Hi, I’m Indigo says the blonde freckles girl. She wears boots every day to school and her hair is in a perfectly groomed ponytail. Her hair smiles and bats her eyelashes. Her eyes say stay away there are dark secrets here. I’m Stella. Our friendship started like a light being turned on. Fast and beautiful. Stella, Indigo, Stella, Indigo, one illuminates the other always. We skip and sing along. We come to school, streamers of many different colors… It’s the Valentine dance.

Salty tears stream down her face. Tobias says sorry but she doesn’t hear. Heartbreak. Indigo and I go through this like getting a bad grade on a test. I’m sorry Tobias says again. I say don’t you ever hurt her again. Indigo’s eyes stop crying and they become full of hatred, sorrow, and then hate. I know her heart can only take so much pain. I say let’s go eat. We stroll into the room of desserts shouting don’t eat me, even though we look good. The cookies hug each other saying their final words. The chips dance, knowing it’ll probably be their last. I grab a chocolate chip cookie and Indigo gets a cupcake. I bite into the luscious, light cookie, tasting the creamy chocolate. Indigo eats her cupcake whole, not wanting it to come to an end, suffering. Let’s go she says. I don’t want to be here anymore. Okay. Indigo I’m sorry says Tobias. Stop Tobias, break my heart as many times as you’d like, it was only yours to break anyway. Tobias trudges off.

We walk home hand in hand. What Tobias said was stupid I say. I know. There are many things I can see in her eyes. One of them is light. Indigo knows there will be future in the starry sky. The stars blink down on us and say everything will be alright. The clouds block the stars. Rain starts to fall. Pitter, patter. Stella, Indigo, Stella, Indigo one illuminates the other always.

Hi Belinda, I say. Hello Lindsay, how’s school coming? Fine thanks, I answer. I look into her green-blue eyes, like the sea. Her mouth twitches into a smile. The brilliant red lips, like a fire truck grinning back at me. How’s Terry? I ask. Is his leg doing okay? Yes. She responds. He’ll be able to play golf in a few weeks. We are walking a few doors down from our house to theirs. I look at the gray house, grimacing back at me. I step in and take off my shoes on the immaculate rug. Snowy white rose red, and sunny yellow pop out at me. I look around Belinda and Terry’s house. The walls are egg shell white. The couch is a light color and luxurious. The vased roses are loud and the white coffee table droops, sad to be like everything else.

I prepared chicken, chick peas with salad, squash with spices, and salmon for Steve because he’s vegetarian says, Belinda. Wow, this looks good I say. Help yourselves says Terry. Terry is Belinda’s husband. Terry is a doctor. So, Stella, Terry looks at me, what are you learning in science? Biology right now, we just finished our plate tectonics unit. What are you studying in biology? I used to love biology when I was a kid. Well, right now we are sculpting out the human body! I say. It’s lots of fun! I grab the last piece of chicken. I bite into it. The toasty brown outside crunches as I bite into the next layer of sweet and salty meat. I eat the rest fast before we can converse again. The bare bone still has flecks of meat left. I try to pick it clean, but some pieces are still hanging off, like people trying to find their way. The bone says haha you didn’t eat me clean. I bite down again, furiously trying to inhale the last bit. Sadly, it won’t budge. The bone is laughing, a sound like a car honking. Stella? I look up. Oh sorry, what was the question? I say. Do you want to become a doctor when you grow up? Terry asks. Yes. I respond. Why? Well, I think it would be interesting to learn about how humans were created and everything, I say.

I finish the meal fast and ask to be excused. I walk around the house feeling out of place in my teal tank top and green flip flops. I go downstairs admiring the lady in the painting on the wall. She has one leg clutching her chest, while the other holds the rest of her body strong. She is graceful and proud. Just like this house. The lower level is darker and smells slightly sour. I look at the giant sixty-inch flat screen TV in front of me. Wow. I really wish I had one of those. I could be like a famous movie star. Stella, it’s time for you to go! I take one last look at the proud TV, the graceful painting, and the loud rose. Then I’m out the door.

