Chapter Text

Astro Novalite hated Sprout Seedly.

This wasn't a recent development.

It wasn't even a dramatic one.

It was simply a fact.

Like gravity.

Or math homework.

Or the fact that Mr. Fletcher's science classroom always smelled faintly like burnt popcorn.

Sprout Seedly was annoying.

Very annoying.

And unfortunately, he sat directly beside Astro in first period English.

"Move your arm."

Astro didn't look up from his book.

"No."

"It's on my desk."

"It's on the shared table."

"It's still touching my notebook."

Astro turned a page.

"What a tragedy."

Across the room, their teacher, Mrs. Bellamy, was writing vocabulary words on the board.

Sprout glared.

Astro ignored him.

This happened almost every morning.

By lunchtime, Astro's social battery was dead.

Not that he'd had much of one to begin with.

He slipped outside with his lunch and headed for the old oak tree near the back field.

His spot.

Quiet.

Peaceful.

No people.

Exactly how he liked it.

For approximately three minutes.

Then somebody sat beside him.

Hard enough to shake the roots.

Astro sighed.

"Go away."

"No."

Of course.

Sprout.

Astro didn't even bother looking.

"What do you want?"

"Cosmo says you're weird."

That got his attention.

Astro looked up.

"You came all the way over here to tell me that?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

Sprout shrugged.

"Thought you'd wanna know."

"Your best friend is very kind."

"He meant it affectionately."

"That somehow makes it worse."

A snort escaped Sprout.

Astro rolled his eyes.

After school finally ended, Astro started the walk home.

The neighborhood was quiet.

Mrs. Carter was planting flowers.

Old Mr. Henderson sat on his porch with his dog.

Kids rode bikes down the street.

Normal.

Predictable.

Safe.

Astro liked predictable.

He unlocked the front door.

"I'm home."

"Kitchen."

His mother's voice echoed through the house.

Astro dropped his backpack by the stairs.

The smell of tea drifted through the air.

Andromeda Novalite sat at the kitchen table surrounded by paperwork and half-finished notes.

She worked from home as a freelance editor.

Meaning there were always books somewhere.

Stacks on chairs.

Stacks on counters.

Stacks on the floor.

Astro was fairly certain a pile had become sentient last week.

"School?"

"Fine."

Andromeda raised an eyebrow.

"The real fine?"

"..."

"The fake fine."

Astro sat down.

"The fake fine."

"Sprout again?"

Astro froze.

His mother smirked.

"Oh, come on."

"I don't talk about him that much."

"You absolutely do."

"I do not."

"Astro."

"I don't."

"You've mentioned him four times this week."

"That doesn't count."

"That's actually exactly what counting is."

Astro groaned and dropped his forehead onto the table.

His mother laughed.

Across town, Sprout was having the same conversation.

Unfortunately.

"You talked about him again."

Sprout nearly dropped his fork.

"I did not."

"You did."

Cosmo sat across from him.

Sprout's family owned a small bakery downtown, and Cosmo practically lived there after school.

Flour dusted both boys' sleeves.

"You complain about Astro constantly," Cosmo said.

"Because he's annoying."

"Uh huh."

"He is."

"Sure."

"He thinks he's smarter than everyone."

"He's got straight A's."

"That's not the point."

Cosmo grinned.

"It kind of sounds like you pay a lot of attention to him."

Sprout pointed a wooden spoon at him.

"Don't start."

Cosmo looked entirely too pleased with himself.

That night, long after everyone else was asleep, Astro stared at his bedroom ceiling.

12:37 AM.

Then 1:14.

Then 1:53.

Sleep never came easily.

It never had.

Moonlight spilled across his room.

Books lined the shelves.

A small galaxy projector glowed faintly near his desk.

Everything was quiet.

Yet his mind wouldn't stop moving.

Homework.

Tomorrow's quiz.

The weird thing Sprout had said at lunch.

The way he always seemed to show up wherever Astro was.

Annoying.

Very annoying.

Astro rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.

Tomorrow was Friday.

Which meant another day of middle school.

Another day of pretending he wasn't exhausted.

And another day of Sprout Seedly.

For some reason, that thought kept him awake longer.

Bassie Seedly-Bloomington arrived home twenty minutes later with dirt on her knees and flower petals stuck in her hair.

Again.

The front door slammed.

"I'm home!"

No response.

Which wasn't unusual.

The bakery downstairs was still open.

Sprout was probably helping.

Their dad was probably helping.

Cosmo was definitely helping.

