“Mom!” I yelled downstairs. I couldn’t believe it. I had to get to my new school, Channing Prep, on the dot. If not… well, I don’t know what I would do with myself. Channing Prep was going to be great! A few months ago, my family was in a little bit of a tight spot with money. I wanted to transfer schools because back at my crummy, old, public middle school, I didn’t have many friends and way too many enemies. Lucky for us, I entered a contest and won a free scholarship to Channing Prep, my new private middle school. I was so excited! It was a private school, yet we didn’t have to wear uniforms, and it was one of the top middle schools in New York City, my favorite city. Well, it was also my home city, so that’s probably why I loved it so much. We lived right next to Times Square in a little apartment, just my mom, dad, and me. I had my own room, my own bathroom, great food in the house, the best clothes… you get the idea. What could be better than that? The only thing that could get better would be if I actually had a friend. But that’s why I was going to Channing Prep. To make lots of friends. And I was going to meet tons of new people. Right?

Was she deaf or something? I felt my arms twirling around in perfect and effortless circles as my long hair brushed against my arms. This was making me upset. “MOM!” I screamed.

“I know, sweetie, I’m coming,” she said in an annoyed tone. We were pretty alike. We both hated being rushed, especially when we were putting on makeup, doing our hair, or getting an outfit out. We also both loved sushi and noodles, and I was born on her birthday. We both love the color yellow, but not on my braces and not on my nails, and even though we love yellow, we hate mustard. So, we were definitely alike. And I loved it that way!

For this special day, my ensemble was my favorite white tube top, a beige cardigan, my favorite ripped acid-wash jeans from Hollister, and my new Air Force Ones. I looked into the mirror and saw me. Green eyes, long sandy blonde hair, a small nose, naturally red lips, sparkly clean silver braces, and my pale yellow backpack. That’s how I saw myself. But other kids just saw me as… the different kid. But it didn’t matter what other people thought of me. Did it? 

Either way, I was ecstatic to start the new school year! I had already narrowed down the possible possibilities of all the cliques I could fit into; there were the popular kids, the fashionable kids, the smart kids that are still popular, and the volleyball team. But there was also the possible possibility that I would be with the geeks in the back of the cafeteria, right next to the garbage cans. But probably not. 

Mom said to stay optimistic, but Dad said to not get my hopes up because there is a possible possibility that I might not make friends on the first day. What a downer. Seriously though, it drives me nuts! Dad says one thing, Mom says another! I don’t know which side to believe! That kind of stuff gets me super anxious. Great, now my arms were circling even more, and they were becoming jagged. I looked at my hair. I saw one single hair out of place. Uh-oh. Not this again. If you hadn’t already guessed, I have autism. And OCD. But I think I manage them okay. But at that moment, I was in super obsessive mode. How could I not have been? It was the first day of school and my hair was a mess! I had to fix this.

I picked up my brush and ran it through my silky hair. It was even silkier than normal because I used two handfuls of conditioner. What? I needed my hair to be looking extra good! I used the technique that Rachel taught me. Rachel’s my therapist. She teaches me different techniques to calm me down if I have an attack. They work really well too. She taught me to slow my breathing, close my eyes, and tell myself that everything is going to be okay. So, I listened to my breathing and waited until it was nice and slow, then I closed my eyes. Everything is going to be okay. This is your first day of school, and you're going to make so many new friends, I told myself. I took a deep breath. Ahhh. I felt 10 times better already!

That’s one of my rules. I can’t say any odd numbers, or else my whole world might collapse. A lot of people think that I’m just being a drama queen, but it will happen if I forget. Which reminds me of another rule. I can’t forget anything. If I forget, what if no one reminds me? I can’t let that happen on my watch. And with the numbers rule, I guess I kind of got that from my birthday. My birthday in numbers is 4/4/2008. So, I’m twelve years old right now. That’s another rule. When I turn an odd number, I just say I’m still the same age. So, when I turn the next number (I can’t say it or else the whole world will collapse around me), I will say I am still twelve. And when I turn fourteen, then I can say that I’m fourteen.

