and local businesses were just a few of the delights to be had. It really was a peaceful place to live, if a little boring. I suppose the town’s main attractions were the historic sites. There were plenty of old landmark buildings, museums, some nuclear plants here and there, and what appeared to be a few strange temples and shrines scattered about. Hell, there was even what looked like a weird pseudo-martial arts dojo on the outskirts of town. I passed a row of simple, nice little houses and made my way to the intersection that would lead to the old brick high school lost in thought.

Ingrid! My head snapped up and a wide grin broke onto my face. You are running late again.

Yeah, I know. Nice of you to wait for me, though, in light of your own tardiness, I said while running across the intersection – after looking both ways, of course – to greet my two best friends. Lesia stood with her hands on her hips, her brows lined with a slight furrow at my mention that she, too, was not going to make it on time. Lesia’s soft honey brown curls blew in the breeze as she patiently waited for me. Her face may have looked less than pleased, but her chocolate eyes betrayed her happiness at seeing me.

Come on, Lesia, you know Ingrid hasn’t made it to class on time for months. Problem throwing things at walls I hear, my other best friend piped in with amusement in his voice. I frowned at Ty ready to make some witty comeback, but my voice halted when I met his cobalt eyes. He truly was handsome with his cheerful, boyish expressions and dark auburn hair perfectly styled to look like he just rolled out of bed. I think it was styled. I settled for rolling my eyes as I quickly squashed the butterflies that were beginning to form in my stomach.

We had been friends since I first moved here six years ago when I was ten. It was incredible. I was just a little, lonely new kid, but within a week, the three of us had managed to find each other and form this bond. I don’t think I’d trade it for anything in the world. I was so glad I moved here, even if the circumstances were . . . that it was because she . . .

No. I viciously shoved my current thoughts to the back of my mind. Not now. Not today. I will not ruin this day by thinking about that. I was so determined to clear my mind I hadn’t realized I stopped walking and was trying to glare a hole in the cement.

Ingrid. Lesia’s soft voice came from beside me. Are you all right?

Of course. I was just thinking about how I’ll have to go visit our dear principal today and get another excuse.

Lesia sighed as she no doubt realized I wouldn’t be going alone on this little adventure. I’m buying you a new alarm clock.

No, come on. Don’t go wasting your money like that. Besides, it’s not like we’re the only ones who’re going to be on clean-up duty.

Speak for yourself, Ty said smugly. I happen to think Ursa looks rather lovely today and will be merciful to my cause. After all, it’s not my fault I got held up by two hormonal girls begging for my attention.

Yeah, right, I scoffed. And you haven’t seen Principal Dipper yet. How’d you know what she looks like?

Doesn’t matter. All I know is she’ll be glad to hear it.

How very charming of you. What makes you think it’ll work?

I’m walking in with a lovely lady on each arm. Something’s working for me.

Once again, I couldn’t help smiling at that. My happiness was short lived, however, as we came to the gates leading into the school yard. Here we go. I braced myself, and with resigned determination, my loyal companions and I entered the grounds that signaled the start of a long trek to the principal’s office.

Chapter 2

Ursa Major

Normally when a student was late, it was custom to at least go to class and try to convince the teacher to let it slide before being pointed down the hall of disappointment. As for me, well, I’d been late enough times now to just skip that first step and proceed right to the doom chamber. Why fight fate? And it seemed my friends accepted my expertise in the matter as they followed my lead unquestionably. We were journeying on our way down the currently deserted halls when we stumbled upon one of my favorite peers. Oh, I think they call that sarcasm.

"Well, well. Callahan, I didn’t expect to see you making your way to Ol’ Dipper this early. And Lesia, what a sweet surprise. If you need any help finding the way, I’d be happy to take you. You probably won’t have any trouble, though. Fahrenheit here’s a regular."

Fairheit, I hissed through clenched teeth. But thanks for the vote of confidence. It really means something coming from you, Becky. I’ll admit watching Caden Beck turn bright red while his eyes tried to sear my soul gave me more pleasure than it should have. I hated this guy all the way from his bleached mullet and beady eyes to his rotten personality. He was bully through and through, all right. To make matters worse, if he wasn’t handing out wedgies and swirlies to the unfortunate, he was making passes and lewd comments to Lesia. That’s what really burned me up about the guy. And that was why I put my fist into his face last fall.

I stood ready while his face contorted in anger. What did I tell you about calling me that? I’ll show you, stupid bitch!

All I saw at that moment was a flash of black, and my view of Becky was blocked. It took me a second to register that someone was standing in front of me. I didn’t have to ponder who for long. The hair was a dead giveaway.

Listen, you really need to learn some manners. Do you think it’s a good idea to talk to my friends that way? Ty’s voice was calm, but there was a dark seriousness to it that caught me off guard. It wasn’t totally threatening, but it wasn’t non-threatening, if that makes any sense. As I peeked around, it wasn’t hard to imagine why Becky had that shocked look on his face. Ty was the cheerful good guy everyone liked to hang around with. Some of his antics even managed to get the stony-faced teachers to crack a smile. But here in front of us now was a side of Ty I hadn’t seen in a long time. He was intimidating, and in the quickest flash he appeared, he vanished.