Bassie kicked off her shoes and headed upstairs.

The Seedly family's apartment sat above the bakery.

The entire place smelled like cinnamon.

And bread.

And occasionally burnt sugar when Sprout forgot something in the oven.

Bassie opened her bedroom door.

Plants.

Everywhere.

Hanging plants.

Potted plants.

Tiny succulents.

Flowers on the windowsill.

Flowers on shelves.

Flowers hanging from the ceiling.

There was barely room for Bassie herself.

Just the way she liked it.

"Hi, everyone."

The plants remained silent.

Bassie nodded.

"That's fair."

She dropped her backpack onto the floor.

Immediately, a small notebook tumbled out.

The cover read:

GARDENING CLUB PRESIDENT NOTES

Bassie hurried over and picked it up.

The gardening club meeting had gone well today.

Mostly.

Nobody had made fun of her presentation.

Nobody had laughed.

Nobody had stared.

Well.

Not much.

A tiny smile crossed her face.

Maybe she wasn't completely terrible at being club president.

Maybe.

Her smile vanished immediately.

Nope.

That sounded arrogant.

She was probably awful.

Everyone probably secretly hated the club.

And her.

And—

"No."

Bassie shook her head.

"No spiraling."

That was what her therapist called it.

Spiraling.

Thinking one bad thing and then accidentally inventing seventeen worse things.

Bassie took a deep breath.

Then another.

Better.

Slightly.

She walked toward the corner of her room where several plastic containers sat stacked neatly.

Immediately her mood improved.

Kandi supplies.

Hundreds of beads.

Letters.

Stars.

Flowers.

Tiny frogs.

Colorful elastic string.

Bassie sat cross-legged on the floor.

Today she decided on a bracelet.

Green.

Pink.

Yellow.

The colors reminded her of spring.

As she threaded beads onto the string, her thoughts drifted.

Gardening club.

School.

Sprout.

Astro.

Her brother complained about Astro constantly.

Which was weird.

Because Sprout normally ignored people he disliked.

Yet somehow Astro came up almost every day.

Bassie tied off the bracelet.

"Hm."

That was suspicious.

Very suspicious.

A knock sounded at her door.

Bassie jumped.

"Come in."

Sprout poked his head inside.

Flour covered his hoodie.

"Mom says dinner in twenty."

"Okay."

His eyes landed on the bracelet.

"New kandi?"

Bassie nodded.

"Pretty."

"Thank you."

A brief silence settled.

Then—

"...you talked about Astro again today, didn't you?"

Sprout immediately looked offended.

"What?"

"You did."

"I did not."

"You have that look."

"What look?"

"The Astro look."

"The WHAT?"

Bassie started laughing.

Sprout looked horrified.

"The fact you know what that means proves my point!"

"I DON'T HAVE AN ASTRO LOOK!"

Bassie's laughter somehow got worse.

Downstairs, someone dropped a tray.

Probably Cosmo.

Neither sibling paid attention.

Sprout crossed his arms.

"You and Cosmo are impossible."

"Uh huh."

"I'm serious."

"Uh huh."

Sprout pointed dramatically.

"You are both banned from speaking."

Bassie grinned.

"You'll talk about him tomorrow."

Sprout opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

"...goodnight, Bassie."

The door slammed.

Bassie's grin widened.

Oh.

Something was definitely going on there.

Meanwhile, across town, Astro was being judged.

Again.

"Don't look at me like that."

The snake continued looking at him.

Astro sighed.

"You literally escaped three times this week."

The snake remained completely unapologetic.

His name was Orion.

A Texas rat snake with beautiful black scales, bright curious eyes, and approximately three brain cells.

On a good day.

Andromeda claimed that was generous.

Astro was beginning to agree.

Orion's enclosure sat beside his desk, complete with climbing branches, hides, fake vines, and enough enrichment to satisfy any normal snake.

Unfortunately.

Orion was not normal.

Orion was currently hanging upside-down from a branch.

For absolutely no reason.

Astro stared.

The snake stared back.

"...how are you comfortable?"

Orion yawned.

Or whatever the snake equivalent of a yawn was.

Astro leaned back in his chair.

His homework sat unfinished beside him.

A math worksheet.

An English assignment.

Three pages of science notes.

All ignored.

Because Orion had somehow managed to get himself stuck inside a fake vine.

Again.

"You know," Astro said, standing up, "most snakes have survival instincts."

Orion attempted to climb higher.

Immediately slipped.