If you can’t tell, I’m also really good with numbers. I can count to 1,000,000 without a doubt. Well, I have to count by twos in order to reach 1,000,000. But, if you think about it, counting by twos is harder than counting by, um… the other number before that. Every single number just flows so easily across the pencil scratching on my perfectly white paper, and it just glides across my tongue when I say the answer. I love math! I really don’t know why everyone despises it so much! Oh, well.

Ugh! Finally! Mom had just scurried upstairs, with a neat bun perched on top of her head and an apron, tied with a perfect bow. “It’s time to go sweetie!” she sang. “So, are you excited, nervous; where’s your head at right now, hon?”

“Super excited!” I squealed.

“So tell me,” she said with a serious expression on her tired face. “What are all of the possible possibilities for your first day?”

“Oh, there are just so many fantastic ones! I can’t even decide,” I thought out loud. “But my absolute favorite cliques that I want to be in is most definitely the volleyball team, or the popular, but still nice people,” I added, “Don’t worry, Mom! I would never forget about the four B’s to survive school! Be nice, be helpful, be optimistic, and be the best you can be,’’ I recited. “I have got this!”

“Ooh, you’re too sweet,” Mom cooed. “But, we need to start going! You’re gonna be la-”

She cut off her last word. Late. My least favorite word. I couldn’t be late! I started to feel my whole room crumble around me. I felt mom hugging me. No, it couldn’t be her hugging me. The room must be caving in around me. The colors of my yellow room started to swirl around and around. The white dresser swirled in with the gold picture frame. The light grey comforter mixed in with the white and yellow polka dot blanket. I started sweating and my arms were waving around in shapes I didn’t even know. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I started to feel lightheaded, when suddenly, I heard Mom. “Sweetheart! Sweetie, it’s me. Do what Rachel taught you! Come on, deep breath, ground your feet,” she instructed.

I did as I was told. I took a slow and steady breath. I looked at my feet until I noticed that there wasn’t a black hole underneath me. I wasn’t falling down Alice’s bunny hole. I wasn’t that bunny that I hated as a little girl in the Alice in Wonderland movie, the one that was always… not on time. I was right here, in my room, where I belonged. “Oh, sweetie! I am so sorry,” she apologized. And I knew she meant it. “It just popped out of my mouth and I-”

“It’s fine, Mom,” I cut her off. “I’m okay now.”

I really wasn’t okay, but what else could I say? I’m horrible, Mom, can’t you see that I’m drenched in sweat? No, I could never say that. I took one more steadying breath, hands still shaking uncontrollably, then swung my pale yellow backpack over my shoulder, and headed to the car, Mom trotting to keep up because of my fast pace. She was right. I couldn’t be… not on time. I glanced back at her. She looked distressed, which didn’t make sense to me. Usually, after every one of my freakouts, she always has a smile on her face once I feel better. And she’s supposed to be the optimistic and positive one in the family. But, I couldn’t think of that right now. I had to focus on the good things. Mostly all of the possible possibilities for the first day were good. Well, I thought so.

We all hopped into our tiny red Mitsubishi that we had had for as long as I could remember. Her name is Wanda. Yeah. It’s kind of weird. Obviously, Dad named it. Mom and I wouldn’t be caught dead trying to name that thing. And of all names, Wanda? Come on Dad! In case you hadn’t already noticed, he’s the weird one in the family. When I try to come up with possible possibilities for him, there are just too many. And for once, that’s a bad thing. Even though I love him, I sometimes wonder why Mom, being so effortlessly beautiful and kind, married Dad, being so effortlessly weird and strange. I honestly don’t know what goes on in his mind.

After a car ride that seemed to last forever, I finally stepped out of the car. We were here! Channing Prep! The air smelled cleaner, the grass was well groomed, and the kids were in lines of 16, everyone about 16 inches apart, and 16 lines. It was perfect! Dad gazed at the perfectly kept lawn. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he nodded as he fist bumped me. “I mean, look at this lawn! It’s all the same length, every single blade is bright green, I mean, you can’t get any better,” he chortled. This summer, the grass was doing really well in the backyard. He went through a phase where he made poetry about grass. Just grass. It wasn’t pretty.

