I sat closed-lipped in my brother’s car. He’d try to make eye contact every once in a while, but I evaded it.

  “So how was school?” Juaquin asked as we drove past large chateaus and big mansions from the nice neighborhoods.

  We have the metal gates and white walls of our neighborhood. It almost felt like a prison there but it was home. We lived in an apartment complex not too far from a small park. It was our sole source of entertainment, and my younger brother liked it there.

  Juaquin glanced at my binder. It had a tear near the middle and, despite being new, wasn’t going to last much longer.

  “What happened to your binder, Myra?”

  I sighed and tugged it closer to me. “I fell on it,” I lied. My family didn’t know about my school problems, and it was better this way.

  Maryanne: Why not tell him? He could help us.

  Strength: Yeah, your brother is bigger and worse than that puny kid.

  Mark: I concur. We should tell him.

  Jack: What have we got to lose?

  My dignity?

  Maryanne: Is dignity so important to you?

  Yes. Yes, it was. I didn’t want my brother or mother to solve my problems. I could handle it.

  I’d copy all my homework from now on. If I could, I’d avoid tripping. I touched my still bruised lip and like an eagle, my brother zeroed in on it.

  “Was that from your fall?” He asked, pressing the beeper to open the metal gates to the apartment complex.

  I nodded and brought my hand down. I looked at my brother. We had the same dark curly hair and dark eyes, but he was a good eight inches taller than me. He was big, too, and far stronger than me.

  Maryanne: Myra? Don’t you think we could use his help?

  Strength: Yeah! That pipsqueak won’t mess with us anymore.

  Mark: You won’t have to do double the homework.

  Jack: Let your bro teach Jonah a thing or two about treating people!

  No! Leave it!

  We didn’t enter. My brother turned to me. He could probably sense how my day really went down. He kept staring at me.

  “I’ve got the day free of classes. Want a ride?”

  I smiled and nodded. I never turned down a car ride. He pressed the beeper, closing the gates before he reversed and we took off through the neighborhood.I watched as the neighborhood shifted from small houses to sprawling mansions. That always left me in awe of them and what it must be like living in one.

  Maryanne: Glorious!

  Strength: Freeing.

  Mark: I think it would be oppressive. Most people with big money are jerks.

  Jack: Katilia, anyone?

  Maryanne: That is true. We have to follow customs and manners.

  Strength: That ain’t so bad.

  Jack: For someone who likes the freedom of sweatpants and loose shirts, it is. We’d have to dress up every day!

  Definitely not my thing. It’s better to look at them from afar. Yes, they were pretty, but I prefer my family over money any day.

  We drove past the houses and into the wilderness. We soon found a nice cascade to sit beside and watch. The water wasn’t crystal clear, but hearing the tinkering upon the rocks below was nice, like wind chimes on a breezy day. Leaves fell into the cascade’s swirling waters as a cool breeze blew. The scent of clean water and wet rocks cleared my head.

  My brother gave me a one-armed hug and squeezed my shoulders. I clung to his cotton shirt and sniffed but no more than that. Why? Why did it have to be me? Didn’t I have enough problems already? What did I do to deserve this? I know I’m not normal but I want to be!

  Maryanne: Myra, normal is overrated

  Strength: Yeah, normal is boring.

  Mark: What is normal? Who defines what normal is?

  Jack: Yeah, who says we aren’t part of your normal?

  I don’t know, but you aren’t normal no matter what you say! I turned to my brother and smiled.

  “I feel better, Juaquin.”

  He ruffled my hair. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I can handle it. Jonah’s a bully and probably won’t pick on me again after finding out how bad I am at math.”

  “Math?” He wrinkled his nose.

  “He stole my math homework.”

  Juaquin chuckled. “I feel sorry for him then. You suck at math. If it were English, he’d get top marks, but math? You better hope he’s not rampaging.”

  “He stole the homework! I may look like a nerd, but I’m not.”

  “Yeah, you used to be good at math and science. You need to get rid of the mental blocks, Myra.”

  I crossed my arms and leaned back in my car seat. “I’d be cured if it was that easy.” I looked at the cascade. At that moment, sunlight struck the water, the light fracturing into thousands of glistening shards. “I’m ready to go.”

  We drove back to the apartment complex in silence. I didn’t doubt Juaquin would tell Mama there was a bully at school now, and I felt helpless about it.

  Maryanne: This is better! Don’t you feel better?

  Strength: I still think we shoulda let him help.

  Mark: One step at a time, Strength. At least she told him about the bully.

  Jack: What Mark said, although I do agree with Strength. Juaquin should clean Jonah’s clock out.

  Guys, I can handle it. At least his highness won’t bother me about homework anymore.

  Jack: Not if he wants to pass his classes.

  Maryanne: Jack, that was mean!

