STARS' DON'T GLOW ALONE

CHAPTER 1

The morning sun filtered through my bedroom window in thin, golden streaks, falling across the star chart taped to my wall. I traced the faint lines connecting the stars with my eyes, just like I had done a thousand times before, but today even Orion’s Belt felt blurry, like someone had smudged ink across the paper. I sat up slowly, a dull ache settling low in my stomach, and pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes until bright spots danced behind my lids.

For three days now, I had woken up with the same heavy, twisting feeling in my gut. It was not just nervousness, or the usual jitters before starting our final semester of Grade 12. It was something deeper, something that whispered warnings I did not want to hear.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up too fast. The world tilted violently. My hand shot out to grip the bedpost, my breath catching in my throat as cold sweat prickled along my spine. When the dizziness finally faded, I walked to the full-length mirror leaning against the corner of my room and studied my reflection. My skin looked paler than usual, dark circles bruised the skin under my eyes, and my long dark hair hung lank and unkempt over my shoulders.

You’re just tired, I told myself firmly. You stayed up too late finishing that physics project. You skipped breakfast yesterday. It’s nothing.

But my heart did not believe me. It thudded unevenly against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that matched the way my thoughts raced in circles.

Downstairs, the smell of garlic fried rice and longganisa drifted from the kitchen, but instead of making my stomach growl, it turned it over so sharply I had to clamp a hand over my mouth. I swallowed hard, forcing the nausea back down, and walked into the dining room.

“Good morning, Elara,” Mama said, setting a plate down across from Papa. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink again. Is that telescope project still keeping you up?”

I nodded, sliding into my chair and pushing a spoonful of rice around my plate. “Something like that.”

Papa looked up from his newspaper, his brow furrowing slightly. “Eat properly. You can’t afford to get sick now—exams are only two months away, and you need to keep your grades up for that scholarship you’ve been chasing.”

“I know, Pa,” I said softly. I lifted a piece of longganisa, but the rich, greasy scent hit me all at once. My throat tightened. I dropped the meat back onto my plate with a clink and stood up quickly. “I… I lost my appetite. I’ll just grab something on the way to school.”

Before either of them could ask more questions, I grabbed my bag and hurried out the door.

Gavin was already waiting by the gate, leaning against his old black motorcycle, scrolling through his phone. He looked up the moment he heard my footsteps, and that familiar, easy smile spread across his face—the one that used to make my knees go weak, the one that now only made my chest ache with confusion.

“Hey you,” he said, shoving his phone into his pocket and stepping toward me. “Took you long enough. I thought you’d locked yourself in your room with your stars again.”

He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing my cheek. Usually I would lean into his touch, but today I flinched involuntarily. The movement did not escape his notice. His smile faltered.

“Elara? Are you okay?”

I forced a smile, looping my arms around his neck and pressing my forehead against his shoulder. He smelled like fresh laundry and mint gum—the scent I had known my whole life, the scent that used to feel like home. “Just didn’t sleep well. That’s all.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. “Everything’s gonna be fine. We’ve got this semester locked down, then college, then… everything we planned, remember?”

I nodded against his shirt, but my throat felt too tight to speak. Everything we planned. Those words used to sound like a promise. Now they sounded like something fragile, something already beginning to c***k.

We rode to school in silence, Gavin’s arms wrapped securely around me as we wove through the morning traffic. I rested my cheek against his back, staring at the passing houses and trees, wondering how everything could look so normal when my own body felt like it was keeping a secret that could destroy us.

The day passed in a blur. I sat through four classes without hearing a single word our teachers said. When my best friend Mia waved a hand in front of my face during recess, I jumped so hard I nearly knocked over my water bottle.

“Earth to Elara!” she teased, but her eyes were full of concern. “Seriously, what is going on with you lately? You’ve been zoning out like crazy. And you look like you haven’t eaten in a week.”

I picked at the edge of my notebook, my nails digging into the paper. “I don’t know. I just… I feel weird. My stomach hurts, I get dizzy, and everything smells too strong.”

Mia went quiet. She leaned across the table, lowering her voice so no one else could hear. “Elara… when was your last period?”

The question hit me like a bucket of ice water. My mind went completely blank. I tried to count back the weeks, but my thoughts tangled together until I could not tell how much time had passed.

“I… I don’t remember,” I whispered. “I think… I think it’s been more than a month.”

Mia’s eyes widened. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Okay. Okay, don’t panic. Just… go to the drugstore after school. Buy a test. Find out for sure. Worrying won’t change anything until you know.”

Her words were sensible, logical, the exact things I should have been telling myself. But hearing them out loud made my knees buckle. I nodded slowly, but I could not bring myself to say anything else.

After school, I told Gavin I had to run an errand and would meet him later. I walked to the nearest pharmacy with my head down, keeping my face turned away from everyone I passed. When I reached the aisle with the pregnancy tests, I stood frozen for nearly ten minutes, staring at the neat rows of boxes like they contained snakes instead of answers. Finally, I grabbed the cheapest one, paid for it with trembling hands, and stuffed it deep inside my bag as if hiding it would make the problem disappear.