“Okay, Dad,” I cowered as I covered my face. He is so embarrassing! “I’m gonna go now, so… you guys can just, go now.”

They didn’t move. “I said, you guys can go now.”

They just looked at me. “Oh, my God, just shoo!” I exclaimed as quietly as I could. 

“Oh, right!” they both said after a good two seconds. “Yeah we’re just gonna go now, so… yeah, okay, bye!”

Ughh! Did they not know anything? Seriously!

Finally. It was time. I started to walk in, step by step. Second step, fourth step, sixth step… I couldn’t believe it. I was actually doing it! I walked into the building and was met by hundreds of people. There were so many students, going to class effortlessly, not caring about what others thought. Well, it was too bad for me because I did care. 

I gazed at the hallway. It looked long, neverending. It definitely didn’t smell the same as outside. It smelled like a mix of Paris Love perfume and deodorant. In other words, it smelled like a chemistry experiment. The girls and the boys both mixed in with each other’s scents. It was kind of disgusting.

After standing on the spot for a minute, a girl came up to me. She had chestnut brown eyes, a great outfit, dirty blonde hair, and a smirk for a smile. I breathed in. The lavender Mario Badescu spray! I had that one too! She had a whole posse behind her. I started to do my happy motions again. I bumped my fists into my knees, again and again. This is where I fit in. I could just feel it. The girl stopped in front of me. “Hey!” she greeted me. “Are you new?”

Oh my God, was it that obvious? “Uh,” I stuttered. “Yeah, h-how could you t-tell?”

The girls giggled. “Well, I mean,” she started as she looked at me with a sly look in those chestnut brown eyes. “You are standing in the middle of the hallway looking lost.”

Ugh. I was already known as the new girl. My happy motion soon turned into my not so happy motion. I felt my arms move up and start to go into tight, neat circles.

“Uh, what are you doing?” she asked. Her smile turned into a frown that stared me down.

“W-what do you mean? I-I’m not doing anything.” Well, this was not going well. “What are you doing?” I said as I scrambled to fix my arm movements. I was trying to use a technique that Dad taught me to catch them off guard, and they would be confused, and forget about the whole situation. But it only made it worse. Why did I even trust him in the first place? I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. Dang it, Dad!

“I’m watching your arms go everywhere,” she answered cooly. “What are you, an oversized toddler?”

And just then, I noticed that she was not the only one hearing this pathetic conversation. All of the people that were still in the hallway were watching me. I saw green eyes, brown eyes, blue eyes, dark eyes, light eyes, I think I even saw some red and purple eyes. All of them staring right at me. I started to hyperventilate. No, no, no, no, no. Just take deep breaths. Your good, your fine. You know that you're better than her. She is just working through some insecurities right now, and so, she’s firing up because she is scared of them. Yeah, that’s all it is, I thought to myself. I took one more steadying breath, and then I was back. The girl and her posse, and basically the whole entire hallway was staring at me because I had just had one of my little attacks. They were laughing and pointing towards me. I didn’t know what to do. So, instead of sticking around so I could get taunted even more, I ran to my next class, shoving people out of the way just so that I could get away from that horrible experience.

I arrived in Algebra 1A, my advanced math class right as the bell rang. I sat down right as the intercom turned on. It said the usual announcements, the ones that they say on every intercom at every school. But today, at the end of the announcements, they said in a candy-like voice that sounded sticky and sweet, “Harper Garrent, please come to the school office.” 

Huh? Why me? As I pushed my chair back and stood up, I felt my arms swirling in circles again and my cheeks turning bright red. No, it was probably just to welcome me to school. Was it just me, or did it feel like the thermostat was just turned on to 100 degrees? I started walking towards the office. Step by step by step.

About a bajillion years later, I arrived at the office. It was a small room with pictures of student’s art. There was the nurse’s office to the left, the counselor's office to the right, and the principal’s office down the hall. They all had little signs on the doors indicating their jobs and room numbers.

