There is no such thing as a true beginning, stories are cyclical in that sense, but for him it was simple. It starts with a girl who made his world shine.
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Abel Brinkley has had asthma since the day he was born. At least, that’s what it feels like. Before
high school, his mom kept telling him it’ll go away with age. Spoiler Alert: it didn’t. He thought, Thanks for the bs, mom.
It stayed with him through the time he took off his braces, exchanged glasses for contacts, and went through puberty(he was no longer a short, scrawny, shrill-voiced nerd. Thank the lord).
The asthma coupled with the allergies and minor, self-diagnosed anxiety means that he and his lungs have been through the ringer.
At least one of those was the reason why he was currently doubled over, gasping for breath instead of being on his new bus on his way to a new school in a new town. The point being he was new, obviously.
He thought that if parents were paying thousands of dollars to send their kids to an elite private school, the very least the school could do was send a car to the front of his house with his own personal chauffeur. Then again, he was there on a scholarship so maybe he wasn’t lucky enough to be included in the truly rich people aspects of private schooling.
This morning, he had forgotten to set his alarm. His old school started at 8 o’clock and he lived ten minutes from it; plus, he had a car, which was beaten-down and old, but it got the job done. This school started at seven-thirty and he lived thirty minutes away. His car, meanwhile,

was AWOL, lost in shipping somewhere in South Florida. You didn’t need to be a genius at calculus to see why things weren’t adding up.
The semantics really weren’t working out for him. He woke up at seven o'clock, which was the exact time that he was supposed to be walking to his bus. He put on his uniform (his old school didn’t even have one) and sprinted out of the house. Running was obviously not a good choice, all things considered.
The bus that was supposed to be his chariot to hell was probably carting away all those other damned souls to that damn school.
His life sucked.
How was he supposed to ride off into the proverbial sunset now?
That’s when she pulled up, all smiles and charm, his personal princess charming, Juliet
Warner.
She ended up giving him a ride. At that moment, he was not entirely sure whether she
was wearing a headband or a halo. She recognized the uniform she told him on the way to school.
Later, when it was all over, he thought that maybe she recognized the desperation, too.
—————-——————————————————————
They become quick friends. She was smart, witty, and one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen. Jules introduced him to his friends, and soon enough they easily became his friends too.
It was easy with her, he decided.
She tied his ties better than he ever could, gave him rides to school in the morning, made him happy, laughed at his jokes, etc.
Before he realizes anything at all, he’s pretty sure he’s in love.

It kinda terrifies him like the feelings he gets before he stepped on a rollercoaster.
(It was, in all of its cliches, an apt description).
He asked her to be his girlfriend through a couple nervous stutters on a day that would
have been like any other except for the fact that he could have gotten his heart broken. Not that that mattered in the grand scheme of things.
She hummed and said, “I thought you’d never ask.”
He let out a breath he wasn’t sure he was holding.
—————————————————————————————————-
Drops of Jupiter was playing in the background as the car engine hummed softly.
The entire universe was opened to them from this little cliff on a small, pathetic (and dying, not that anyone wanted to admit that) planet.
Abel figured half of what they we’re looking at had long ago gone supernova and imploded. Cynical but accurate nevertheless.
Juliet was smiling like nothing mattered. She was free, staring up at the sky, totally unaware of anything else at all. He couldn’t help but stare at her, She glanced over at him.
“What’s up with you? You look like a reindeer ran over your grandma.” she said. “Thanks for that visual,” he replied.
“C’mon. It’s Christmas. I think it’s very appropriate,” she bumped his shoulders, “I can
basically hear your thoughts. Spill.”
She was looking at him now like she could see right through his soul. Every little crevice,
fear, and piece of anxiety opened to her as if his entire existence was a picture book for depressed four-year olds.
There was a moment where they were just staring at each other. Jules looked more inquisitive than normal. He had a feeling she wouldn’t let this one go.