And landed directly into his water bowl.

SPLASH.

Astro covered his face.

"You are an embarrassment to your species."

The snake looked delighted.

A few minutes later, Astro carefully lifted the soaking reptile from the bowl.

Orion immediately wrapped himself around Astro's arm.

"You're lucky you're cute."

Orion flicked his tongue.

Astro considered that agreement.

He sat on his bed.

The snake slowly climbed onto his shoulders.

Then his head.

Then attempted to climb the wall.

Astro caught him before he could fall.

"Absolutely not."

The snake looked offended.

A knock sounded at the bedroom door.

"Come in."

Andromeda stepped inside carrying a mug.

Tea.

Of course.

Her gaze landed on Orion.

Specifically Orion dangling halfway off Astro's shoulder.

"...is he trying to escape again?"

"Yes."

"Through the ceiling?"

"Apparently."

Andromeda nodded thoughtfully.

"Reasonable."

"It really isn't."

"Maybe he yearns for the stars."

Astro groaned.

"Mom."

"You named him Orion."

"Mom."

"You literally named him after a constellation."

"Mom."

Andromeda laughed.

Orion chose that exact moment to slide directly into Astro's hoodie sleeve.

The room fell silent.

Both of them stared.

A muffled thump came from somewhere inside the hoodie.

Then another.

Then complete silence.

"..."

"..."

"Where did he go?" Andromeda asked.

"I genuinely don't know."

Several seconds passed.

Then Orion's head emerged from the neck hole.

Looking extremely pleased with himself.

Astro buried his face in his hands.

Andromeda was laughing too hard to stand.

Later that night, after homework was finished and Orion was safely returned to his enclosure, Astro lay in bed.

The room was dark except for the faint blue glow of a star projector.

Orion had already curled up inside his favorite hide.

Fast asleep.

Lucky.

Astro glanced at the clock.

11:42 PM.

Not terrible.

Maybe tonight would be easier.

Maybe he'd actually sleep.

His stomach gave a painful cramp.

Astro winced.

Great.

That too.

Slowly he curled onto his side and pulled his blanket closer.

Tomorrow would be fine.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

Across the room, Orion somehow managed to knock over a fake plant while asleep.

Astro stared at the ceiling.

"...how."

The snake offered no explanation.

The answer to Astro's question arrived approximately thirty seconds later.

In the form of a small child.

His bedroom door burst open.

"Astro!!"

Astro sat up so fast he nearly launched Orion across the room.

"STELLAR."

His eight-year-old sister ignored him completely.

Which was normal.

Stellar Novalite operated on forces beyond mortal comprehension.

Her hair, dark blue at the roots and fading into vibrant purple at the ends, bounced around her shoulders as she sprinted into the room. Tiny star-shaped clips glittered throughout the messy waves.

She launched herself onto Astro's bed.

Directly onto his legs.

"OW."

"Hi!"

"Hello."

"I made something."

"That's concerning."

Stellar gasped.

"Astro!"

"Sorry. Continue."

Immediately satisfied, Stellar reached into the pocket of her oversized hoodie.

And pulled out...

A drawing.

Several drawings.

Actually.

A whole stack of drawings.

Astro sighed.

"Of course."

Five minutes later.

Astro was trapped.

His little sister sat beside him explaining every single drawing in excruciating detail.

"And THIS one is Mr. Pickles."

The drawing appeared to depict a green potato with legs.

Astro nodded solemnly.

"Very distinguished."

"He eats meteors."

"Naturally."

"And this one is Princess Stardust."

A purple blob.

"Wonderful."

"And THIS one—"

Astro glanced toward Orion for help.

The snake was asleep.

Traitor.

Eventually Stellar noticed the enclosure.

More specifically—

She noticed Orion.

Immediately.

"ORION!"

The snake lifted his head.

Big mistake.

"ORIONNNNN!"

Before Astro could stop her, Stellar was crouched in front of the glass.

The snake slowly approached.

Curious.

Probably hoping for food.

"He likes me."

"He likes literally everyone."

"He likes me MOST."

"I don't think snakes rank friendships."

"He told me."

Astro stared.

"He what."

Stellar nodded confidently.

"He told me."

"With words."

"Yep."

"Interesting."

Andromeda's dramatic voice drifted down the hallway.

"Your sister speaks fluent snake."

"Mom, stop encouraging her."

"I WILL NEVER STOP."

A moment later Andromeda appeared in the doorway.

She took one look at her children.

One sitting on the floor talking to a snake.