So, I think we can all agree that this matter is over and can continue on with our business, right guys? Ty turned and threw a smile over his shoulder.

Yeah, I gasped, remembering to breathe. Becky’s free to go on his miserable way. I expected another rage fueled dig, but Becky just nodded dumbly and started stumbling down the hall.

Whatever, Callahan. I, uh . . . better things . . . go, he stammered out, the look of shock still very clear on his face.

That was weird, I concluded as he lumbered around the corner. But thanks, Ty. You didn’t have to do that.

Yeah, I did. Like I said, nobody talks to my friends like that, he said, determined. But I sure hope Ursa’s in a good mood. We’re already missing first period. Oh, English, how I regret not being there with you. Now I’ll never become a writer thanks to Ingrid’s throwing arm, he finished with a flare that would make any drama queen proud.

Oh, it really is getting late. We should hurry before we miss too much, Lesia added, grabbing our arms and speed walking down the hall. I actually felt kind of bad. This was the first time Lesia was going to get into trouble for being tardy. Or for anything, really.

Sorry, guys, I sighed.

Don’t worry about it. We’re friends, after all. That’s why I said I’m going to buy you a new clock, Lesia replied, a sly twinkle in her eyes. That way you can be a friend and help me out by not dragging me down.

Good one, Lesia! Ty chuckled. Although it was a direct jab at me, even I had to laugh a little. Lesia joined in, and soon we were the merriest bunch that ever made its way to Ursa’s lair, brief as it may have been. The office door loomed in front of us like a steel trap. We straightened ourselves out – putting on our most serious faces – and entered.

Morning, Tania. How’re the kids? I asked, throwing a grin to the secretary and receiving a pointed look in return. She raised an eyebrow, directing her pen to the principal’s door. And here I thought we had really gotten to know each other over these past seven weeks. We came up to the door, the words Principal Ursa Dipper printed in bright gold letters across the top half. I didn’t waste any time in knocking and waited for the muffled come in before, you guessed it, going in.

Ah, Miss Fairheit, I was beginning to wonder if you fell ill this morning. You’re a little later than usual, Principal Dipper stated, and you’ve brought friends, too. Miss Delaney. Mr. Callahan. She nodded to each of us as she spoke. Used to the routine by now, I went ahead and took a seat in front of the desk. When I noticed my companions standing awkwardly by the door, I waved them over. After a moment’s hesitation and a quick look at Principal Dipper, who once again nodded, Ty and Lesia finally walked over and took the two chairs beside me. I wondered if she often got troublemakers in sets of three, or perhaps, a lot of meetings with parents and their wayward kids, which would explain why she had the odd number across from her desk.

Once we were seated, she fixed her framed gaze on us, and if anything, the thick lenses only intensified the effect. Her thinning gray hair was pulled into a tight bun held by a band of navy beads that perfectly matched her fine business suit. According to legend, she’d been principal long enough to know most of students’ grandparents, and it showed in her lined and withered face. Those passing her on the street might mistake her for someone’s kind old grandma, but her eyes told another story. She was a sharp old bird, I’d give her that. Stern, but fair. I could see it clearly in those stone gray irises: experience, awareness, and even a little compassion from time to time. My eyes were always the first thing anyone ever noticed about me, so it only made sense it was the first thing I looked at on another person. Principal Dipper’s eyes didn’t lie. She was exactly who she displayed herself as. That’s why I respected her so much.

I figured the usual routine was beginning to get old, so I decided to mix it up a bit. You know, keep you on your toes, I said with a small smile. You’d think I was doing her a big favor.

Indeed. Well, as much as I appreciate your efforts to keep me mentally stimulated, I’m afraid that being tardy without an excuse is still against school policy. Once again, you’ll be cleaning the science lab after class. At least you have help today. Any other comments, Miss Fairheit? She looked at me expectantly before I shook my head in the negative.

Principal Dipper, I want to start out by saying how simply marvelous you look today, Ty chipped in. A last ditch effort to avoid punishment no doubt. Very, uh, crisp and businesslike.

Thank you, Mr. Callahan. I do strive to set an example, although, Principal Dipper began, taking in Ty’s and my appearances, some of you could use a little more practice with an iron.

It was true. Ty’s clothes looked like they had been wadded in the same small, dark space as mine, but he actually remembered the tie. Looking at Lesia, I saw her uniform was as perfect and pressed as Principal Dipper’s suit. It made for a stark contrast between us. Then again, Ty and I didn’t have mothers to do our laundry for us.

Ty let out an awkward laugh. Ha, yes, I know. I’m still working on it. But my dad’s always in a rush, you know, and he, uh, accidently grabbed my keys on his way out. I didn’t want to leave the house unlocked, so I called him and waited for him to, um, send them.

I raised an eyebrow at Ty’s explanation. So much for the hormonal girls excuse. I didn’t doubt the story was true, actually. I knew he didn’t like to talk about his home life, and this was far from the