He looked up again at the stars, the moon, and the universe and for a second he felt very insignificant (that second compounded to fill his entire lifespan up to this point and far beyond it too, but that’s a bit much even for her to know. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t).
“Do you ever wonder if any of what we’re doing today is important? Like, aren’t we just some small planet in a small solar system in some inconsequential galaxy. What are we compared to the universe?”
Her grin was subdued now, “A speck of dust, I assume.”
He rolled his eyes, “I’m being serious, y’know.”
“So am I. You asked a serious question and I gave you a factual answer. Listen, Abe, fact
is it doesn’t matter. People always worry about how everything got started, right? They fight over big bangs and some guy yelling ‘let there be light’ or whether this is all some big, advanced simulation or whatever. Personally, I think they put way too much focus on something that happened way too long ago. All that matters is that today we’re here, we’re alive, and we can be whatever we want.”
He hummed and considered her words for a moment,”What do you think started the universe?”
She scoffed, “What do I look like Google?” She looked down at her clothes and said, “The color scheme is a bit off.”
“C’mon, Jules. You love all that bs. What’s your theory? You gotta have one.”
“Okay, first of all, it’s not bs, it’s a hobby. Second of all, Mr. Existential Crisis, I don’t know, I like to think it was an alien’s crappy C+ science project or something”
“An alien?”

“Yeah, like, maybe there was just this alien sitting in science class creating an ecosystem in one of those little round things scientists put bacteria in-”
“A petri dish?”
“Yeah, so maybe something went wrong with his little science project and he created the universe instead.”
She was back to looking up at the sky again as if it held the answers to everything. He noticed Jules had a way of saying the weirdest things out of nowhere without acknowledging that they were weird at all.
“A petri dish universe.” He stated.
The grin ran back onto her face as she stared at the stars “Yeah, I guess. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”
“I don’t think it would be an alien that created the universe. Wouldn’t that dude or whatever, like, something all powerful or bigger than us somehow. There’s some plot holes in your theory there.”
“Well, the only other name I can think that would be appropriate would be god and that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms. The alien is just an uber bro or something, A Chad.” she shrugged. “I’ll tell you the best part of having your own stories.”
“What?”
“If you rely on your own imagination, you don’t have to ask people who don’t really know the answer.”
He looked back at her then and she was gazing right back at him. She looked so very sad now. Her smile resided and she just shrugged again.
“C’mon, Mr. Existential. I think that’s as depressing as I can get for today.”

She smiled for him again, but it was forced now, didn’t quite reach her eyes and he wondered how many times he missed that forced smile before he got so used to her real one.
Jules pulled up the chair and started the car. He realized whatever came out of her today would not be opened any wider, so he pulled up his chair too, put his seatbelt on, and turned his head toward the window as she started to drive back towards her house.
(He thinks of these moments a lot now)
—————————————————————————————————-
It’s funny, they hadn’t talked in so long, but when he found out she was dead, he couldn't breathe. The air was stuck in his lungs and time stopped.
Jules would have compared it to a space vacuum.
He thought it was more like a universe exploding.
It was his fault, he knew it was. They were supposed to have other chances.
There was something about grief and not moving on. It’s like being stuck in a bubble. He
saw everyone around him smile and be happy again. Some days he was just free-floating, going through the motions. And other days he wanted to be like the people walking past him so f*cking badly, but he couldn’t pop the bubble.
It was honestly suffocating. But she lives there. His memories of her and her smile and her laugh are all there. If he stayed in the bubble, then he stayed with her.
He was cognizant enough to realize that he did not want the past. He wanted the future. The past was what she left him with. She also left a box of stuff in the corner of her room. His stuff or maybe it was hers now. Either way, he wanted it back, besides the memories, it was all he had left of her

He wondered what tomorrow will be like without her.
—————————————————————————————————-
For him, his universe ends just the way scientists would say the universe started. With a bang. It sounds a lot like a gunshot.