  Mark: But true.

  Maryanne: Mark!

  Strength: Dudes are right.

  Maryanne: Strength!

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Strength: Ya baby her too much, Maryanne.

  Maryanne: Do not!

  They were at it again, and I was glad to be home and in my room. I glanced out my window at the graying clouds. The smell of rain might end up messing up my plans.I hoped not because Miguel had wanted to go to the park today after school, and I promised him we could.I couldn’t control the weather but hoped the clouds would hold off until this evening.

  I lay on my bed, and a rustling from my pocket caught my attention. I pulled out the flier for the Halloween bash and stared at it. Wasn’t this the place to start if I wanted to be normal? But a party? They exhausted me mentally and emotionally, not to mention the loud music drove me nuts. Why had I picked up the flier from the school hallway? It wasn’t like I was going, was it?

  I shook my head and placed the flier on my clean nightstand. Notebooks and papers, usually piled sky-high, were now stuffed inside the closet. That was me cleaning my room.

  Jack: “Do too! You baby Myra!”

  Maryanne: Stop ganging up on me!

  I left them to their squabbling and shut my eyes. When I opened them, Miguel’s puppy dog eyes stared at me. He looked like Juaquin, only smaller, and at ten, hadn’t had his growth spurt yet.

  “Can we go to the park now, Myra?” He asked, widening his eyes.

  I smiled and nodded. “Let me grab my bag, Mige.” I grabbed my bookbag off the door hook, hoisted it over my shoulders, and we left.

  As we walked towards the front door, we smelled the strong smell of fresh onions and pepper and cooking rice. I heard Juaquin humming and chopping to the beat of hip-hop. I hated hip-hop. He always took my outings to listen to crappy music. “We’re going to the park,” I shouted.

  “Be careful, both of you!” he said, turning up the burner under the big cooking pot. “Call me if you need anything.”

  I nodded and followed Mige out of the house.

  We greeted the gate guard and walked down the street toward the park. We passed a boarded house. A nice cream-colored place with a trellis encompassed the second floor of the house. Pine trees lined the cracked sidewalk. They were small, Their breezy scent permeated the evening air as the chirping of nesting birds carried on the wind. I grabbed Mige’s hand as we crossed the street and followed a small dirt trail into the park.

  We heard the raucous laughter of kids, and the whistles of the coaches getting them in line. The field was full of kids playing soccer, and Mige ran to join the rowdy bunch. I sat nearby on a rotting bench hoping it could take my weight, and it did easily. Mildew and the scent of wet earth reached my nose, alerting me that rainfall was soon to pass. Above me, the trees stretched their branches towards the graying sky. Cheers sounded as a boy made a goal.

  I sat watching, chewing on my pencil once in a while, and writing down stuff for my essay. Halfway through my paper, my blood froze when a scream coming from the field pierced my ears. I jumped and began to run as my eyes processed the scene in front of me.

  Migue was immobile on the ground. The boy who ran him over was just staring at him.

  The field was in silence.

  I rushed over, knelt, and shook him.

  Nothing.

  I rolled him over, worried, and pressed my head against his chest. That’s when he screamed, startling a scream from me.

  He rolled over, laughing, and sat up. Unamused, I slapped him over the head. He rubbed his head, still chuckling.

  “See if I help you again Mige,” I muttered and turned my head. My eyes met mismatched silver grey and emerald. I froze like a rabbit who had caught the scent of a predator.

  Jonah was clenching his fists but in his eyes, there was a wanting. Not for me but the situation? Does he not have siblings? He can’t have mine!

  Maryanne: I don’t think that’s what he wants Myra.

  Strength: Yeah, it’s sometin else.

  Mark: Yes, I think he wants the connection.

  Jack: Connection to what bro?

  Maryanne: Oh, the familiar connection, right Mark?

  Mark: Yes.

  Why would he want that? Doesn’t he come from one of those mansions? Have a perfect family?

  Maryanne: Coming from money doesn’t guarantee a good family connection.

  Mark: It’s probably the other way around.

  Jack: If he longs for the bond so much he must have some serious probs with the fam.

  Strength: Yeah, but he can’t have Myra’s family!

  Mark: I already said he wants the bond, not the family, Strength.

  He must be lonely. I never thought of him like that. I knew I was lucky to have the family I had, but sometimes I forget that others didn’t have the same.

  He looked away and walked away as Mige turned back to the game. I stood and dusted myself.

  If I remembered what I knew of bullies, then Jonah was probably lashing out because I had something he didn’t, a family. Maybe his family was dead or condescending?

  I didn’t know but it made the picture a little clearer to me now and I felt pity instead of anger at him. I went back to writing my point of view on Romeo and Juliet. Mr. Sentero would be surprised by my point of view! I would certainly stand out in a pile of everlasting love.