“Hi, can I help you, hon?” the secretary greeted. I read her label on the desk. Her name was Mrs. Catry. She looked ancient, like she had been around since the American Revolutionary War. Her hair was white as snow. It glinted from the rays of sunshine raining down on her from the square window. The sun started to shine down on me. It felt like warm butter.

“Hon?” Mrs. Catry requested again. Oops! I literally just forgot I was even here because I was so busy admiring the perfectly straight rays of sunshine.

“Oh, um, yeah I was called down here, on the intercom,” I hurriedly said as I kept twiddling with the rip in my jeans, while taking breaks to have more arms circles. After two arms circles, I would twiddle with my ripped jeans for four seconds.

“Oh, are you Harper Garrent?” she asked, inspecting my movements, staring at me over  her desk.

“Yes,” I replied. Why the heck was I here?

“Okay, sweetie, Mr. Weber will see you shortly,” she smiled. “You can wait in his office if you would like!”

“Uh, o-okay.”

Why in the world did I need to be in the principal’s office? Did I do something wrong? I took a few breaths. I needed to calm down. This probably wasn’t even a big deal. Finally, Mr. Weber came in. 

“Hi, Harper!” he said.

“Hi,” I dryly answered. I needed to get to the point. I couldn’t wait any longer. “Excuse me, but why am I here?”

“Oh, right,” he remembered. “Well, I don’t know if there has been a mixup or if you forgot to read the student handbook, but you are violating our school’s dress code.”

“What do you mean?” I questioned. “What am I wearing that I’m not supposed to be wearing?”

“Your shirt,” he stated plainly.

“My shirt?” I wondered out loud. “You mean my tube top? What’s wrong with it?”

“Well, you have to have straps. But not spaghetti straps either. Your sleeves have to be at least two inches long,” he explained. “And seeing that you don’t have any sleeves, you are violating the dress code.”

Oh my God. How could I not have thought of this? I thought of all of the possible possibilities, yet not this? I was so stupid. But, it’s okay. I couldn’t let that ruin my day! 

“So, we will have to give you a T-shirt from the lost-and-found in the meantime,” he clarified. No. This couldn’t happen. Not to me. All of the stuff in the lost-and-found were just sweaty gym shirts and dirty socks. He handed me a bin of T-shirts. Ugh. Worst. First. DAY! But it couldn’t get any worse… right?

It turns out, it didn’t. I grabbed a spare gym T-shirt, tied it to make it cute, and put my other shirt in my backpack. I went through the whole day without a single remark from the other students, which was probably a good thing. I went home with the mean girls comments still stuck in my head, and plopped down onto my lavender bean bag chair. After a while, Mom peeked through the crack in the doorway. I caught her eye and she walked in.

“So,” Mom began, excitedly. “How was your first day?”

“Um,” I stammered.

“Well?” she asked with an expectant face. “I-it was great, wasn’t it?”

She started to bite her top lip. Uh oh. That meant that she was getting really worried. I couldn’t tell her that I had a bad day. I could just picture her eyes getting as full as puddles. No, I guess I just wouldn’t tell the truth. Or at least, I wouldn’t tell all of it.

“Uh, yeah, it was fantastic!” I lied in a fake cheery tone. I tried to smile. She looked at me weird. Sometimes when I try to smile but I’m upset, I do this strange, lopsided smile. I quickly stopped smiling. “There was one thing though.” I couldn’t hide this fact from today. Way too hard. “I did get dress coded. For my tube top.”

She had a stern look on her face. Finally, she replyed, “Oh, just dress coded? Well, that’s not a big deal! But everyone was nice? No mean girls, I hope.”

Her expectant look returned. “No,” I answered hesitantly as I shook my head.

She looked at me for a good, hot second. “Okay,” she responded. “Well, that’s good, right?”

“Yeah.”

A few weeks later, I still hadn’t made a single friend. I mean, I was friendly to everyone, I made sure that I would say hi to everyone in the halls, everything. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. And on top of that, the day before, I found out that the mean girl (who I found out was named Tori), had somehow found out about me having OCD and autism. Apparently the principal is her godfather or something like that and Tori probably wormed it out of him. Literally everyone knows. It’s horrible because it is almost as if no one wants to be my friend just because of that! Whenever people find out that I have OCD and autism, it suddenly defines me. And I hate that. Although, a few people seem to have started to like me. The only thing is, it’s only because I have the best clothes and makeup. I wish people would see me for me, but I guess I’ll take it. I’ll take anything, at the moment.

