A Step Beyond the Stars

1 0 0
                                    

Saturday mornings were usually my favorite time. Everyone else in the house slept in or went out for their errands, and I could spend hours alone, buried in my books or online articles about space. It was quiet, comfortable, and, most importantly, uninterrupted. But today felt... different. I stood by my window, the light streaming in as I gazed at the street outside, thinking about something I'd read the night before about an exhibit opening at the town's science museum.

The idea of going alone was both thrilling and a little intimidating. I'd never actually done anything like this by myself, but a part of me wanted to see the new exhibit in person, touch the science behind the words and theories I read about. So, I did something unusual. I grabbed a sweater, my favorite pair of jeans, and put on the necklace Hiro had given me—a tiny star pendant he'd won from a fair, "so I could always keep a star close." Before I knew it, I was heading out the door.

The science museum was bustling with activity. As soon as I entered, I felt the thrill I usually reserved for reading an exciting new chapter or discovering something amazing about the stars. The air buzzed with energy, a mix of families, fellow science enthusiasts, and researchers showcasing their projects. There were interactive displays on physics, models of planets and stars, and, best of all, a huge room dedicated to the latest discoveries in astronomy.

I wandered from display to display, watching short documentaries, testing out simulations, and getting absorbed in discussions led by experts. For the first time, I wasn't just reading about the universe—I was experiencing it. There were other young science enthusiasts, too, and I couldn't help but feel a strange connection, like these were people who shared the same passion that kept me up at night.

One researcher was explaining the nature of supernovae to a small crowd, his enthusiasm contagious. I stood in the back, listening intently, my mind whirring with questions. I even worked up the nerve to ask one, and he smiled, surprised but impressed. "Good question! Not many people know that detail," he said, nodding approvingly. I could feel my face warm with pride. It was like I'd found a place where my knowledge was respected, even appreciated.

I was in my own world, absorbed in a holographic display of the Milky Way, when I heard laughter behind me that I recognized immediately. My heart sank. Turning around, I saw a group of my classmates entering the exhibit hall. There was Ayumi, Kaito, and a few others, chatting and pointing at different displays, completely oblivious to my presence.

For a moment, I froze, unsure of what to do. It wasn't that I didn't want to see them—Ayumi and Kaito had always been nice to me, even if I kept my distance. But here, in a place where I felt like I was finally just Reina, the girl who loved space, I didn't want to become "Space Girl" or "Ice Princess" again. My classmates' presence threatened to bring back all the old, awkward feelings I usually kept hidden.

But before I could slip away, Ayumi spotted me. Her eyes lit up, and she waved enthusiastically. "Reina! Hey, what are you doing here?"

I felt a strange mix of excitement and hesitation, but there was no hiding now. I walked over, offering a small wave. "Uh... just, you know, looking around."

Kaito grinned. "Of course you'd be here. This is like, your natural habitat, right?"

A couple of the others laughed, and I couldn't help but smile a little. Even if the comment felt a bit too on-the-nose, it wasn't meant in a mean way. They seemed genuinely interested.

"So, what's your favorite thing here?" Ayumi asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. "You probably understand all this way better than we do!"

I shrugged, trying to think of a simple answer. "The... the exhibit on black holes is pretty cool," I mumbled, suddenly feeling shy again. "They're like... giant cosmic mysteries, you know?"

Ayumi nodded eagerly, and before I knew it, we were standing together at the black hole exhibit, and I was explaining what I knew in a way I'd never done before. I told them about how black holes weren't actually "holes" but super-dense points in space with gravity so strong that not even light could escape. The more I talked, the more they listened, their expressions shifting from confusion to awe.

Kaito leaned closer, looking intrigued. "Wait, so you're saying black holes could, like, suck in a whole planet?"

"Well, technically, yes, if the planet got close enough. But black holes don't just roam around swallowing things randomly," I replied, surprising myself with how natural it felt to talk to them. "They're a part of space, but they don't have some evil mission. They're just... there."

We moved through other exhibits together, and as I answered more of their questions, I felt my usual guard slipping. I didn't feel as distant as I usually did. Ayumi was hanging onto every word, and Kaito had this look of total fascination. It was as if they saw me, the real me—not just the quiet, cold girl who sat in the back of class. It was strange but also... nice.

By the time we reached the end of the astronomy section, I realized how much time had passed. I'd spent hours with my classmates, talking about everything from constellations to life on other planets. Ayumi and Kaito even made some jokes, talking about what they'd name their "spaceships" if they ever went into space.

As we walked out, Ayumi looked at me, her eyes bright. "You know, Reina, you should totally be an astronaut one day. I bet you'd be amazing at it."

I chuckled softly, feeling a warmth I couldn't quite explain. "Maybe. I mean... I've thought about it."

Kaito gave me a thumbs-up. "Yeah, I could totally see it. 'Captain Reina, leading humanity into the stars!' Sounds pretty cool, right?"

I felt a smile tugging at my lips. "It... it doesn't sound too bad."

As I walked home that day, I felt lighter, like I was floating just a bit above the ground. It was strange, spending so much time with my classmates, and even stranger that I'd enjoyed it. For once, I hadn't felt like the "Space Girl" or the "Ice Princess"—just Reina, the girl who loved space and wasn't afraid to share that with others.

Maybe there was more to life than just hiding away in my room, keeping my dreams to myself. Maybe, just maybe, letting people in didn't have to mean losing focus.

A Lonely Child Of SpaceWhere stories live. Discover now