Come on Tobias! Pass to me! I yell. The ball is passed around and around, but never to me. Or any of the girls. Set hike! Tobias shouts. He passes the football to another boy on our team. The red flags dangle around my waist waiting to be yanked and then put back on again. No one else is open, so the boy is forced to pass to me before his flags are jerked away. The football looks like a spear, hurling itself at me. I catch it, happy that it didn’t hit me. I charge straight, heading for the orange cones with the shiny silver stripe. I feel something tugging on one of my flags. I turn to see Tobias trying to take my flag. The flags are saying go! Go! Go! I twirl and Tobias loses his light grip. The flags put their heads down, frowning. I’m about to score a touchdown when someone tackles me to the ground. Tobias?! You again! The flags are now jumping, happy to finally be pulled off into freedom. They dance back to the flag bag as our coach calls us back to the benches.

The next day, all the girls are clustered in groups talking to one another. The boys play football, not even bothering to pass to us. A football flies toward the group that I’m with. It’s chocolate brown with whipped cream stitches on the side. The spear hits a girl in the back, sending her into a painful crouch. Coach says, girls, why aren’t you playing? We say, no boy passes to us so why bother? The coach makes the other girls and I play again. We are the stripes and they are the stars always taking the light from us. I try to intercept the ball and immediately a boy tackles me. Sorry, he says. It’s fine.

Tomorrow we will all play football, coach says. But the girls say, no one passes to us. That’s fine, just intercept them. All the girls roll their eyes. Ugh. I’m open, pass to me! I shout, but the boys don’t care. They have sweat dripping down their faces, like magma down the side of a volcano. Their faces are the color of an apple and their hair is sticking to their scalps. The girls, on the other hand, are all dry. There aren’t any lava divots or sticky scalps, just sadness and boredom. I’m running again. Willing the wind to blow into my face, making me less hot. Again, someone tackles me and the ground welcomes me. Hi, it says, stay and play with me. I get up, but the football is being sent straight towards my back, ready to puncture it. Get up, Stella and try again, coach yells. We are the stripes and they are the stars, always taking the light from us.

Stella! Stella! Tobias shouts. Oh sorry. I look up from my pink and purple iPhone. I was wondering if you would go to the Halloween dance with me? Sure, I’d love to. See you tonight! A rose blush blossoms on my face, like a flower finally revealing itself to the world. In my head, I know that I truly don’t like Tobias, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I knew this was going to happen and there was only one soul purpose why I was doing it. For Drew and Indigo and Samara and Noah. My two best friends, Samara and Indigo begged me to go say yes to Tobias, so we could all go on a triple date.

My coal Mercedes pulls up in front of the school. It’s the Halloween dance. Closer by Chainsmokers comes up on the DJ’s list, like something that was hiding and just appeared. Just then, Tobias and Drew walk in, followed by Blake. Everybody swoons as soon as they see Blake, like he’s the most famous movie star on TV. We all are dancing, whispering, and gossiping. It’s how every dance goes. The first slow dance arrives and boys are asking girls to dance. Tobias walks up to me. He’s being pushed by his friends. Stella, may I have this sweet dance? Of course. He’s tall, much taller than me, so my arms are put at an awkward angle in order to stay with the rhythm. Since Tobias and I have been friends for four years, we talk like we always do. Indigo is making breaking heart motions from behind Tobias’ back. She knows that I like Blake and not Tobias. It’s hot and humid, like a tropical island. Tobias’ hands are starting to get sweaty from around my waist. Likewise mine are on his shoulders. Luckily, the slow dance comes to an end and Tobias hugs me. We thank each other for the dance and walk opposite directions.

