Love In Destin ✔

03 - wait a minute!

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𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒂

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WHAT IS ONE thing you hope for when starting a new school?

Everyone has different prospects in this criteria, mainly depending on why you're starting the new school in the first place.

I hope to become popular.

I've always wondered what it feels like to be the center of attention, to be treated like a queen, like you own the place—secondly, winning my place as head of the cheerleading team to have power and rule over everyone with it.

Thirdly, to pull a school prank. If I become the monarch of pranks, everyone would respect me and think I'm 'cool.' Lastly, getting drunk. Mom doesn't allow me to go anywhere near alcohol. "Alcohol never solves anything, Maya," Mom would say. Regardless, It would be nice to get a sense of how it feels to be rebellious, for your mind to go vacant for a while.

On second thought, scratch that. I know myself too well for those to be my ambitions.

What I truly want is for one to avoid trouble at all possible times. Making friends is an option because being lonely is a big no-no. However, I have to make sure not to get too close, to the point that it feels like Jada and Cassie are not in my life. I'm still waiting to phone them.

Every time I hold my phone, I chicken out. You may speculate if it is Jada's fury I'm afraid of. Perhaps it is. I can imagine her roaring her frustrations out on me while I'd sit there feeling sorry for myself.

Nevertheless, this isn't what I am worried about. It's instead the idea that they might just break our friendship.

I almost fall, stumbling on a small rock reclining on the tarmac road of the neighborhood. The hand holding my pink umbrella feels sweaty, so I wipe it against my light blue mom jeans.

While doing so, a button from the baby pink short-sleeved oversized shirt slips out of its tug. I roll my skates to a stop, wedge the umbrella underneath my armpits, and insert the button back in its tiny pocket. The strawberries crowding the entire shirt make my tummy growl.

I had oatmeal for breakfast this morning with blueberries. Aunt Abby was out of strawberries. So I'd written a note for her to get some from the store on her way home from work.

Most girls crave chocolate during their period. I crave fresh strawberries that crunch between my teeth and sweeten my taste buds with their succulent juice.

I wore this shirt to nonverbally shout out to people, "Hey! I'm Maya Hart, and I love strawberries!"

My journey to school is quite the adventure with my feet embedded inside Aunt Abby's old roller skates. I tilt my umbrella just enough to see the blue sky where the white clouds skip in all different shapes and sizes.

They look rather grey, to be honest, reminding me of Aunt Abby's coded colors of grey, white, and blue.

Wait, is that why she uses grey? To show that humans don't have to be happy or sexy all the time, but that we all, no matter our age, are allowed to feel gloomy on certain occasions?

Aunt Abby is bubbly mainly, so I can't imagine her being sad. I promise myself that if I ever witness her in such a state, I'll make her eat strawberries. It always does the trick for me.

Enough about strawberries, Maya. Time to head to school. It's only ten minutes before I reach the school building. On Sunday afternoon, Aunt Abby drove us on her glossy blue scooter to show me the way to school.