Akemi Dawn Bowman - Generation Misfits

When the mustard-yellow bus appeared at the top of the hill, eleven-year-old Millie Nakakura felt her heart tripleno, quadruplein beats per minute. It was like watching the sun rise on the horizon, signaling a new day.

And today, everything seemed new.

She had a new haircutbangs and a bob, which had only sort of turned out like the photo Millie had shown her mom. She had a new pair of red Converse, and a new backpack decorated in smiling pieces of sushi and rice balls. She had a new binder covered in all her favorite Pokmon, which she was certain would be a great conversation starter. (How could anyone not think Alolan Vulpix was the absolute cutest?) She even had a new pad guard for her flute, which some might argue was exciting to absolutely nobody, but those people had never met Millies dad.

And most important of all, Millie was starting sixth grade at a new school. Her first school, really, because being homeschooled always felt more like home than school.

Millie looked toward her parents at the front of the car. Her mom checked her hair in the mirror, again and again. Her dad drummed his fingers against the steering wheel almost exactly in time to Millies racing heart.

Maybe nerves were similar to sneezes, and you could pass them off to other people.

Not that her parents had any reason to be nervous. None of this was new to them. Theyd already experienced classes and teachers and best friends.

A smile grew in the corner of Millies mouth.

Friends.

It sounded like all the hope in the world bottled up in one tiny word.

Millie could feel her face giving away everything she was thinking. She was worse than an open bookthere might as well be a flashing neon sign above her head, because anybody in the world could take one look at her and know exactly what she was feeling.

She hadnt been this excited since Generation Love released their second album last year. The fact that a new school could compete with the worlds greatest J-Pop group was kind of a big deal.

Millie clutched her flute case in her lap. The silver YAMAHA logo caught her eye, reminding her of all the arguments it had taken to finally convince her parents to let her attend a real school. Shed threatened to quit flute, though she wasnt sure the choice to quit was really hers at all. But it made her parents discuss their options. Or rather, the only option: Brightside Academy, a K-to-twelve magnet school for performing and visual arts.

It was a compromiseMillie had to keep doing the one thing she hated in order to have the one thing she wanted more than anything. But maybe flute wouldnt be so bad at Brightside Academy. Band seemed like as good a place as any to make friends.

And the chance to go to school and make friends was all shed ever wanted.

Most wishes were fleeting and forgotten, like shooting stars and fountain pennies. But some wishes stuck. Permanently.

And every now and thenwhen the planets aligned, and there was a full moon, and some otherworldly presence was feeling generoussome wishes could come true.

Even the big ones.

The school bus slowed to a stop next to the curb, and a flickering red stop sign appeared.

Millie took a breath and reached for the door handle, freezing in terror when her parents did the same.

You dont have to go with me, she said hurriedly, eyes scanning the herd of students on the nearby pavement. Emphasis on studentsnot parents.

Her mom, Jane, turned around, confusion swarming her hazel eyes. We just want to say hello to the bus driver. I think its important to know whos driving our eleven-year-old daughter to school every morning.

But parents dont do that, Millie blurted out. She could see the way her mom was moving closer to the door, like she had already made up her mind.

Millie begged every star, penny, and four-leaf clover in the world not to let her parents get out of the car. Because this was her new beginningshe wanted it to be perfect.

Perfect did not involve her parents walking her to the school bus like she was a toddler who couldnt go anywhere without having her hand held. Theyd already insisted on driving her to the bus stop so she didnt have to walk nearly a mile on her own. Wasnt that enough?

Millies mom frowned. How do you know parents dont do that?

Millie was prepared. She had to be when it came to her parents. I googled it. It wasnt a lie. Millie googled everything. Not knowing things made her anxious, and if there was ever a sliver of hope she could win an argument against her parents, she needed to be a walking Wikipedia page.

Her dad, Scott, turned to the side and shrugged matter-of-factly. Well, if she says she googled it

Jane looked back at him with a raised brow. They were having a silent debate.

Millies desperation grew as the crowd outside the window began to shrink. Please? I dont want to be late.

Finally, a sigh. Her mothers fingers drifted away from the handle.

Okay, fine, Jane said. But call us if there are any problems at all.

Scott looked over his shoulder. No cell phones in class.

Jane eyed him testily. Unless theres an emergency.

If theres an emergency, the school will call us. Besides, you said problemsshes starting school, not a job on an oil rig. He turned around. Dont call us unless you have to, and do not answer your mother if she texts you during school hours.

Unless its an emergency, Jane mouthed with a small smile.

Millie nodded too many times. Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. She threw herself from the car and bolted for the dwindling line at the parked school bus.

She tried to pretend that her parents werent watching her every move, even though she knew they would be, somewhere in the background.

But at least they were finally in the background, and not front and center, for once. It would take her a while to get used to such a concept.

Millies heart thumped harder with every step she took up the stairs, down the aisle, and into one of the navy blue seats. And it raced the hardest when her eyes landed on all the new faces around her.

Classmates. Peers. Friends.

At that moment, the possibilities felt infinite.

Maybe tomorrow one of them would even be sitting next to her. They could talk about teachers, and homework, and how hard it was to remember their locker combinations.

Millie bit down on her lip and tried not to think about throwing up. Because even though she was excited, she was nervous, too.

Because what if nobody liked her?

She clasped her hands, shoved them in her lap, and forced her eyes out the window, hoping the view of the familiar Oregon suburbs would calm her down.

What did she really have to worry about? She was going to school as a band major. By default, she already had a million things in common with everyone. Mozart, Rachmaninoff, Handel And okay, maybe Millie didnt particularly like any of those thingsclassical music had nothing on J-Popbut there were bound to be kids she had things in common with.