PERCEPTION

This all started in June 2nd. Right when I had my life together (mostly), stable job, good family, a future head spot on the Journalism and Yearbook. All my shit was in line.
But, there's this thing with lines.
Sometimes they curve. Or end.
And, for me, Miracle was both.
--
"You have a vanilla life." Miracle says, rolling her eyes and tying her iconic, faded combat boots. I was already a little pissed off, and this only added to it.
"What the fuck does that mean?" I asked back. June's heat made sweat roll down my face, sending me shivers from its feel.
"Sweet, plan everything. Like vanilla ice cream. All nice, kind-" She starts in a mockingly high voice. Like she was mocking me.
"What's wrong with that?" I say, crossing my arms tightly, tapping my right foot. "if that's who I am, then I don't see-"
Looking up at me, she stood up before I could finish. She stared me dead in the eyes. Not angry, not annoyed. Nothing but dead serious. She smelled of stale nicotine and peppermint cough drops.
"That's the thing," She mumbled, shaking her head a little. "That's not you."
I felt a little uncomfortable, so I stared at my feet. I stared at my little leather-bound white flats, compared to her dirty, faded boots.
"So what am I, then?" I say, trying to sound sarcastic.
She must not have taken the hint, or maybe didn't care enough to hear for one.
Looking up, she started to back away towards my front door, still facing me. A small, mischievous grin grew on her lips.
"I guess we'll find out by August, yeah?"
--
This is a story about two girls, one summer, and a summer assignment.
Many things change, including them.

"Sometimes, vanilla mixes with chocolate.
Either way, both flavors change." - Jude Matthews