Walking over, the sight greeted me: the girls, nestled comfortably in my car, engaged in animated conversation. My attention was then drawn to the subtle chime of my phone, a familiar sound amidst the bustling noise of traffic. I reached into my pocket, fingers fumbling with the weight of the items in my hand. Retrieving the device, I glanced at the screen, where an image accompanied by a message from my mother awaited.

In the photograph, her thick brown curls cascaded around her face, framing her features in a soft embrace. Her smile, radiant and genuine, seemed to breathe life into the pixels. It was a smile I hadn't seen in a long time.

Another notification buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Won't be home in time to get Tio today. I got to stay overnight. There's an overflow at the emergency center of the hospital so they need to use part of the hospice section for incoming patients."

Another message followed, punctuated by an achy emoji face, a digital wince that conveyed the weight of the situation.

"Its so crazy today", she laminated.

My heart sank as I absorbed the implications. "Shit," I muttered under my breath, fingers moving swiftly to compose a response.

"I got to work tomorrow morning, Lee called out, again." I typed, the words tapping out in a blur of urgency.

It was the second time in a row, Lee failed to respond to our boss's calls, leaving me to cover for her absence. I couldn't fathom the reason behind her sudden unreliability. She was well aware of me watching over my little brother. Her not showing up meant double the workload, and no doubt would invite a stern earful when our paths next crossed.

Balancing the weight of assignments and the demands of two jobs grew increasingly burdensome with each passing day. As graduation loomed on the horizon, the inevitability of prioritizing work over further education became glaringly apparent. Though I had yet to broach the subject with my mother, the truth lingered unspoken: college held no place in my future plans.

The thought of abandoning my family when they need me most pressed heavy against my heart.

Glancing back at the screen, I watched as the familiar three dots danced across the display, signaling my mother's reply. Another ping resonated through the silence, heralding her response.

"I won't be home until later in the day, I'll text Monica and see if she can watch Tio for you. I'm sure she won't mind."

Relief washed over me at the mention of our neighbor Monica who lived up on level fifteen. She had always been a beacon of support in times of need. Without her, I wasn't sure how we would manage.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket, the cool metal a reassuring presence against my skin.

"Did you get them?" Kara's voice floated from the back seat, merging with Becky's expectant gaze.

I hadn't even had the chance to shut my door when Kara leaned forward, her arm outstretched in anticipation.

"Sit back down, dummy," I murmured, my voice a hushed warning. "Jimmy's on high alert." With a sigh, I brushed the side swept curtain of hair that veiled my coco-colored eye before igniting the engine.

Kara swiftly retreated, muttering a curse under her breath as she settled back into her seat. My eyes flickered to the store window where he had spotted them, scanning for any sign of Jimmy's presence.

When he failed to materialize, I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, relief washing over me in a wave.

Finally, with hawk-like vigilance now behind us, I tossed the pack of cigarettes into the back seat for Miss Ansy Pants. "You almost got me caught," I chided, my tone tinged with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Sorry, girl," Kara replied sheepishly, her fingers already tearing at the plastic packaging. "Haven't had a smoke in a few days."

The crisp scent of tobacco mingled with mint wafted through the car assaulting my senses. Instinctively, I recoiled, the sharp tang of mint triggering an involuntary grimace.

"Jimmy won't do anything, he's all talk." Becky interjected, her voice laced with a casual confidence as she took a drag herself from Karas already lit one. offering her perspective on the matter. The tips of her pixy blonde hair, now in a shade baby blue than last weeks bright pink, made her aqua color eyes brighter.

With just five cigarettes remaining in my pack, each stick felt like a treasure to be savored over the next days or so. Despite the familiarity of the comforting scent that clung to them, the anticipation of lighting up brought a rush of relief as I sought solace in the familiar ritual.

At a stoplight, my hand delved into the depths of my purse, fingers grazing against the slender shape of a cigarette. Drawing it out, I brough it to my lips along with my lighter, a known gesture that promised a momentary reprieve from the chaos of the sunlit hours.

As the tip glowed amber under the flame, wisps of smoke curled upwards, a silent dance that whispered release and respite. With each inhalation, the smoke unfurled like a soft velvety embrace filling my lungs with a warmth that spread through me, soothing the jagged edges of my nerves.

Exhaling slowly. I blew the smoke through the crack of the open window, watching it vanish into the air like a fleeting dream.

Turning to Sammy beside me, I offered her the cigarette knowing she shared my love for the simple pleasure it brought. Without hesitation, she accepted, sucking in a deep breath before passing it back to me.

As I took it from her, I couldn't help but notice the faint impression of her cherry-colored lip glass that lingered on the tip, a subtle reminder of our shared bond.

We'd been best friends since kindergarten, practically sisters in all but blood. What one lacked, the other readily provided. She was my ride or die, my constant companion through life's ups and downs.

