The pills that I take everyday are necessary to my “healing process” as my doctor would say. They tell me that these pills will work but I sure as hell hope they don't. I don’t want some goddamn medicine to cure me. Why do doctors have to act so fake with their medical jargon? I always feel like screaming at them to tell me what they really mean. Why don’t they just come out and say you are sick, you make yourself sick, you are depressed and these pills are going to help you so you don’t kill yourself like your sister did freshman year. I grab the two purple pills from my kitchen counter, my mind rewinds back to my sister’s precious face just as purple as the pills in my hand; her weak body, motionless. I shove them in my mouth and swallow hard without water. I lean against the cool marble countertop to stable myself and I begin to get the sickness again. I can feel hot teardrops fill and blur and burn my eyes as they cut through my colorless cheeks. I guess you could say that I’m used to it by now.

Today is my birthday, a Saturday this year, and I will be spending it exactly how I want--alone. I am officially considered an adult but that makes me so damn depressed. I walk over to the sun-filled window above the sink and open it, as a warm breeze flies passed my long, dark hair and diamond-studded ears. I breathe in deeply and picture myself alone on the beach of some island God knows where. I see my green eyes and my smile, the smile that rarely shows anymore. My name is Jade by the way, like the green metamorphic rock. It’s a dumb name, perfect for a dumb girl.

“Jade I’m going out with your father is that okay with you? I mean you’re not going to be here so we figured you wouldn't mind. We won’t be back until eleven, love you!” My mom yells from the front door.

“Yes, Dana thank you! I love you too.” I laugh to myself.

I love being sarcastic and calling her by her first name because she doesn't care, she's a riot. As soon as I hear the front door shut, I close my eyes, take in one more breath of fresh air, and lock the window. I run upstairs to get ready to go to my favorite place to write: the mall. Writing is my real medication, try telling that to my doctor and see what he says.

East Point mall is overly crowded as I watch the turbulence encompass me. I tighten the straps on my army-green Roxy backpack and rearrange my “Jade” necklace, then I head towards an empty bench in front of the giant fountain with its calming sounds of cold water flowing. I rest my marble composition book on my leg and lean over to notice a smooth penny lying heads up next to my red Converse sneaker. I pick up the penny and finger its rounded edges while thinking about a good wish. For two years now I have been making wishes on pennies and those wishes have drowned in hundreds of fountains. This time I think I’ll keep my wish. I place the penny into my jacket pocket and continue to start a new page in my notebook.

I look up for a moment to think of a first sentence then I freeze. Standing about 10 feet away is the most gorgeous human being I have ever seen in my entire life. Damn. I definitely know what I’m going to write about and it begins with his hazel eyes; a collision of deep green and light brown. His hair, buzzed close to his head compliments his defined jawline. He wears a navy blue t-shirt probably from some website that no one knows about and he’s got on Jordans- all black. His matching snapback fitted onto his head belongs there with its cobalt blue rim facing forward and up in the front. His smile says he isn’t going to pretend and as I stare at him I feel more in sync with his soul. His looks are amazing but after reading him for this long I realize his vibes are impeccable. Something about him is impossible to ignore. Something about staring at him right now gives me hope and that is one thing I haven't felt in a year. I just want to be closer to him. As I write, he still stands in the center of the mall surrounded by movement, talking to another person who blends in with the background. He is oblivious to the envious eyes watching him laugh.This guy seems like the sweetest venom. My eyes drift away from him for a moment because I am so lost in my journal, writing down all the details.

“Hey.”

As I look up, I feel my face freeze. Holy s***. He’s standing right in front of me with those hazel eyes. God, he looks so much better up close. I quickly close my journal and sit up straight attempting to not look like a total psycho who writes about strangers in her secret journal.

“Hey, uh can I steal your pen for a second?”


He asks me this as he looks directly into my eyes and tilts his head a little, waiting for my response. On the inside I am melting away but I am no idiot. I’m not going to let my face show it.

“Yeah, no problem at all.”

Problem? I’m so dumb, obviously it was never a problem in the first place. He probably thinks I’m a b****. This guy is making my head spin I have never had such a loss for words in my entire life.

“Thanks.”

Then it’s over and I am left with a full mind and no pen. I watch him as he makes his way back to his friend and then my heart drops and I feel my insides burn. He takes the pen, my damn pen, and writes his number on the hand of some girl with turquoise nail polish and blue eyes. And that’s when I know I am done for the day. I’m always let down. I get up from the bench and shove my journal into my backpack while making my way to the escalator. He catches me.

“Hey girl, hold up.”

I turn around to see him jogging towards me---pen in hand--- and wow does he look so good. But that only makes me feel worse because even though I wasn’t rejected by him it feels like I was. I never got a chance and now he’s getting farther away from me all because of a gorgeous, blue-eyed girl with turquoise nail polish.

“Yeah?” I mutter.

“Here’s your pen, thanks.” He hands me it and smiles genuinely.

“Oh, you’re welcome.” I say with a smile but mine is forced.

This time he stares harder and I can’t help but to look away because it’s just all too much. When he’s this close to me, my skin tingles and my limbs lock. I can’t control these unexplainable feelings.

“Well I gotta go ha.” I say as I begin to turn around.

“Wait,”

“Yeah?”

He pauses and continues to stare and I can’t help but to feel like there is either something on my face that shouldn’t belong or a piece of food in my teeth. Perfect, I’m about to majorly embarrass myself on my birthday.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh, uh, my name is Jade.”

“Jade, I’m Kane. Maybe I’ll see ya around”

“Yeah, maybe.”

And then it’s really over as he runs down the escalator with his two friends. I walk passed it and quickly climb down the empty stairs, two steps at a time. As I pass Sephora and Forever 21 I look to my left and notice crowds of people surrounding the stage in the middle of the mall. I stop and begin to head over, curious to know what is going to happen.

“Hey, do you know what’s going on?” I ask some random girl standing next to me.

“Yeah, a band is about to play. It’s called Red, they’re new or some s***.”

“Oh, I gotcha, thanks.”

I decide to stand here for ten minutes and then turn around and start heading back in the other direction. I mean, sure, it would be cool to listen to a band but I think I’ll write more. When I’m about to turn the corner leading to the escalator I hear an awesome drum beat start to play and the craziest electric guitar. I stop dead in my walk and turn around to peek at who is creating this great music. It’s hard for me to see above the people surrounding the stage because I am awfully short so I run up to the crowd to get a closer look, then I hear it. The sexiest voice starts to sing as the alternative band plays perfectly in the background and now I am dying to see the faces of these musicians. I’m starting to get desperate so I grab a fold up chair and stand on it. My eyes focus on the center stage and I feel my face brighten. Standing behind the mic with a navy blue t-shirt and snapback is Kane.

Within seconds of me recognizing his face, my eyes meet his and he winks and smiles as he continues to sing. I can’t help but to smile as I feel a million waves hit my heart and my arms begin to tingle. Then I look around to see if anyone saw and once again the burning sickness comes back. Standing right beside me on another folding chair is the blue-eyed girl, blowing kisses at Kane.

Now I feel like a total idiot as I step down from the chair and walk quickly away, back to my empty bench where I belong. I should have known that he couldn’t be winking at me. I slam my backpack down, pull out my notebook, and tear up the page I wrote about him. I take the penny I found earlier out of my pocket and chuck it, hard, into the fountain as I whip out my headphones and blast my music. I want to drown my worthless wish and this torturing band that continues to play in the background. I am back where I started, leaning over an empty page, pen in hand. I look up for some new inspiration while blocking out the embarrassing events that just happened. When I realize what I’m looking at, my eyes widen. How is this possible?