Far, far away, where the sky is a swirl of cotton-candy pink and the stars twinkle like giggling fireflies, there was a tiny planet called Glimmer. On Glimmer, the trees had leaves as soft as kitten paws, and the rivers bubbled with lemonade. Glug-glug! went the water, and it smelled like fresh-baked cookies—warm and sweet.

This is where Jacob lived. Jacob had hair that stuck up like a surprised porcupine and shoes that were always untied, no matter how many times he tried to tie them. Flip-flop! His feet went as he ran through the sparkly grass, which tickled his toes like tiny feather boops.

Every day, the children of Glimmer played together under the big, glowing school dome. There was Lila, who could jump higher than a rocket, and Milo, who told jokes that made everyone snort-laugh. But there was one child who always sat alone on the floating bench: Nova. Nova had silver hair that shimmered like moonlight and a spacesuit covered in tiny, clinking buttons. Clink-clank! they went when she moved. She smelled like rain on a hot sidewalk—fresh and a little bit mysterious.

One day, Jacob’s tummy did a little flip. Today was the day he would ask Nova to play. His heart went pitter-patter like a tiny drum. He took a deep breath, but his shoelaces chose that moment to trip him up. WHUMP! Down he went, right into a puddle of lemonade. Splash! His knees were sticky, his face was sticky, and—oh no—his hair was now flat as a pancake. The other children giggled, but Jacob just laughed too. Ha-ha-ha!

Nova’s eyes sparkled like the stars. "You look like a melted ice cream cone," she said, her voice soft as a whisper.

Jacob grinned. "Want to play tag? I’m already sticky, so I’ll be the best tagger ever!"

Nova hesitated. Her fingers twisted the clinking buttons on her suit. Clink-clank! "I don’t know how to play tag," she admitted. Her shoulders drooped like a wilting flower.

Jacob’s brain whirred like a little robot. "Then I’ll teach you! It’s easy—like this!" He wiggled his fingers, which felt as bumpy as a dinosaur’s back. Tickle-tickle! Nova giggled, and just like that, the floating bench was empty. The two of them zoomed across the playground, their laughter ringing like tiny bells. Ding-ding!

By the time the school bell chimed ding-dong!, Jacob and Nova were best friends. They shared a snack of crunchy starberries (which sounded like snap-crackle! when you bit into them) and promised to play again tomorrow.

That night, as Jacob floated in his bed (because beds on Glimmer didn’t have legs—they just bobbed like balloons), he smiled. The stars outside his window winked at him, and he winked back. Tomorrow, he’d find another friend to invite. Maybe someone who was afraid of the dark. Or someone who didn’t know how to share. Because on Glimmer, kindness was the brightest thing of all—brighter even than the cotton-candy sky.