The final slow song is come up soon. I feel a little bit defeated because Blake never asked me to dance. I hope he does now since the last one is arriving. I pray that he does, like my life depends on it. The slow song starts playing softly and Blake is heading in my direction. All of the sudden, some eighth grade girls block the way. Noticing this, he turns away and goes to ask a different girl. I feel like Indigo, when Tobias left her. The sinking feeling in my stomach almost sends me reeling. This is the first time that he has never asked me to dance in all of the dances. My breath hitches, my heart clenches and shatters. He knew that all he had to do was ask, but he was too scared to even do that. I walk away that night, seeing the stars smiling. I wonder how I can ever start over now.

Indigo glances at her watch. 30 minutes until lunch, she reports. Samara and I grin. It’s been a long day full of zip lining, down a long, rope that allows you to flip upside down, like an acrobat. Outdoor education was something that some people looked forward to and others don’t. Indigo was very excited because the night hike was where everybody held hands and she wanted to hold hands with Drew. I wasn’t that excited because it was supposed to be cold. I was right about the freezing part. It was 35 degrees outside. Some people didn’t bring enough layers because they only considered the fashion aspect. Class dismissed! Our geology teacher says. We all run to the mess hall and line up by the bell. The bell is ringing like a person does when something is working out for them. The bell has a hollow, melodious sound. The eighth-grade boys are lined up next to us. They are bickering and bantering. Samara is lined up in front of me and Indigo behind. Some particularly unkind boys decided that this was their perfect time to strike.

You’re not as pretty as your sister. You’re not as smart either. The boys pester Samara. She shows no emotion on her face, but I can tell she’s holding something in. The group leader silences the middle school. Today for lunch we have tacos, she rambles on. You’re so negative, can you stop? One boy asks. They are poking at Samara, waiting for her to give in. Can you guys stop? I say. Can you? A boy shoots back. I’m about ready to punch one of those boys for calling Samara those sad, sorrowful, shameful names.

We file in for lunch and hurry to the line. Samara hides her face and I know she’s crying. I’m sorry that they said all those horrible things, they’re not true. But what if they are? Samara shows her terrible, tear streaked face like someone just died.They’re not! If anything you’re better than your sister. Both of you have your own strengths and weaknesses. Don’t let that stop you from anything. I try to calm Samara’s nerves and make her feel better. Okay, she says finally. I believe you. Good, I say. Samara holds her head up high and prepares herself for the worst.

She's up! My dad opens the curtains and lets the golden, morning light pour into my purple room. What do you want for breakfast? I don’t know, I answer. Let’s make waffles, he says. Okay. I grab my bathrobe and follow him downstairs. As I say good morning to my mom, my dad gets all the ingredients to make waffles. We make waffles or pancakes almost every weekend. I walk into the whimsical kitchen with red cabinets below, that contrast with the white cabinets above. The colors are like blood on your skin. Where’s the flour? Dad rummages through one of the blood cabinets. Oh, there it is! Let’s get started, I say smiling.

I love cooking and baking because it’s like I’m whipping up a storm. My own storm that I can control any way I want to. I can experiment or taste, it’s all my choice. There’s music in my head as I mix the almost lime green colored oil, the sunny eggs, and the milk. I stir and pour at the same time into another bowl, which contains flour, baking soda, and honey. I hum while I mix, but the pans are hot so I need to stir faster. Here. My dad takes the bowl and starts pouring the batter onto the waffle iron.

The smell of the waffles is like freshly baked biscuits with butter. Mom! It’s time to eat, I shout. My dad starts cleaning the kitchen, while my mother and I help ourselves. I bite into a hot waffle. The cinnamon and nutmeg spring out at me, like a sudden thunderstorm on a sunny day. I shove butter between three of the waffles and pour maple syrup over all of it. My dad comes over with three mugs of Mexican hot chocolate. Wow this is really good, says my mom. The storm comes to a halt in my world, but t

Okay, so where do you want to go first? Dana looks around the vast, vivacious Flatiron Mall. My dad left us to go look at furniture stores and we could go wherever we want. Let’s go into Vera Bradley first, I say. Dana and I walk into the beige room, with pops of color everywhere you look. From bags to satchels, to backpacks, to wallets, Vera Bradley has it all. Oh my gosh! Dana pointed a black velvet purse and runs to it. I want this! She says. Dana flips over the price tag and it reads $108.00. Never mind, she looks disappointed. We leave the store and head over to Bath and Body Works.

