Part One

Her eyelashes were long, her hair was dark. Her eyes were sparkling green embers, with a swirling dab of blue in the middle. Her lips—as scarlet as a rose! lined with right-on-the-line lip gloss……her nose!? A perfect, pointed lump pink as a flamingo! Her neck: embroided with a blue necklace with stunning precious jewels. Her eyebrows? 2 perfect, dark lines right above her eyes. Her hands, graceful things, with perfect pointed nails: always cut on the spot.

Her cheeks, rosy pink darlings with a few dotted freckles to finish it up. Her legs: long, pale, and thin; like graceful swans gliding across the smooth lake when she walked. Her smile, a heartwarming lip-glossed filled beauty; it lit up her eyes and she looked so happy, her eyes became even more beautiful. If that’s even possible. Her laugh, a joyous, tinkling bell, like a peaceful church bell on Sunday mornings, reminding you, everything will be alright. When she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, with that shy, beautiful look on her precious, fragile face, it sent shocks straight through a person’s body. They just wanted to stop and stare for awhile.

Her voice? A gentle, sweet, a bit shy smooth one. If you were crying or in hysterics about something, her voice, oh her voice, was the perfect key. Her hug, a light squeeze that left you dazed and in a trance, her warm sweet-smelling arms around you, even for just a few seconds…Her clothes, a not too hard on the eyes style, with simple but beautiful lacy dresses and striped dress with navy blue pockets and a braided belt in the middle…her beautiful dark hair flowing down over her shoulders like a black tidal wave of curls.

Her hip, with a light pink strawberry shaped birthmark stuck on it. It was cute, like someone could have a piece of fruit stuck to their hip forever. Adorable and…wonderful. Her hair on special occasions, oh boy….her beautiful dark wavy hair in a long braid to her elbow, like Heaven’s Braid from Afar. Or her hair in a tight bun at the back of her head with an orange flower stuck in the front.

Her kiss, you ask? A gift from Heaven for sure….her strawberry colored lips on my lips…the smooth warmness of them touching mine…sending an electrical message through your body. Even if it’s just a quick peck on the cheek after a movie, leaves you gaping as you watch her walk away, still holding your cheek. Oh, her kiss.

                                                                ~ ~ ~

‘W-w-what? Me?’ Sheribald Couger nearly jumped out of his seat as Ms. Linger, in her moth-ball smelling plain grey buttoned shirt, walked by looking over his shoulder.

“Are you working on your poem, Sheri? Remember, the assignment was ‘write a poem based on what your family is like. What they help you with, annoy you with, or love you with.’ Not about your girlfriend, ya hear me?”

The class giggled hysterically. Sheri gulped and turned bright red, embarrassed. His girlfriend? What did Ms. Linger know?

The class began to buzz with excitement about gossip, rumuors, and more.

Clap-clap. “Back to work class!” Ms. Linger yelled impatiently, irritated.

“Tsk, tsk,” she muttered under her breath, tapping her long black heels on the floor, with her knee high green and black striped socks above them.

Sheri fell into a long, pleasant daydream…

Her dark curls fell upon her shoulders. She was a princess, a true princess…she deserved to live in a castle in a poofy purple dress…if she wanted to, of course…her red lips would be pursed, her perfect hands on her hips, looking proud as she walked down the aisle and then waved her hands in the air. “SHE IS…QUEEN!” the announcer would yell. Or, “THE NEW PRINCESS!” and there would be much applause. Oh, she would suit the role so well, her beauty, her beauty…Tap. Tap. Tap. Was she tapping her new princess stick? Was she summoning him? Uh, no, she wasn’t…

Sheri, startled, snapped out of his daydream. He cleared his throat. “Ahem.” Ms. Linger was tapping her foot, arms crossed, standing directly in front of his desk, her icy blue eyes on his. And as Sheri looked around, horrified, he saw the whole class was staring at him.

Even worse, he realized his hand had been at work while he was daydreaming. He had WRITTEN DOWN, on his piece of lined paper, his whole daydream! He quickly took a huge gulp and said, his voice cracking in a whisper, “Sorry, Ms. Linger.”