The other lying on his bed questioning his life choices.

And smiled.

"There's my favorite children."

"You only have two."

"Exactly."

Stellar beamed.

Astro groaned.

Then Stellar tilted her head.

Studying him.

"Oh."

Astro immediately disliked that tone.

"What?"

"You don't feel good."

His stomach dropped.

Children were terrifying.

"No?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Astro looked at Andromeda.

Andromeda looked away.

Coward.

Stellar climbed onto the bed again.

Her expression softened.

"You look tired."

Astro blinked.

Of all the things she'd noticed—

That wasn't what he expected.

"I'm okay."

"Liar."

"Stellar."

"You stayed awake late again."

Astro froze.

The little gremlin pointed triumphantly.

"HA!"

"I walked right into that one."

"Yep."

For a moment, the room was quiet.

Then Stellar scooted closer and rested her head against his shoulder.

Just because.

Because she was eight.

Because she loved him.

Because sometimes children were far kinder than they realized.

Astro sighed.

Carefully wrapping an arm around her.

"You're lucky you're cute."

"I know."

"You say that every time."

"Because it's true."

Andromeda laughed from the doorway.

Orion immediately chose that exact moment to fall off his branch.

A loud thunk echoed through the enclosure.

Everyone turned.

The snake looked completely unharmed.

Just surprised.

Stellar pointed.

"Astro."

"What."

"I think your snake is broken."

"..."

"..."

"...yeah."

Wednesday afternoons were sacred.

Not because Astro liked Wednesdays.

He didn't.

Wednesdays meant leaving school early.

Wednesdays meant traffic.

Wednesdays meant appointments.

But most importantly—

Wednesdays were Stellar Days.

"Your water bottle."

"Got it."

"Your headphones."

"Got it."

"Your emergency crackers."

"Got it."

Andromeda smiled from the kitchen.

"You're a lifesaver, Astro."

Astro rolled his eyes.

Stellar bounced in place beside him.

Blue-and-purple hair clips jingling.

"I'm ready!"

"You've been ready for twenty minutes."

"I know!"

The clinic sat on the opposite side of town.

Small.

Warm.

Nothing like a hospital.

There were fish tanks in the waiting room.

Colorful paintings on the walls.

A basket of fidget toys near the front desk.

Stellar liked it.

Which was important.

Astro checked her in.

The receptionist smiled.

"Hi, Stellar."

"Hi, Ms. Renee."

"Love the stars in your hair."

"I have twelve today."

"Very impressive."

Stellar nodded seriously.

While waiting, Stellar sat beside Astro and sorted through a collection of plastic star charms she'd brought.

Her safe snack sat nearby.

The exact brand of crackers she'd eaten for months.

No surprises.

No changes.

Just crackers.

Astro was halfway through a book when the waiting room door opened.

And immediately ruined his afternoon.

"Oh."

"Oh."

Sprout Seedly froze.

Astro froze.

Both boys looked equally horrified.

"...What are you doing here?"

Sprout spoke first.

Astro narrowed his eyes.

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Well I asked first."

"That's not how conversations work."

"It is now."

A woman behind Sprout sighed.

"Sprout."

A tall woman with dark curls and tired eyes stepped forward.

His mother.

Mrs. Elena Seedly.

The owner of the bakery.

The woman who apparently knew every embarrassing story about her son.

Sprout looked mortified.

"Mom."

"Behave."

"I am behaving."

"You started arguing within six seconds."

"Five."

"Sprout."

Astro looked away before he accidentally laughed.

That would be disastrous.

Stellar peeked around Astro.

"Oh."

Sprout blinked.

A small girl stared back.

Hair full of stars.

Several charms hanging from her hoodie.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I'm Stellar."

"I'm Sprout."

"Your name is a vegetable."

Astro choked.

Mrs. Seedly covered her mouth.

Sprout looked deeply offended.

"My name is not a vegetable."

"It is."

"It's a plant."

"Vegetables are plants."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Astro looked down at his book.

Best conversation he'd heard all week.

Eventually Sprout sat across the room.

Unfortunately.

Which meant Astro could still see him.

And unfortunately—

Sprout kept looking over.

Not at Astro.

At Stellar.

Watching how Astro helped her organize her things.

How he reminded her about appointments.

How he quietly checked if she needed anything.

The way he automatically knew when she was getting overwhelmed.

Like he'd done it a thousand times.

Which he probably had.

A few minutes later, a counselor appeared.

"Sprout?"