"If she did get caught, Camila would have to drive across town to that corner liquor store," Sammy continued, her voice coated with annoyance as she shot Becky a pointed look. "And that one is just as bad as the one we have here." With a turn of her head, she redirected her gaze forward, her expression a silent warning that spoke volumes of her displeasure. If looks could kill, Sammy's would have been lethal.

Her pin-straight hair, a lustrous of dark brown, danced effortlessly as she moved. Each strand catching specks of sunlight through the window, revealing hidden whispers of auburn, remnants of a past dye job. The medium length tresses grazed just beyond her shoulders, framing her face in a soft, natural halo.

At five foot seven, she stood tall among her peers, a statuesque figure that commanded attention. Her thick curves, elegantly proportioned, lent a graceful allure to her silhouette.

They say actions speak louder than words, and if anyone embodied that adage, it was Sammy. I remember the tales of our freshman year, when a simple misunderstanding ignited a spark that culminated in a fierce altercation. Gossip swirled like a tempest, escalating into needless drama. But nobody dared to cross her path after that day.

Becky leaned forward, eager to contribute more to the conversation. "My cousin Tyler said that he robed that corner liquor store one time, said it was an easy target."

In my mind's eye, I pictured her cousin gangly frame, his sparse mustache resembling a patchwork of needles rather than a symbol of masculinity. "That fool spins more yarns than a spider," Kara chimed in with a giggle, her amusement evident even from the backseat.

A smile tugged at my lips as I recalled Tyler's penchant for exaggeration, his tall tales more absurd than a carnival sideshow. "Remember when he claimed he fought off two cops while shoplifting?" I interjected, my own memories mingling with the shared amusement of my friends.

Sammy's laughter rang out, punctuated by the dimples that deepened with each grin. "And don't forget the gold Rolex he supposedly stumbled upon," she added, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Wasn't that back in eighth grade?"

"Oh yeah, he did tell us that," I remarked, my lips curing into a grin as I flicked the right blinker light, guiding my car onto our familiar street. "Thought he was cool as shit, talking about pawning it and getting loads of money." Laughter bubbled up from within me, infectious as it spread though the group in the memory of good old Tyler, the legendary fabricator.

Turning up the volume of my radio, country music flooded the car. I felt compelled to change the channel, seeking a sound more suited to my mood.

In the midst of my search, a radio host spoke through the speakers like rich molasses. "Yeah, and that's not all. Did you catch wind of the fifty-thousand-year-old comet that graced us with its presence a couple days ago?" His voice, deep and rustic. "They called it E3 or something like that."

A breathy response echoed from another host, her voice a gentle breeze compared to his earthy tones. "No, what happened?"

The girls in the car were oblivious to what was going on as they were bickering about who the best rapper is.

"Get this," he drawled, savoring the revelation. I turned the volume up. "This ancient comet supposably broke into more pieces, scattering across the Northern Hemisphere."

In an instant, the memory flooded back to me: the brilliant blue streak that had slashed across the sky like a firefly. I had watched from the confines of my room window, shared with Tio who was nestled asleep, captivated by the ethereal display.

I had mistaken it for a shooting star, a fleeting wish casted for that celestial wonderer only. A simple prayer that someday me and my family would get out of that cramped apartment tower and at a safer location. It was a dream as elusive as the comet itself, yet as irresistible as the stars that light up the night sky.

Turning back down the volume. "Did you all catch sight of the comet a few nights back?" I interrupted their ongoing conversations.

"A what?" Beck queried, her confusion evident.

"A comet, you buffoon, you know like Venus." Kara jumped in.

I glanced at Kara through my rearview mirror, searching for any hint of jest in her expression. However, her focused gaze and earnest demeanor revealed otherwise.

Turning my attention to Sammy, I couldn't contain a suppressed giggle. "If it were a planet crashing into ours, we'd all be goners," Sammy asserted. "It's smaller than a planet, composed of rocks, ice, and other minerals, sometimes even gas."

A hushed silence enveloped the car as we absorbed Sammy's unexpected burst of knowledge. My eyes widened, impressed, and shot her a look of admiration.

"What?" I pay attention in science class, as you all should," Sammy declared, pride evident in her words.

Mr. Mason's science class often veered into unconventional territory, often blowing shit up for fun.

"Whatever it is, it's probably aliens," Becky chimed in, her focus on applying dark eyeliner visible though the rearview mirror.

"If it is aliens, the government won't tell us. Hell, they're probably aliens themselves," Kara speculated, the discussion shifting to extraterrestrial possibilities.

"They gaslight us more than my ex-boyfriend, that's for sure," Becky added, her pocket mirror closing with a decisive snap.

Whatever the celestial anomaly was, a fervent hope clung to my thoughts: let it be the harbinger of a wish fulfilled.