He hung his head.

“Hand it over, Sheri.” Ms. Linger was still tapping her foot.

Now Sheri lunged into panic mode. “W-w-w-wait, w-w-what? T-t-this? No, this isn’t my poem, this is, just, junk—”

Before he could do anything, like grab it back, Ms. Linger had grabbed it from his possession.

And, to make it much, much, much worse, she was placing the piece of paper under the document camera.

                                                        ~ ~ ~

He watched, oh he watched, like watching a beautiful parrot take a birdbath, or an innocent sparrow; he watched her gracefully slip a shiny gold barette into her beautiful raven-colored dark hair. It was down, curly as always, beautifying the whole ugly plain-wallpapered room. Under his breath, he muttered, “Oh, how beautiful you are…” but not loud enough for her to hear. Her lips, oh her rosy lips, were set in a straight line as she gazed into the mirror, placing the barette in just the right place. But then, the beautiful creature laughed at herself for staring and her rosy lips broke apart and a tinkling bell came flooding out of her mouth. Ah, her laugh. Sheri really was in love.

                                                                 ~ ~ ~

“N-no, please! Come on, Ms. Linger, I beg you…” Sheri went into hysterics, practically yelling and begging at the same time at Ms. Linger’s feet.

Ms. Linger quickly shook her head and her lipstick-stained lips curled. “Nope, Sheri. Too late.” She snapped her fingers and smirked as she put the paper under the camera once and for all.

“Aaaah,” she said, stepping back and looking satisfied.

“Hmm, Sheri, let’s read this note to the class, shall we? It must be important, since you were working so hard!”

Ms. Linger slowing began to read it. “Her dark curls fell upon her shoulders”—Ms. Linger looked up from the paper to the class and raised her eyebrows, saying, “Ooooh la la, who could this treasure be?”—“She was a princess, a true princess. She deserved to live in a castle in a poofy purple dress”—at this the class burst into unstoppable laughter, cracking up and falling out of their chairs; one classmate said to Sheri, “Are you the prince, Sher-Sher?”—If she wanted to, of course. Her red lips would be pursed, her perfect hands on her hips, looking proud as she walked down the aisle and waved her hand. ‘SHE…IS…QUEEN!’ the announcer would yell. Or, the new”—Ms. Linger stopped here and squinted; she asked Sheri, “Sheri, what does that say? Pretty?” Sheri rolled his eyes and muttered, “No, it’s princess.” He sighed. This was humiliating—“princess and there would be much applause. Oh, she would suit the role so well, her beauty, her beauty…”

The class cracked up and a classmate named Cherry said to Sheri sarcasticially, “Wow. Bravo! I mean like, bravo!”

Sheri looked down at his desk. Was this really happening? Or was this a dream where he’d wake up any moment and say in relief, “Phew…no one knows about my secret love. No one.” He pinched himself to make sure, but to his horror, he did not suddenly snap back to his cozy bed at home. No, he remained in a humiliating classroom with students—like soldiers—hysterically laughing at him.


They didn’t understand. They would never understand. His love meant a lot to him. So much. But they could never be together.

                                                                 ~ ~ ~

He felt like her pearl-white smiling teeth and raven-black curls could sweep him onto the rug like a magic broom—into a trance. She could hypnotize him with her beauty. She really could. Her beauty gave her so much power. At least, over Sheri. The moment her sparkling eyes locked on his, like the sun shining down on a lake, he felt like he was in the middle of a game of tug o’war and a strong rope was pulling him into another world. She was…his life. His…happiness. His happiness meter. If she was unhappy, he was unhappy, too. If she was angry…ok, you get the point. She was his everything.

                                                         ~ ~ ~

As she walked out of the crumbling dust, onto golden stairs, she came into view. The Queen of Heaven. She wore a beautiful gold dress that swept to her ankles. A crown sat upon her head. Leaves around her feet. She wore the most beautiful smile in the world on her face. She really did. She--

In Room 201, on the 2nd floor, if you looked in the 2nd row of desks in the seat closest to the window facing the chalkboard, you would see a pale, freckled boy in a deep daydream, his head in his hands, staring distantly out the window. He was everywhere but here, writing class. He was in a very faraway world.

