You often skipped class with your boyfriend Jim and went up and around the bends to the abandoned mansion to either smoke or mess around. Tonight, you both laid in the mansion's worn and empty pool, dirty from years of no usage.

"Canis Major," Jim murmured distantly, hands stuffed in the pockets of his red jacket as he rested himself against you snugly. He stared up at the night sky, blanketed by stars.

Jim wasn't much of a talker, but he kept you updated on constellations that he learned about from the Griffith Observatory field trip a month ago. There was a mild melancholy expression on his face that you couldn't make out.