I did not go straight home. Instead, I walked to the old observatory on the edge of town—the place Gavin and I had come to since we were small, the place where we had first kissed, where we had mapped out every single one of our dreams. I sat on the same checkered blanket we always used, pulling my knees to my chest and staring up at the pale blue sky.

If Mia was right… if there really was a life growing inside me… what would happen to those dreams? What would happen to us?

I stayed there until the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the clouds in shades of pink and purple. When the first stars started to prick through the twilight, I stood up and brushed the grass from my skirt. I could not hide from this forever.

I waited until Mama and Papa had fallen asleep before slipping into the bathroom and locking the door. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, turning the small plastic box over and over in my hands until my fingers ached. Then I followed the instructions step by step, my breath catching with every movement.

I set the test on the sink counter and leaned my back against the wall, burying my face in my hands. The three minutes that followed felt longer than my entire life. I counted to sixty three times, my heart hammering so loudly I was terrified it would wake my parents down the hall.

When I finally looked up, my vision swam.

There were two lines.

Clear. Dark. Impossible to miss.

I did not scream. I did not cry. I just stared at those two lines until my eyes burned, until the edges of the world started to go gray around me. This was real. This was happening. There was a baby growing inside me—a baby made of Gavin and me.

Somewhere deep inside, a tiny spark of hope flickered. Gavin would be shocked, yes. Scared, definitely. But he loved me. He had promised to face everything with me. We would adjust our plans. We would work harder. We would make it work. We always had.

I waited until my hands stopped shaking enough to hold the test without dropping it, then slipped out of the house again. I ran all the way to Gavin’s place, stopping only when I reached his window. I tossed a small pebble against the glass, just like we had done since we were kids.

He pushed the window up a moment later, looking down at me with wide eyes. “Elara? What are you doing here? It’s almost midnight—”

“Come down,” I interrupted, my voice trembling. “Please. I need to talk to you. Now.”

He disappeared from the window. A minute later, the front door creaked open and he stepped out, pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders against the night breeze. “Is something wrong? Did something happen at home?”

I held out the test to him, my fingers wrapping tight around it until my knuckles turned white. “Look, Gavin. Just look.”

He took it slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion. Then his gaze dropped to the result, and all the color drained from his face. His hands started to shake so badly the plastic stick rattled. He stared at it for what felt like forever, his mouth opening and closing without a single sound coming out.

“Gavin?” I whispered, reaching for his arm. “Gavin, we’re going to be parents.”

He flinched away from my touch as if I had burned him. He looked up at me, and the warmth I had seen in his eyes my whole life was gone. In its place was only horror.

“Parents?” he repeated, his voice cracking. “Elara… this isn’t real. This can’t be real. We’re seventeen. We have scholarships waiting for us. We have plans. What the hell are we supposed to do with a baby?”

My heart cracked, slow and painful. “We’ll figure it out,” I said, tears finally spilling over. “We can work part-time. We can take extra classes. We’ll find a way—”

“There is no way!” he snapped, and the anger in his voice made me step back. “Everything is ruined! My dad will kill me. My mom will be heartbroken. And you—your dreams, my dreams—they’re all gone, just like that!”

He scrubbed both hands over his face, pacing back and forth across the grass. Then he stopped and looked at me, his expression hardening into something I barely recognized.

“There’s only one way to fix this,” he said quietly. “You have to get rid of it, Elara. Please. I’ll find the money. I’ll go with you. We can pretend nothing ever happened.”

Fix this. Get rid of it.

Those words echoed in my mind, bouncing off every memory I had of us. The boy who had shared his lunch with me, who had held me when I was scared, who had sworn he would never leave me—he was gone. Standing here now was someone else entirely.

I looked down at my stomach, still flat, still holding a secret that had just changed everything. And in that silence, I understood something I would never forget: Gavin loved the version of me that fit neatly into his perfect future. But when that future fell apart, he was already looking for the door.

I looked back up at him, and for the first time in my life, I did not look at him and see my whole world. I saw only the boy who was too afraid to stay.

“No,” I said. My voice was soft, but it did not shake. “I’m not getting rid of them. They’re not a mistake to be erased.”

Gavin stared at me, stunned. Then his shoulders slumped in defeat. He took a step back, and another, until there was more distance between us than there had ever been before.

“If you do this,” he said, each word sharp as broken glass, “then I can’t be part of it. I’m sorry, Elara. But I can’t ruin my life for something we weren’t ready for.”

He turned and walked back toward his house. He did not look over his shoulder. The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left standing alone in the dark, holding my future in one hand and the pieces of my heart in the other.

Somewhere overhead, the stars kept shining, bright and unchanging. I lifted my face to them, and for the first time, I did not look for constellations that belonged to two people. I looked for the strength to walk forward alone.