“Chop, chop! Sheri, what on earth are you doing?”

Sheri woke up. “Oops, sorry, M-Ms. Linger. I was…um…t-t-t-thinking.”

The memory of that humiliating day so long ago came rushing into Sheri’s memory. “Just really…deep thinking! I wanted to, er, ace this assignment!”

Ms. Linger eyed him suspiciously, the same incident popping into her head, but she let it be and walked over to check on the other students.

                                                                      ~ ~ ~

                        Part Two

“Geez, Violet, you don’t need makeup! You’re so…pretty, as you are!” Ivy insisted, pointing urgently at the bus waiting outside. “Seriously! We have a math test today, we gotta hurry! The bus is waiting!”

“No, Ivy, this is important.” Violet smiled as she applied some purple eye shadow to her eyelids. Then black mascara to her eyelashes and around her eye, then sparkly lip gloss, some blush, and then finally she was done.

The bus was gone by now, so Violet’s mom agreed to drive them in a few minutes.

“Come on!” Ivy tugged at her book-bag.

“Wait! Since we have a few minutes, let me do a few things.” Violet grinned at Ivy, her lip gloss catching the light and sparkling.

First, Violet grabbed some black nail polish and quickly painted her nails black. Then, she put in simple but beautiful sparkly diamond studs in her earlobes. She heard her mom call from downstairs, “VIOLET AND IVVVYY!” So she gave Ivy a quick apologetic look and they ran down the stairs to her mom and rushed out the door, to school.

                                                            ~ ~ ~

First day of high school. Violet took a deep breath. I can do this, she thought to herself. As she walked down the halls, arms linked with Ivy and Anna, her other close friend, she caught boys staring at her as she fleeted past. What was their deal?

Violet whispered to Ivy, “What are all the boys staring at me for?”

Ivy looked her up and down with a smirk on her face and said, “Violet, why do you think?”

When Violet didn’t answer, Ivy said, “Hmm, let’s see, there’s a long list. You’re beautiful, you applied a LOT of makeup this morning, you have sparkly earrings, and most of all, your chest got a lot bigger over the summer.”

“Ivy!” Violet slapped Ivy’s arm playfully and began to blush.

But Ivy was right.

                                                          ~ ~ ~

Violet got home from school. She opened the door, dropped her backpack on the front hall rug, summoned Ivy to follow her, and rushed into her room, which had a long mirror by her bed. She immediately stood in front of it with a gold hairbrush. She swept it through her long, luscious dark hair. Curly. Beautiful. All of a sudden her 12-year-old brother walked in. “Hey! What are you doing here?” Violet asked, surprised.

“Sorry,” he said, his lip curling and his eyes having a distant look.

“Get out,” she said as she continued brushing her hair.

“O-ok,” he said, as if in a trance; he stumbled out of the room, almost tripping.

“What’s his deal?” Violet muttered under her breath to Ivy.

“Sometimes brothers can be weird. Jack, especially. I don’t know about Sheri, but I know about Jack.”

Violet laughed. “Yeah, well, I sure know about Sheri. Honestly, I don’t know what his deal is lately. He stumbles around the house and seems in a distant world. Do you think he’s developing a mental issue? Or…or maybe he’s upset about something that happened at school?”

Violet dismissed herself. “I really don’t know what I’m talking about. But, honestly, Ivy, what should I do? I’ve always worried a little more about Sheri than I should. He never used to be a faraway day-dreamy kid! He used to be, ya know, in the moment, out in the world!”

Ivy shrugged. “I wouldn’t sweat it if I were you, Violet. Like I said, brothers can be weird.”

“Ok, I’ll just…have to believe you.” Violet sighed and set her hairbrush on her dresser. She collapsed onto her bed filled with stuffed animals and pillows. “Oh, lordie, high school is…exhausting,” she muttered.

“But it’s just your first day!” Ivy laughed.

“I know.”

“Girl, if you’re exhausted on the first day, you got a loooooong road ahead of you.”