Sprout stood.

Immediately grumpy.

"Come on."

His mother gave him a gentle nudge.

"You can survive one hour."

"Barely."

"You survived last week."

"Debatable."

Mrs. Seedly laughed.

Sprout groaned.

Then followed the counselor down the hallway.

Before disappearing around the corner, he glanced back.

Just once.

Astro was helping Stellar untangle a necklace she'd somehow tied into six knots.

Patient.

Calm.

Gentle.

Completely different from the sarcastic nightmare he dealt with at school.

For a second, Sprout felt something uncomfortable.

Something suspiciously close to guilt.

Because maybe—

Maybe there was more to Astro than being annoying.

Then Astro looked up.

Caught him staring.

And immediately frowned.

Sprout frowned back.

Never mind.

Still annoying.

The waiting room felt quieter after Sprout disappeared down the hallway.

Which was nice.

Astro preferred quiet.

Stellar, however, apparently did not.

"He's weird."

Astro looked up from his book.

"Who?"

"Sprout."

Astro snorted.

"Correct."

"I think he likes you."

Astro nearly dropped his book.

"What."

Stellar shrugged.

"The way Orion likes walls."

"That sentence made less than zero sense."

"It makes sense to me."

Astro feared that.

Ten minutes later, Stellar was called back for her appointment.

"Ready?" asked Ms. Carter.

Stellar nodded.

Then paused.

Then looked at Astro.

"You'll still be here?"

"Obviously."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Satisfied, Stellar followed the therapist.

The door clicked shut.

And suddenly Astro was alone.

Well.

Not alone.

Because five minutes later—

The counseling room door opened.

And Sprout emerged.

Looking annoyed.

As usual.

Their eyes met.

Immediately.

Unfortunately.

"Oh."

"Oh."

Sprout shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets.

Neither moved.

The waiting room suddenly felt much smaller.

"...How long are you here for?" Sprout asked.

Astro blinked.

That was surprisingly normal.

"Until Stellar's done."

"Oh."

A pause.

"How long are you here for?"

"Mom likes making me stay after."

Astro raised an eyebrow.

"For?"

Sprout immediately looked like he regretted speaking.

"A thing."

"What thing?"

"A thing."

"Very descriptive."

"Thank you."

Silence.

A fish bubbled in the aquarium.

Someone coughed in another room.

The receptionist typed something.

"...You don't seem angry."

The words escaped before Astro could stop them.

Sprout looked offended.

"I can be angry quietly."

"That's terrifying."

"It should be."

For some reason—

Sprout laughed.

A real laugh.

Not a sarcastic one.

Not a smug one.

Just a laugh.

And it startled both of them.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Don't tell anyone that happened."

Astro immediately said.

Sprout pointed.

"Same."

"Deal."

"Deal."

Another silence settled.

Less awkward this time.

Still weird.

But different.

Then Sprout glanced toward the hallway.

"You really come every week?"

Astro followed his gaze.

The therapy offices.

Stellar.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Someone has to drive her."

"You don't mind?"

Astro frowned.

"Why would I mind?"

Sprout shrugged.

"I don't know."

Astro looked away.

The answer felt obvious.

Because she was his sister.

Because she trusted him.

Because sometimes the world was loud and confusing and exhausting and he wanted to make it a little easier for her.

That wasn't a burden.

That was just love.

For a second, Sprout looked thoughtful.

Like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

And Astro hated puzzles.

Especially when he was the puzzle.

Before either could say anything else—

The hallway door burst open.

"ASTRO!"

Stellar.

Immediately.

At maximum volume.

Several people jumped.

Including Sprout.

Stellar sprinted across the room.

"Guess what!"

"What?"

"I got to talk about dragons."

"Congratulations."

"And space."

"Excellent."

"And dinosaurs."

"Wonderful."

"And frogs."

"Naturally."

Sprout watched the exchange.

Then looked at Astro.

Then at Stellar.

Then back at Astro.

A tiny smile tugged at his mouth.

"Your family's weird."

Astro stood.

Collecting his things.

"You're one to talk."

"Fair."

As the Novalites headed for the door, Stellar waved.

"Bye Vegetable Boy!"

"IT'S NOT A VEGETABLE!"

The entire waiting room heard him.

Including his mother.

Including the receptionist.

Including Ms. Carter.

Including Astro.

Who accidentally laughed.

Again.

For the second time that week.

And judging by Sprout's shocked expression—

That might've been the most surprising thing that happened all afternoon.