But the worst part of all of it was, I couldn’t tell my mom! No, she would freak! And then, I would freak. Then, my mom would say, “You are not going back to school! If there are people bullying you, then we will work it all out!” I didn’t want her to work it all out though. I wanted her to give me a chance first.

But, there was one girl that I did wanna be friends with. Her name was Jenna. She was super smart, always volunteered to be my partner if I didn’t have a partner, and just seemed all around nice! I hoped we could be friends. I was thinking about inviting her over, but I had to work up the courage to ask her first. 

Like, in science one day, we were working on an experiment. I didn’t have a partner, and I noticed that Jenna already did. I groaned to myself. Please don’t let me be alone, please! I thought to myself. But after a few minutes of arm circles and failed deep breaths, Jenna came over to me and asked, “Hey, do you not have a partner, Harper? Because if you want, you can join Wendy and me’s group!”

Ugh, you do not know how thankful I was! I immediately said yes and strided over to their table. Isn’t she so nice? I just wished that all people here were nice.

The next day, I go to school thinking that I would figure everything out with Tori. I was just going to go up to her, right in her face, and say, “You shouldn’t have told people about my OCD and autism. But guess what? I don’t care because I am proud. I am smart, capable, and way nicer than you, and if it takes you a kid to bully in order to check yourself, then I feel sorry for you.” Also, I would say all of that really confidently. I mean, how hard could it be?

I got to school with butterflies in my stomach. They seemed to fly around and around, buzzing with nervousness. I pinched my stomach. “Stop!” I whispered to my stomach. “You’re only making this worse!”

They seemed to only get even more awful.

I arrived at my locker only a few minutes later. Tori’s locker was right across from mine, so it should’ve been easy. I took a few deep breaths. I slowed my breathing. Even if Tori didn’t understand, I didn’t care! Did I?

After what seemed like hours of endless preparation, Tori arrived at her locker, her posse following close behind. I walked up to her and once I got close, I froze. What was I going to say again? Oh right! Now just say it. “You… you shouldn’t have told people about m-my OCD and, um, autism,” I said feebly. Not exactly what I was going for, but still, I said it! 

She looked at me. “Excuse me, did someone say something, or am I hearing ghosts?” she snickered. Her whole group surrounding her started to laugh. I had to say something. Quick!

“Um, I-I said, uh, you… you shouldn’t have told people about my OCD and autism,” I repeated, a little stronger this time.

“Uhh, okay, loser,” she replied.

And right at that second, all of my anger came forward, and to my mouth. “Why are you so mean to me?!” I blurted out angrily. “I didn’t even do anything to you and you have just made a mission to ruin my life!”

“I can’t deny it, when I see a threat, I get rid of it,” she shrugged. Wait. Hold the phone. A threat? So, she saw me as a threat, and she thought that I would steal her spotlight? Oh, this all just made too much sense now.

“Wait, so you see me as a threat to you?” I asked, completely lost. She looked so angry that she could punch me square in the face. And then, she did.

I felt a fist slam across my face, and lights exploded in front of my eyes. I was on the ground just laying there. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t possibly regain my balance. Suddenly, Tori’s face was right up in mine, and she was pinning me down. She whispered, “Never mess with me again, Garrent.” And everything went black.

I opened my eyes to see my very own room. I tilted my head a little and saw my mom right beside me, gazing at me with red-rimmed and puddled eyes. “Oh, sweetie,” she exclaimed. “You’re finally awake! Do you remember anything?” And then all of my memories came flooding back to me.

“Yes,” I replied. Every word I said made my head pound. I gently touched my eye, where Tori had punched me. It felt puffy and I suddenly became aware of the fact that I couldn’t see out of the puffy eye, and there was thick, wet blood trickling down my lip, into my mouth. 

