06. even the best and brightest of stars

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟔
" 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 "
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          There's a place lower than rock bottom, and I've plummeted smack right in the middle of it.

It's currently 11:29 at night, but I'm not sure what day it is. Time kind of merged in on itself while I stayed cooped up in my bedroom after my full-on exile. I'm trying hard not to dwell on the fact that I am now a has-been who has fallen off the star section. Operative word: trying. I've done nothing but mope and annoy my cats the past few days. 

How's that for not dwelling on my misery?

The Three Meowsketeers are currently in play mode; they're frisky and affectionate when they're like this. Especially Ara, the orange tabby one. They provide an adequate distraction from the suckiness of my life but I have to make the most of it, because in a snap, they can all turn back into little snobs and ignore me.

I throw a bell ball for Athos. He's the only one trained to play fetch. I'm dangling a feather wand for Porthos, and he's too strong. I feel like the wand is going to snap. Ara is fairly content with just curling up on my lap, kneading my thigh.

"At least you guys won't abandon me, right?" I baby talk.

In an instant, Ara stops kneading, jumps off my lap, and saunters off to her kitty condo. The boys, noticing their queen's absence, immediately decide that they no longer want to play either. They jump off my bed to join Ara.

I narrow my eyes at them. "You bastards."

If they're going to sleep, I may as well go, too. But then there's a sharp clink against my window. Followed by another. Then another.

I sit up and turn my ear towards the sound. The clinks stop, and are replaced by the call of a hooting owl. Except, it's so obvious that it's a person going, "Ca-caw! Ca-caw!"

My shoulders droop. I roll my eyes. This is the call of the great Mack-Mack bird.

I rush to the window, throw the curtains aside for the first time in days. So this is what the outside looks like. I've nearly forgotten. When my eyes adjust to the darkness of the night, I see Mack standing in our backyard holding a handful of pebbles he no doubt fished from my dad's koi pond. He points a gloved finger excitedly up the night sky.

Ah. The meteor shower.

I cast a scornful look at the Meowskeeters. "Well, if you won't distract me from my misery, at least Mack will."

Rushing over to my closet, I get a coat and a knitted scarf. Then I rush back, slide the window open, and prop my leg up on the pane. There's a gutter pipe near my window which I'm fairly confident will be my ticket to freedom.

"What are you doing?" Mack's sharp whisper cuts across the soft evening breeze.

"I don't want to ask Dad for permission, he'll call Mom. I'm sneaking out."

The gutter pipe is more slippery than I thought it would be. I've got my feet on both side, ankles clamping down on its diameter. The moment I transfer my arms from the window pane to the pipe, I realize my mistake.

Too late! 

I come sliding down the pipe like an untrained pole dancer. In a stroke of genius, I push off the wall just before I hit the ground. As a result, my ass lands on the stale snow with a solid thump. I'm really putting that 4.3 GPA to good use now, aren't I?

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