“It can be difficult,” Professor MacMillan says, “getting that first foot in the door. You’re not the first graduate to feel a little lost once they’re out in the real world. But—” She shrugs, leaning back in her chair. “If anyone was going to be the next me, I would be honored to share this mantle with you, Dr. Porter.”

“Thank you,” Grace says quietly. She forces herself to meet Professor’s MacMillan’s eyes, as a peer and not a student. “Do you have any advice?”

Professor MacMillan grimaces. Her gray hair and crow’s feet make her look tired. “Listen,” she says. “I’m a researcher first, and a professor and advisor second. I don’t have all the answers you might think I do.”

“But you said I’m not the first.”

“Of course, you’re not the first. You won’t be the last. I try to tell my students the same thing—be persistent, be dependable and don’t back down when you know you’re right. I know there are things that might make that harder for you. I wish I knew how to combat that.”

“Me, too.”

Professor MacMillan nods. “Listen, I’m not telling you anything groundbreaking, okay? You spent your undergrad, including your summers, knee-deep in astronomy. We saw kids come and go, but not you. You went straight into the master’s program and finished the PhD program faster than some people finish lunch. You’ve spent the past eleven years racing against all our expectations and your own. And now that you’ve met them, you’re sitting here in my office, wondering what the hell you’re supposed to do now.”

She pauses, and Grace waits, trying to find her conclusion.

“Grace Porter, you are one of the most hardworking people I have ever seen. Eleven years is a long time to prove yourself to anyone. If anyone asks, I’d say you’ve earned the right for a break. To take a step back, as you said, and figure out your next eleven.”

“I feel like if I stop,” Grace says, “I’ll miss my chance. I have to plan it all out now, or I’ll lose the opportunity I had. I won’t have a second chance at getting this right.”

Professor MacMillan looks at her, and Grace is certain she sees her insecurity and exhaustion and ragged determination that she feels wavering.

Maybe eleven years is a long time to focus all your energy and time on one pursuit. Maybe it is a long time proving you can reach the finish line. She is here now, and she does not feel that elation that engulfed her when she graduated. She does not feel like anyone special. She does not feel particularly favored by the sun.

“And maybe you won’t,” Professor MacMillan says. “If so, that doesn’t make it your own personal failing. It’s not yours to take on. We’ll be losing a damn good astronomer if they refuse to make room for you. But you want to know something I’ve learned?”

Grace nods.

Professor MacMillan crosses her arms. “You are made up of stars and the black glittering universe,” she says quietly. “It may be too romantic for most of the people in this field, but it’s true. But you are still just a human. Just a small thing that has to find its way like everyone else in this enormous world. It will not be simple, Grace Porter, and it will not be easy. You may have to make a lot of noise, and the universe’s silence can be oppressive and thick. But you want them to hear you, and they will. So do not, not even for one second, stop making noise.”

“And if they don’t listen?”

Professor MacMillan shrugs. “Don’t give them that choice.”

Grace
7:39 p.m.
having an existential crisis.
lol text it.
Yuki
7:45 p.m.
[fuckboi voice] wow...without me??  
Grace
7:46 p.m.
lmao
i am tired and frustrated and anxious about work
and i have no one to take it out on
you married a real winner
Yuki
7:49 p.m.
i married the sun’s favorite girl. who else can say that?
Yuki
7:54 p.m.
weird question but are you okay
Grace
7:56 p.m.
i’m okay
i can handle it
Yuki
7:58 p.m.
totally believable. nailed it
Grace
8:03 p.m.
i have no choice but to handle it
do you ever feel like that?
sorry i know you have your show soon
Yuki
8:04 p.m.
um excuse me this is what wives are for.
in my gay fantasies growing up i always
wanted my wife to text me late at night
then we’d run away together and join like
a circus
Yuki
8:05 p.m.
is that what’s happening here
Grace
8:07 p.m.
joining the gay circus? no.
Yuki
8:09 p.m.
we went from kill your gays to kill your gay circus
Grace
8:10 p.m.
#progress
go do your show sorry
i’m going back to staring at my ceiling
Yuki
8:14 p.m.
anything good up there?
Grace pauses. Yuki doesn’t know this part of her. She doesn’t know Grace spends her nights staring up at the sky. She doesn’t know about the hours spent in a lab, hunched over samples of asteroids and space dust and computer data—not just for her studies, but to feel connected and seen by something bigger.

Grace
8:17 p.m.
stars. i have glow in the dark stars
all over my ceiling.
Yuki
8:19 p.m.
omg you’re a space nerd
Grace
8:20 p.m.
space doctor actually. i got my phd