Prologue: Assimilation

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PROLOGUE: ASSIMILATION

 Ethan POV

 Her dainty little fingers played around with the daisies that were beginning to sprout in the ground. She tugged on a couple of the creamy white flowers, until finally, she landed on her bottom with a loud thump, her hands waving in the air. She was holding the daisies triumphantly.

 I let out a small chuckle. She was always this clumsy.

 She turned her green eyes on me, and gazed fixedly. She was so pretty, like a rose come alive.

 “Ethan?” she whispered.

 “Yes?” I replied.

 “I hate grade five... Nobody really likes me. I don’t have any friends.”

 She looked at me pleadingly, and I felt so guilty inside. It was my entire fault she didn’t have many friends. I was the King of Losers. Nobody who was anybody liked me. I didn’t own designer jeans, I didn’t play any sports, I always hung out with only Mia.

 “Yes, you do. You have me,” I responded with a sad look in my eyes. I knew what was coming next.

 Her eyes wandered over the other side of the lush green field. A large circle of popular girls were hanging out together, throwing their heads back with laughter, and pointing at a short boy in suspenders.

 “I like them. I want to get to know them,” she said, pointing a finger in their direction.

 “We’ve talked about this so many times, Mia... They don’t like us. They don’t want to get to know us.”

 She glared at me. Inside, my heart was thumping, and I didn’t know what to do. Did I say something wrong?

 “It’s your fault I have no friends. You’re wrong,” she pointed out, standing up. “They don’t like you. They don’t want to get to know you. I’m a different person. They will like me, you’ll see.”

 “Middle school starts next year, Mia. And if you want to get another chance at being friends with those people, you can. I don’t want anything to do with anyone that’ll ditch me for some random popular gang. I don’t care what you do,” I shot back, the guilt inside my heart long gone.

 She was brimming with tears. “Y-you wouldn’t l-leave me al-alone, would you?”

 “If that’s what you want, I will. If you want to be with them, you’re going to have to leave me.”

 We were now both standing up, and I was towering above her. She looked intimidated.

 “Maybe that’s exactly what I want. I don’t want to be like you. I want my friends to be fun, not losers like you.”

 By now, both of us were on the brink of crying. I was going to make middle school better for both of us. She could be popular, and I’d try to make friends too. Maybe then she’d come back.

 But for now, there was no turning back. And definitely no retracing the steps I made when I walked away from her. 

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