“Oh, let me get you some ice and a wet washcloth to mop that up.” She stood up and walked out of the room. 

I grabbed my little hand mirror beside my bed. I looked at my reflection. I had a black eye and my top lip was streaming with blood. I tried to look at the bright side. That’s what mom would want me to do. At least my black eye was perfectly colored in. And it was a perfect circle as well. My lip would be cleaned up soon, and there would barely be a cut! Yes, I was fine. All good.

I decided to take the next day of school off. I was just mad at everyone and needed  a day to cool off. I was mad at mom because I kept saying I was fine, but she wouldn’t give me any privacy. I was mad at my dad because he kept giving me scared and strange looks. If I’m being honest, it kind of freaked me out. 

Most of the day I just watched TV, ate ice cream and leftover Chinese food, and thought. I thought about a lot of stuff. I thought about how Tori is suspended, if Jenna and I were friends, what the next day at school was gonna be like. I even thought about how good the Chinese was even though it was leftover. But yeah, Tori was suspended. I mean, I guess she deserves it, but I still feel kinda bad. I pretty much embarrassed her, and in front of a lot of people too. But she embarrassed me on the first day of school, so weren’t we fair?

The next day at school, I walked up the fourteen steps up to the school. I had put the most skin tone Band-aid on my cut lip that I could find. It looked kind of weird, but hopefully people just thought it was battle scars… or something. I trudged to my locker, and for once, I put my head down, and I even slumped my back a little bit too! Can you believe that? Usually, I always walk through the halls with great posture and my head held high. Not today.

I noticed everyone looking at me. Usually, I like it when everyone looks at me because I love the attention, but not today. I had thought up all of the possible possibilities for today. Everyone could think that I was a hero, or they would think I was a loser. For once, there were only two possible possibilities. And I couldn’t stand that. My arms started circling again. I noticed that the kids weren’t applauding me. They were laughing. What? Why were they laughing? I didn’t like this. Not at all.

They all held out their phones. It was all playing a video. But not just any video. It was about me. It was a video of the fight. It was an animation. When Tori punched me, it looked like my head fell off. Then it said in big letters at the top of the screen, “Headless Harper”. This was horrible. I felt like horrible Harper. I had to find out who would do this.

“This is great, Jenna!” one kid said.

“Yeah, this is hilarious!” another kid laughed.

I looked at who they were talking to, and sure enough, it was her. Jenna. I strided right to where she was until I was inches from her face. “Did you post this?” I snarled through gritted teeth.

“What?” she questioned as if she didn’t have a clue. “Oh this? No, Harper, listen to me! You’re my friend, I would never hurt you, you’ve gotta listen to me.”

But I was done listening. My eyes felt wet even though I was more angry at her than I was upset. A tear rolled down my cheek, rolling over my huge, puffy eye. “I thought we were becoming friends,” I murmured through my tears. “But I guess not, huh?”

“No, you don’t understand!” she exclaimed desperately.

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” I replied cooly. “I understand that you tricked me into becoming your friend just so that you could use me like a hand puppet, just to get all of this. All of this popularity. You, Jenna Cravich, are a bad person. I don’t know how I ever could have fallen under your spell.”

“No, wait please!” she called after me. “Harper, wait!”

I couldn’t wait any longer though. I had waited every single day of my life. My biggest wish was just for someone to accept me. But I obviously wasn’t going to find it here. I just wasn’t good enough for anyone. And people usually would really like me. But then they would find out about my burden. The big let-down. My autism and OCD. And suddenly, they just acted weird around me, or didn’t want to be my friend anymore. I just didn’t get it. Why did this all have to be so hard for me?

I put my head down, thoughts swarming inside my head like bugs. I hated bugs. I tried to reach into my brain, but my fingers wouldn’t go through my skull. I needed to get them out. But they just wouldn’t let up. It only made them angrier. They hissed more and more, buzzing with sounds like, “You aren’t good enough,” and “Nobody will ever accept you, you’re pathetic.”

And they were right.