They laughed and high fived, but then an awkward silence began as they both sat on Violet’s bed, silent as church mice.

Finally, Ivy broke the silence and said out of the blue, “Do you have a boyfriend, Vi?”

Violet sprang up. “What? No!”

Ivy raised an eyebrow. “I was just wondering!”

                                                          ~ ~ ~

“Violet, can you come up and share your project about the Ice Age, please?” Ms. Sally, the social studies teacher, demanded of her student.

“Sure, yeah,” Violet said casually, lifting her poster from her backpack. She stood up in front of the promeathen board, facing the class. She took a deep breath.

“So,” she said, making eye contact with the class, “my project was on the Ice Age. One thing about the ice age that happened was”—at this point Violet noticed no one was paying attention to her poster except for the girls. The boys were just gazing at her chest—“because of food scarce, they had to migrate, which means move elsewhere…”

Violet continued her project, until finally, she was done and the class clapped for her.

“Thank you, Violet,” Ms. Sally said, smiling sweetly at her best social studies student. “That was great.”

“Oh, thanks, Ms. S.”

                                                       ~ ~ ~

Finally, 2 days later, Violet and Ivy were free of high school. It was the weekend! Ivy called up Violet and asked if she wanted to go get their caricatures done at some carnival going on that day. Violet agreed, and so off they were to a carnival on Saturday afternoon. As they neared the caricature artist, they saw he had a beret, a black goatee, and huge plugs in his ears. He waved an-olive colored hand. “Hey,” he said casually. “Y’all want your caricature done? Alright, cool. Who’ll go first?”

Ivy and Violet looked at each other. “Um, you can go first, Ivy,” Violet muttered.

So Ivy sat on the stool and the artist began doing her caricature in sharpie. Ivy noticed he stuck his tongue out while he concentrated. It was pretty funny.

Eventually, he finished and handed the caricature to Ivy. “Ah, thank you!” Ivy said, handing him five dollars. “Alright, Vi, you’re up!”

Violet sat on the stool, stroking her dark curls. The artist gasped as he took a closer look at her. “My…my darling…I’m afraid I cannot…cannot draw a caricature of you. You—you too beautiful. Instead, I will paint you…ah, ah…a self portrait.”

Violet hadn’t noticed he had a strong Brazilian accent before.

“Ok, then.” Violet shrugged, smiling at him.

He did her painting and then turned it around on the easel. “You like?” he asked hopefully.

Violet nodded enthusicatically. “Yes, yes, I do! I’ll hang it up in my room! Thanks!” She handed him a 6 dollar bill for a tip and she and Ivy walked away, chatting like crazy chipmunks.

                                                          ~ ~ ~

                     Part Three

Sheri decided it was time. Time to express his feelings to his deep love. Her. The special Her. As he got home from sixth grade, he ran all the way home, and, panting, quickly sprang open the front door. The doorknob tumbled off, but he ignored it.

His mother was in the kitchen. “Sheri? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Ma, I’m home. I kind of discuss something important with you and someone…”

“Ok. Hold on, I have to go pick up your sis. We can talk as SOON as we get home, okay?”

Sheri, disappointed, said glumly, “Fine.”

But 5 minutes later his mom and sister were back.

Sheri said, “This is important. Can you guys gather with me in the kitchen?”

“Sure,” they agreed.

So here they were, in the kitchen, Sheribald Couger gathered his courage to really do this. He knew the reactions wouldn’t be great; but he had to do this. It had been a burden inside him for too long now.

He took a deep breath. “Sis, I…I-I love you.” His lip trembled as he looked up at her.

“Ok, um, I love you too, Sher-Bear. Siblings are supposed to love each other! Is that all you gathered us here for?”

“N-no, Sis, you don’t understand. I love you in a…different way.”

They both gasped at the same time, Sheri’s mom and sister. “Sheri! You wouldn’t…” his mom scolded.

“I know, Mom, I know,” Sheri said, rubbing his forehead.

“Sorry, sweatheart, can’t date your sister!” Violet said to her brother, Sheri, putting her arm around him.

Sisters can be hot.

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