  A few wet sprinkles hit the table, and I packed up my notebook. Mige was busy chatting with one of his friends. I was glad that he didn’t have any mental ailments like me and Juaquin. Mige was normal, and Momma didn’t have any trouble with him other than a bit of ADHD, but that was it. Better than being a freak like me.

  Maryanne: You are not a freak, Myra!

  Strength: Yeah, only cause you hear us and have mood swings don’t make you a freak.

  Mark: Strength, you’re being counterproductive here.

  Jack: Yeah. You only told her why she ain’t like everyone else, which isn’t helping.

  I rolled my eyes and went to get Mige as he waved his friends goodbye.“Ready to go?” I asked smiling, as another drop of rain fell.

  “Yeah! Dinner must be done, right? I’m starving! Besides, Jesse is going to the movies anyway.”

  I smiled and took Mige’s hand as we crossed the street. “Really? What’s he going to watch?”

  “Some horror movie. I want to see it too, but mama won’t let me. It’s for older kids. Jesse is watching it with his brother, and he looks seventeen even though he’s like twelve.”

  “Is he the one that ran you over?”

  “I told him to. Needed to play a prank on you.”

  “That was not funny, mister! What if you had gotten hurt for real? Hmm?”

  “We used a wrestling move from class.”

  “Still dangerous,” I said, ruffling his hair. He shrugged off my hand as we walked through the security gates and into the apartment complex. We walked up two flights of stairs, and I opened the door to our apartment and saw Juaquin setting the table.

  Silverware clanked as he set them down. Onions sauteed in bistek and white rice. The smell reached our noses, then our test buds. Yum! It ran through the apartment. My stomach growled. I clung to the cold door knob to stop myself from charging in and begging for food. Miguel had no such qualms.

  “Food!” he yelled and went to serve himself. I chuckled and closed the door.

  An hour after dinner, I was sitting on the couch, books open, when the door handle jiggled. Mama plodded in and hung her purse on the hook behind the door. Being almost winter she still wore no coat, but she walked as if a hundred pounds had been lifted off her. She smiled at Juaquin.

  “Is that Bifsteak I smell?”

  Juaquin nodded and flipped some on a plate for her. “Only the best for my momma.”

  She was a small rotund lady with the brightest smile anyone ever had. I got mine from her.

  “Go change. Juaquin and I got this,” I said, watching Mige who scampered with a plate full of food and a glass of milk. After dinner, she sat beside me on the couch with her Samsung Galaxy Tablet. “How was school, Myra?” she asked, smiling.

  The rustling of Juaquin grading papers filled the tense silence.

  “It was fine,” I lied, hiding my binder from her perusing eyes. She caught the motion and I wanted to hit myself.

  Maryanne: That would just worry her, Myra.

  Strength: Yeah, she’ll guess somtin is wrong anyway she always does.

  Mark: Yes, although how she always knows is beyond me.

  Jack: And me!

  She caught sight of my broken binder and narrowed her eyes. “Things are fine? Why is your binder broken? It’s new and you love it.” It was an untold rule that whatever I loved I protected zealously…and I did love my binder. It was gifted to me with the little money my mom made and it was blue! I rarely found such great deals on blue binders.

  “I fell on it?” I answered knowing I wasn’t fooling anyone.

  “Is that how you got your fat lip, dear?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked at Juaquin and he shook his head. “Myra’s got a bully, mama.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms. Traitor!

  Maryanne: He only wants to help.

  Strength: He ratted us out!

  Mark: To the mother which is worse.

  Jack: That isn’t helping our case, bud!

  Maryanne: Don’t scream Jack, he can’t hear you!

  Mark rubbed his ears annoyed: We can though.

  Strength: Dude chill. You’ll give us a headache with ya’ll screamin like that.

  Jack: Go to hell Strength!

  It seemed like Jack and Strength really didn’t like each other today and my mom was staring at me worriedly. I must have zoned out again.

  “I’m fine. I can handle him. He wanted my math homework and tore my binder a bit to get it, is all.”

  “And the fat lip?” mama asked.

  “He might have tripped me in the halls before English.”

  “Hmm. You tell me if he becomes a nuisance. We can go straight to the proper channels for this, and if not, there are other schools,” she said, eyes flashing dangerously. No one messed with her babies even when they were sixteen and ready to graduate to Senior.

  Bile rose in my throat. There were other schools but none with the writing program Jefferson had. Still, I nodded my head and went back to studying. After a while, I yawned and looked at my watch. Almost ten. I bid my mom and brother good night.

  Mige had already gone to bed. I showered and drank my antipsychotic pills and headed for bed hoping tomorrow would be a better day. The orange neon of the Halloween Party flier glowed in the nightlight reminding me of my non-normal. If fishes were wishes. I closed my eyes against its neon backdrop.