The next few weeks were rough. I went through it without a friend, snide remarks from Tori and some of the other kids, and no possible possibilities forming in my still buzzing mind. I now felt guilty instead of mad at Jenna. I shouldn’t have said any of those things. They just popped out. I was thinking about apologizing, but I was just so scared. What if she didn’t feel the same way and she was still mad at me? I wouldn’t blame her. I said some really rude stuff to her that I shouldn’t have said. But even though I was still kind of angry at her, I couldn't help it that I wanted to be her friend.

After a few weeks of thinking and wondering, I finally worked up the courage to apologize. I felt exactly like I did when I tried to talk to Tori. I had dozens of butterflies in my stomach, fighting to fly out. Why did this always happen? Those stupid butterflies.

I got to Jenna’s locker, waited for a bit, and then I saw her. Oh jeez, these butterflies were really killing me. She walked up to me. “Hey,” she said dryly.

Okay, well, at least she said something to me! That’s an accomplishment! I felt my arms twirling like crazy. “Uh, hi!” I greeted her. “Um… I know I was super rude to you.”

“Yeah, you sure were,” she replied.

“Uh, yeah I know.” What was I supposed to say now? “Um, let me just spit this out. I’m really, really sorry. Do you forgive me?”

She looked up at me. She smiled. “Of course I do!” she exclaimed after a bit of hesitation. I wasn’t satisfied.

“I just-I just have to know though.” Ugh! I didn’t know how to phrase this. I didn’t want to force her to apologize or anything, but I wanted to  know if she was sorry too. Otherwise, she might not be the friend for me. “Are you sorry too?” I blurted out.

“What do you mean?” she asked. Oh no. But then, she started speaking again. “Well, what I was going to explain to you before you stormed off, was that I didn’t post the video to go off on you or anything. I posted it under Tori’s posse’s Youtube channel. Yeah, I hacked into it, posted the video, and prayed and hoped that the principal would not only get Tori in trouble, but also her posse. Before they all turned mean, I was best friends with them. When they got bad, I left them for a different group. They bullied me too. I wanted payback,” she explained.

“But how did people know it was you?” I questioned. I raised my eyebrow. I was getting suspicious.

“I honestly have no clue. I did do it in the library so maybe someone was looking over my shoulder and saw me doing it,” she told me, dumbfounded. “Somehow, word got out, and that was that,” she shrugged. “Do you believe me?”

Did I? “Of course I believe you!” I decided. Oh, what a relief! We were finally friends again. But I knew there was one more thing that I had to do.

Jenna and I walked slowly over to Tori’s locker. I suddenly realized that my arms weren’t swinging wildly anymore. In fact, they weren’t doing anything at all! I felt confident. I felt like me, for the first time in weeks, maybe even months. The only possible possibilities of this moment were, I could get punched again, Tori would suddenly be nice and say sorry, I might chicken out at any second, or she wouldn’t even do anything at all. What? That was always a possible possibility, for every situation. 

After a walk that lasted for a million years, we got to Tori’s locker. I eyed her and her whole group. We suddenly caught eyes. “Huh, even after a good punch and a knockout, I guess you just never learn, do you?” she threatened as she cracked her knuckles.

“I’m not here to fight,” I replied with a voice that was more confident than how I felt. “I’m here to talk. Just talk.”

“Okay…?” she uttered. It seemed as if she wasn’t used to talking.

“Listen. I don’t really know why you’ve never liked me, but I just want to make amends. Will you forgive me for whatever I even did?”

“Uh, why would I do that?” she scoffed. 

“Because, you could be nice. I know you could,” I revealed to her. “You just have to find that little spark inside you, and look at all of the possible possibilities there are for you to become.”

“Ew, I’d rather work at a soup kitchen!” she grimaced after a split second of hesitation.

Jenna and I looked at each other. “Your loss!” Jenna exclaimed. We looked at each other and laughed. My fists bumped up against my knees. We strided off to our next class. Out of all of the possible possibilities I thought of, this is one that I never would have even dreamt of. But for once, I was okay with that.

Even though I hated Tori’s guts, and still do, now I suddenly realize that sometimes, you have to go through the rainstorm before you reach the rainbow. And finally, I had reached the rainbow. Now, it was time to find the pot of gold.