The Falling Star Shattered My Childhood

My fingers swiped across the social platform screen when a post titled "Old Steps, Shared Moonlight — Then a New Star Fell" suddenly caught my eye. The top comments were packed tight, but the story felt like a replay of my own life. The poster said she could always easily drive a wedge between childhood couples, watching them go from inseparable to drifting apart, feeling pretty da*n proud about it. My heart suddenly clenched, a name flashing in my mind — Georgia Baden. Memories involuntarily drifted back to childhood. Kingsley Perry and I walked to school together in the morning light, carried our backpacks side by side after school. He stood up for me when I was bullied, and I read lessons to him when he was sick. During those three years of middle school, our names were almost inseparable; everyone just assumed we'd always stay like that. Until that autumn in 10th grade, when Georgia Baden transferred into our class. She wore a white dress, her smile sweet. Right after she walked in, she headed straight for the empty seat next to Kingsley. "Hi, I'm Georgia. Nice to meet you." Her voice was soft, but her eyes held a subtle, almost hidden edge of challenge. Kingsley smiled and nodded, getting up to help her move the desk. That was the first time he didn't look at me first. After that, Georgia always found some excuse to hang around Kingsley. She'd "coincidentally" walk home with us, "accidentally" forget her notes and borrow from Kingsley, and even deliberately trip in gym class just so he'd help her up. I watched Kingsley grow closer to her while gradually drifting cold toward me. Once, we agreed to meet at the library that weekend. I waited by the entrance all afternoon. Later, Kingsley said something came up at Georgia and he had to help out. The cracks spread silently, before I even realized.