"Make friends with my daughter, and I'll pay you a thousand dollars."
Tara's junior year of high school is turned upside down after she collides into the life of Aurora Rosenberg, the autistic teenage heiress to Rosenberg Technologies. Mr. Rosenberg...
"...and it turns out it was her in the frog costume all along!" I tell the group of friends. I'm sitting in the cafeteria with Aurora, Dawn, Gabe, Adam, and Debra.
Aurora claps as she rocks back and forth. "Wow! I never would have guessed!"
"You tell really good stories, Tara!" Adam says.
I blush. "Thanks! I just know a lot of interesting people."
"You're interesting too, Tara!" Dawn says. "Hey, wanna come to my sleepover this weekend? It's gonna be EPIC!"
"I've heard Dawn's sleepovers are amazing," Adam remarks. "Apparently they involve games, makeovers, movies, and a lot of fun."
"I'd love to go, Dawn!" I say.
"Yay!" Dawn says.
"I'm really looking forward to it," I continue. "I should probably check my homework load, though. Calc is killing me."
"Oh, no!" Aurora says. "Don't die!"
"Figuratively," I reassure her. "My chances of survival are close to 100%."
"Oh, that's good!" she says.
And it hits me... My survival chances are probably lower than average. I could have a relapse. The doctors never ruled it out, and said I needed to lead a low-stress lifestyle just to be sure. And sometimes, relapses kill.
I take a deep breath. Come on! Stay positive! You're probably going to survive! You're probably going to be safe! But what if...
"Is she okay...?" Aurora murmurs.
I'll be okay. I'll be okay. My life has changed since before my diagnosis. I know what to watch for. I have people in my corner. At home and at school. The guidance counselor knows about my situation...
"Oh no!" I cry. "The guidance counselor!"
Aurora jumps. "What's wrong?"
"I'm going to be late!" I exclaim. "I have a meeting with the guidance counselor!"
"Go!" Aurora says. "I'll save your cookies!"
I nod in thanks and dash out of the cafeteria.
I burst into Mrs. Albert's office, panting, stray curly hairs exploding out around my face. I struggle to catch my breath and inhale the faint scent of paint.
"Sorry... I'm... late..." I gasp.
"Don't worry about it, Tara!" Mrs. Albert is holding a palette of paints with shades of yellow, orange, and red. At first I wonder what she's painting, and then I realize that there's no canvas. She's painting the leaves of a fake plant. "You gave me time to work on painting this plant for my husband."
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[Image description: Tara, bent over as she catches her breath from running, stands in Mrs. Albert's office. Mrs. Albert is a tall middle-aged East Asian lady wearing a wacky outfit full of bright red, yellow, and orange patterns. Her black hair is shaved close to her head, and she wears bright red lipstick with a smile. Her office has some posters, including one that says "A happy life is based on what makes YOU happy." ]
