-Star of my Sea-
Stella’s POV

It’s six years now since my mum died. I was eight when she passed; so much more aware of what was happening, compared to Sam. But Sam was a lot closer to Mum; I was such a daddy’s girl that mum was never all that of an important role in my life. But Dad worshipped Mum.They had met when they were much younger. They were both accomplished sailors at the Seashell Cove Sailing Club, and were oft put on the same team. Their strong freindship blossomed into a romance that spawned a beautiful family. Sure, they had the odd fight, but that never stopped them loving each other. That’s really what I want, when I’m older, and have a family.
 Sam was three when she passed, and didn’t know that she was dying, partly because mum never told him. How could she? He was three years old.
But one of dad’s favourite stories to tell me is how when they came out of the hospital, the night I was born, they looked up into the night sky and saw the stars. Mum started singing that old Coldplay song:
“Look at the stars, and how they shine for you, and everything you do, and they were all yellow”
Dad murmured: “Stella, that’s her name: Stella.”
Mum agreed heartily and I was brought home. My originally pink room was painted the lightest blue and silver stars were painted on the ceiling. To this day, my room hasn’t changed. I still look up at those stars and feel connected to my mum. Somehow, when I’m out on the boat, I feel that way, too.
Today was Monday and my friends and I had agreed to meet in the shopping centre at 2. So at breakfast, I told Dad I was going out.
“No,” Dad said. “You can’t. Your cousin Liana is coming to stay!” Liana and I are enemies. We’re complete opposites: she was pretentious, bossy, prissy and a total snob; I was quiet, humble, athletic, and competitive and I let people walk all over me (as much as I hate that).
“WHAT?” I choke on my honey cereal, Sam giggles from across the table, and Dad puts a hand to his face. “No! Ewh! Liana? Why Liana!? Wait… when was this even ORGANISED??” I yell at him.
He sighs. “Stella, calm down. Your aunt and uncle, Patricia and Percy, are going to Kenya for the summer. Something about donations, they were talking about.” He waves a hand dismissively. The rich jerks! Coming to ruin my summer because they took some crazy notion about Kenya?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I am fuming, but I’ve managed to take my seat again.
“On the boat, well, I was afraid I might be thrown overboard.” He chortles at his own joke, and grabs a piece of toast from his plate.
“Har, har, hilarious.” I am so angry at him. “When was it organised?”
Dad has to think about this one. “Uhm, a week or so, I suppose. They only got tickets recently.”
“How long is she staying for?”
“I told you, the first two months of summer!”
“No, this is the first I’ve heard of it!”
“Will I have to give up my room?” Sam pipes up, pouting.
“Shut up, Sam! Dad, you know how much I hate Liana!”
“Well…I thought you could maybe show her around, maybe even, uhm, teach her some sailing.” He confesses. I stare at him, dumbfounded and outraged.
Okay, what.is.happening!
“Now, she’ll be taking the guest room, so I want you to go put sheets on the beds and clear up the dressing table.”
“Gararrrgh! Dad!”
“Now, Stella—no discussions,” He frowns.
I slam my bowl into the sink, shove in my chair, and bang the door and thunder upstairs. If he thinks that’s happening, he’s got another thing coming.