Here, try this. Dana takes the sparkly perfume bottle and sprays a bit on her hand. The one I just gave you is called Wild Madagascar, I tell her. It smells so good! Dana just sniffs her hand repeatedly because it smells so lovely. It’s Veteran’s Day, so everywhere you look there are signs that say 70% off or buy one get two free! Dana and I are smelling hand sanitizers, which are buy three, get two free. There’s one called Vanilla Swirl, try it. I give the tester bottle to Dana and she sniffs it. It smells artificial, she reports.

Let’s go into there! Okay. We walk into Sephora. I immediately can tell that it’s Sephora before we even walk in because there are black and white stripes on the outside of the store. We chatter excitedly as a lady hands us a little shopping bag. Dana and I turn left looking at some concealers of all different skin tones. Next, we see lipstick. We decide to pass that aisle because neither of us really likes lipstick. There’s an aisle full of makeup bags, removers, and wipes. Yes! Dana suddenly starts jumping up and down. There they are. We rush forwards towards the isle of lip gloss and small tubes of lipstick.

Do you like this one on me? Dana tries a little bit of a lip gloss tube called Baby Doll. No, too bright, I say. Dana and I try on tube after tube of gloss until we are both stuck between Lucid, which is a clear gloss, Deep Rose, that has a dark, mysterious factor, Earth, and Fire, like two people supporting each other and Bubblegum. Each tube is $12. I eliminate Earth and Fire because you couldn’t tell that something was on my lips. Dana is stuck between Lucid and Bubblegum.

My dad texts me asking, ready to go? I reply, give us ten minutes. I decide on Deep Rose and Dana chooses Bubblegum. We go to the checkout line with the lady that has bright red lipstick, like an overripe tomato. We finish checking out and then meet my dad by Haagen Dazs ice cream. Dana and I say goodbye to the lipsticks, perfumes, and bags. The mall says goodbye to the Earth and Fire. I’m the fire and Dana’s the Earth and we hold each other up no matter what.

Stella, I need to talk to you, Drew shouts to me. What?, I turn around. Tell Indigo that we’re done, he whispers and walks away. What?, I’m half surprised, half disgusted. You tell her yourself! I yell back to him. He didn’t turn around. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to tell Indigo the sad reality. Oh my gosh! Indigo! I need to tell you something! What? Indigo turns around, her beautiful blonde hair whipping in her face. Drew said he wants to break up with you, I report. Okay, she tries to brush it off, but I know my best friend isn’t okay. We walk upstairs to the lunch room and start eating. Indigo leaves the room, claiming she needs to go to directed study. I know she’s not going there, like a guilty criminal.

I find her in the bathroom, crying. Indigo, come here. I try to soothe her. I just want to be alone, she says. I leave the bathroom and go find Drew. You have to talk to her! At this point, I’m very angry with him. Fine. Indigo and Drew talk together behind a tree. Finally, Indigo comes out from behind the green, prickly giant. So, Samara, Dana and I are all curious, waiting for the outcome. We are getting back together, she says smiling. Yay! We all clap. Then I realize, no matter what happens, they will always be like icebergs. Whenever they come apart, they will always come together again. I know that they like each other too much to hurt the iceberg that they’ve created.

Ready? I breathe deeply and then let out a big breath. Are you nervous? I ask. A little bit, but I mean everybody gets nervous before they do something important. Samara is going on in two songs. She’s playing Minuet No. 3 by Bach. I played that piece a year ago. She and I are also playing a duet and a sextet with four other people. Unlike Samara, the cello is half my life. The music takes you back to places that are on your mind. You meet people that you dream about and magic that you never thought would come true. It’s a whirlwind of life. In order to activate this spell, you need to move with the music. Feel in through the most distinct regions of your body. You have to nurture and guide the melody, on the path that you want it to take. Whether it’s a sad one that turns out happy or a sad one that doesn’t turn happy. You need to lead it. If it gets lost, there’s no turning back.

Samara finishes her song with some winning vibrato and leaves the stage. She half smiles at me and whispers good luck, like this is some kind of game show. I nod and wipe my sweaty palms on the black slacks that I’m wearing. The introduction begins and I’m standing there lost and alone. The notes are at my fingertips. I’m standing in a room with no windows and no doors. There are fire and flames shooting out of the ground and making the earth tremble. I’m being burnt, but out of the corner of my eye, I see him. The notes have a faint glimmer of hope. A boy is standing there, his cat-like eyes searching me in curiosity. Help! I call to him in urgency. We work our way towards each other, but every time we try, more red hot flames scorch my clothes and skin.

There’s only one way to make a song victorious. It’s by reuniting people who have been lost, together again. The boy and I touch our palms together. There is a growing light, a blinding light. We are standing there, hair whipping in the wind and the fire is going out. There is a bang and the finale begins. The boy and I fall to the ground and he disappears. I hear clapping and raise my head. The audience looks pleased with my performance and I bow with a flourish.

I have a gift for you. Samara’s grandma holds out a yellow rose with trembling fingers. Thank you, Ruth, for helping Samara and I. Don’t thank me, she says, this was all you. Ruth keeps talking in a rickety voice, like a chair that’s about to fall over. I’ll see you soon, I tell her. I look down at the rose. It’s petals are delicate to the touch almost that if you did touch it, it would tear and tear up. There are glimmers of sparkles within the petals. I remember the boy, holding his hand out to me. I’ve bonded myself to the most glorious type of happiness, music.

Ready? Dad asks for the final time. We sit the car and carefully name everything that we bought, in case we forgot something. It’s like we are packing to go the Yukon or someplace extreme. My mom rushes out of the door, wearing a black sports shirt. It contrasts to my magenta long sleeved shirt. We are going to Arches National Park. It has red rock arches like they were man-made. Each arch is so perfect, like a rainbow. I’ve never been there before so it’s time to try something new. It’s Thanksgiving day and the rugged roads are generally empty.

Does anyone want to stop for a break? Sure. We all clamber out of the car, stagger then stretch. I look out at the vast landscape, with a few dwarfed trees. It’s mostly an olive green with a few faded red cliffs in the background, like an old photograph. We climb back into the car and leave the visitor station. The only that we leave is tire tracks. Five minutes after we get into the car, I put my headphones on and don’t heed what my parents are talking about. The music blasts in my ears and I sway to it. My mom looks at the map of Utah. There are so many colors; green, red, yellow, blue. It’s like someone splashed colors onto a canvas. Occasionally there are some hills with factories on top. I see the layered mountains in the distance. Each layer represents a part of your personality. There’s anger, happiness, worry. Some colors jump out at me, but most are jumbled.

An hour or so later, we arrive at Glenwood Springs. Most stores aren’t open because it’s Thanksgiving. However, there’s one Vietnamese restaurant that’s open. We walk in and a distracted man with disarrayed hair leads us to a booth and points to the buffet in the corner. He hands us menus and we decide on a few items. People start filing in after us and getting the buffet. We’re the only people who don’t buffet. I ordered pho and when it arrived, I could smell the sweet smells wafting from the bowl. After we finished eating, we emptied ourselves and then went back to the car and starting driving again.

This is so busy, let’s go to the overlook. I shake my head, like a coach after the player misses the shot. Okay, we’ll still be able to see the sunset and the stars, mom says. My family and I hike up the hard hill, full of rocks and rugged terrain. There're forty-five minutes until sunset when the Delicate Arch will be at its prime lighting best for pictures. The overlook’s small perimeter is stuffed with people, like a bloated submarine sandwich. It’s on top of a large hill that looks down on rock walls and a large stone jutting out of the bottom of a steep ravine. We hike away from the crowd and to a rock hill. Once we reach the top, my dad and I try to find a way to hike out to the jutting stone. We decide that that would be the perfect place to watch the stars and sunset. Dad spots an entrance, but it includes scaling a small bunch of rocks that are stacked on top of each other. I don’t think I can do this. I’ll wait here and watch, my mom isn’t sure she can do this.

Wow, this is an amazing view. I’m stunned at the sunset as we are perched on top of the round rock. I stare in curiosity at the rock walls that lead to the canyon down below. They’re glossy and straight, like a pole slathered in lip gloss. Beyond, the arch sits precariously, barely holding onto the edge of the slope. It’s bathed in red-orange light, like an orange taking a blood bath. The sound of people taking pictures and talking carries to us, on the other side of the canyon. The sun is shooting off bursts of color; yellows and peaches, like a someone shooting an arrow and hitting its target. The peaches and bananas grow brighter on the horizon and explode, bouncing off the sandstone walls and shedding radiance everywhere.

It’s dark and animals are coming out of their dens for their nightly stroll. The stars are just starting to appear, like moths slowing moving where the light is. Some stars pulse in and out like they have other places to go and then come back. There is one bright continuous star and my dad says that’s Jupiter. Jupiter is the brightest star by far. She’s a girl star, blinking and winking and getting brighter and brighter. She smiles at the North Star and waves. We spot Andromeda, the Seven Sisters, and the Big Dipper. We are our own stars that blink at each other. Everybody is one star in the sky, whether a big one like Jupiter or a small one like the Seven Sisters, who always stay young. My family and I hop over boulders and hike over the flat ground until we get to our car. We drive home, the stars still staring and the sunset still exploding.

Stella, come one! Put on some ice skates! Okay, I pay the girl with the nude lipstick and get my pair of skates. I lace them up and slowly step onto the ice. My friends glide onto the ice gracefully, like ballerinas doing tricks. All my classmates are skating, sending up little plumes of frost behind them. I’m not a very advanced skater, so I work my way around the ice, holding onto rickety, wooden side rail as if my life depended on it. I forgot to bring gloves, so my hands feel like I just stuck them in an ice chest.

Stella, you’re skating like an inchworm, Dana calls to me. Here, says Indigo. She carries over a crumpled sled that can still be used and gestures for me to get on it. I’m like a sputtering train, slowly moving around the track. I try to sit down, but my skates give way from under me and I sit down hard. It feels like someone pushed me down by the shoulders. My ice skating mates start pulling me around in the sled and soon I’m really picking up speed. As I pass some of my other classmates, I wave to them and laugh. They laugh with me and shout, hey Stella! Wait for me! Eventually, I have a whole ensemble of people either pulling me or skating next to me. I look around to see my happy friends and I feel so thankful to have friends like these.

The moon is like a man, glowing with brilliancy. Nova nods at me when I ask her if she’s ready. We tack our sailboat using only the moonlight as our light source. The salmon red sail jumps out against the meek white. Nova’s hair shines a dingy dark brown in the moonlight and we cast our tiny boat into the water. The muddy murky water makes it impossible to see our shoes. I hold the boat steady as she climbs in and starts to steer the boat towards me, so I can get in. I control the ropes, while Nova steers. The wind is soft at first and we make slow progress. As the wind picks up, the moon seems to get brighter and the telltales are like little snakes, wiggling in the grass. We practice tacking and jibing, turning different directions in case the wind picks up a lot. Sure enough, that paid off because the wind starts to blow in gusts and Nova gives me the steering device, so that she can measure the amount of wind and which direction it’s coming from.

The wind has picked up a lot and we a racing through the waves, like a knife through flesh. Nova is laughing and smiling until there is a huge lurch and the boat tilts drastically towards my side. Nova almost tumbles out of the boat, but luckily I grab her hand before she hits the water. Phew, she says. That was a close one, I breathe in a sigh of relief. She clambers back in and we cut through the water like vinegar disperses soy sauce. Once again, there’s the wind on my face, making my cheeks and ears cold. Nova and I are laughing. We’re going so fast, so smoothly, so steadily. We whoop and holler at the moon pulsing, like an old movie fading in and out.

We get out of the graceful sailboat. Nova’s cheeks are pink and the tips of my ears shine red from the chill. Nova’s as always stylish clothes are dripping from the surf, as are mine. I undo my hair and smell the reservoir on my skin. It smells like something died, was resurrected and then died again. I need to take a shower, I grimace. Nova laughs, a tinkling sound like wind chimes. C’mon let’s go, we link arms and walk up the beach. Nova and I are little specks in the distance, we will get closer and fade out, but we always can count on each other always.

Ugh, the line is so long, Ashley complains. Oh well, I say, it will be worth it in the end. My cousins, Ashley and Karoline, are here in Orlando, Florida to spend Christmas with us. We are going to Magical Kingdom, Animal Kingdom, Epcot, Hollywood Studios, and Universal Studios. Currently, we are at a roller coaster in Universal Studios. It’s called the Hulk because you flip over, drop, and spin. There’s about a 40-minute wait, but we all want to do it, so we wait in line. The line weaves around outside and into a large dome of a building.

It smells funny in here, Karoline says. There’s sort of a musty odor that has a little tang to it, like a pancake with cinnamon in it. The theme of the ride is Hulk, so the pillars and projectors are all pretty big, to symbolize how big Hulk is. The line spirals up a staircase, where at the end, people are getting ready for the ride. Soon we reach the top and get ourselves harnessed and buckled into our seats. The workers give us the thumbs up and send us off. We chug up a steep slope and suddenly plunge down the other side. The wind is on my face and it blowing my hair back. My eyes are closed and my hands are clammy. We flip upside down and feel my stomach lurch like I’ve just had ten chocolate cakes. It’s exhilarating, flying through the hot, humid air. Everybody is screaming and some people are putting their hands out as if to embrace the air. We go through a misty tunnel and I feel water droplets splash onto my clothing. The mist is like sea foam, light and fluffy, but still soaks your clothes. The roller coaster comes to a halt and the workers cheer and congratulates us for surviving the ride. Whew, that was fun! I say excitedly. Let’s go do it again!

I like you, Blake tells me. I’m in euphoria, ecstatic. There she is, the other girl. The girl that has everything I don’t, the girl that Blake traded me for. His friends say, choose the popular, others say choose the unpopular. I don’t want to choose he says disapprovingly. You have to, his friend says. Blake’s other friend says, you have a choice. It’s like a war between her and me, the pretty and the unwanted, the shopper and the reader. We are opposites, we were destined to be fighting against each other.

It’s recess and the whole grade is standing out on the field. Come on Blake, you have to decide now. We’re both standing on opposite sides of him, waiting eagerly for the answer. Okay fine, I choose her. She looks like someone who just scored a home run. It starts to snow, the first snow that we’ve had. All the kids run off, except Blake and I. I’m sorry, he says and he truly looks disappointed. The first flake touches my cheek. It sends a lightning bolt through my body. I say two words that send him reeling and walking away. I wish, I turn around and look into the sky, but the stars are gone. My friends aren’t perfect, my family isn’t perfect, and my life isn’t perfect, so be it. The stars are gone because I’ve accepted who I am. The reader, the unwanted, the wisher. Whatever the wishes, wants, dreams, desires, and hopes are, accepting who you are is the key to opening the door. The door with intricate patterns and emotions. Guess what? They’re all laid out for me. I wish.