Most teens around my age know what career that they should take. Even young kids have a career picked out. Not me. Thirteen years have passed. It feels as if I have wasted time. So much time. I should follow my heart. I should know what to do with my life. I cannot grow up without a plan. But I have nothing. I do not know what to be when I grow up. No matter how much I ponder, I have nothing. My brain is like a piece of paper. Blank.

I started school two days later. I was anxious. I was not worried of meeting my new teachers and classmates. It felt great being around new people. Starting a new life. I was worried - scared - that they would treat me like a moron. They would be like the ones at my old school. I could not handle more bullying. I would break down. I convinced Mom to homeschool me if things went sour, so I had a backup plan.

Why can I not have a career plan?

I had reached the double doors when I felt somebody's hand on my shoulder. I jumped a little and turned. My breath caught in my throat as my heart skipped a beat. I thought that it was Stine. I do not know why. I sighed when I saw that it was Frankie. She was the only one in Forlot whom I trusted. She wore the same clothes from the day that I moved in and was smiling with glee.

I could not help but smile back. "Frankie. Has anybody ever told you that your smiles are contagious?"

Frankie ripped off her bag and cradled it. "Only when I am being bullied...and nobody does anything about it."

My smile vanished. "Sorry to hear that. I am glad that I am not the only one. Not that I want you to be bullied."

Despite what she said, she did not stop smiling. In fact, her smile grew. She unzipped her backpack. "The other students bully me because...I smile."

I was taken aback and tried processing it. "They...bully you because of your smile."

"I know. It is absurd. Apparently, I smile too much."

I crossed my arms. "That is the most stupidest - one of the most stupidest - things that I have ever heard. One cannot smile too much. They should be happy to watch you smile. It is not right."

She rifled through her bag. "Folks will find any excuses to pick on somebody. But there is none. Stine would do something about it, but he is too invested in his work. I feel like that he does not care about me. I am a mistake to him. I-I am nothing."

"Has he ever said to your face that you are a mistake?"

"No, but...how he treats me is terrible. I am a stain. An inconvenience for him. He would not notice if I ran off. Stine is not the worst brother...but he can do better."

I uncrossed my arms and swayed them back and forth. "It is his loss if he does not care about you. One day, he will need you, but you will not be there. You will not be by his side because you will be in a better place."

Frankie gasped. "I will be dead?!"

Her bag slipped from her hands and fell to the ground. Books and supplies tumbled out. So did a doll. The doll was made from yarn. I put the pieces together. It was a crochet doll. It was darling. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was me. The doll resembled me. I did not find it creepy. I picked it up and stared at it. It took my breath away. It had black buttons for eyes and this red, wide smile.

Was she happy that I was holding her?

Frankie and I dropped to our knees and began shoving her supplies back in her bag. I was clutching the doll in one hand and asked, "Did you make this doll?"

Frankie's cheeks turned red when I asked. She grabbed the rest of her books and threw them in her bag. "Yes. I finished it yesterday and wanted to give it to you. Hope that you like it."

I looked at the doll, and then back at her. "I do not like it. I love it! I give it five stars! No, ten. Ten stars!"

"Awe. Thanks. You do not know how happy that makes me."

"You do not know how happy this doll makes me. Keep it up. I cannot wait to see the other dolls after school."

I came to a realization. If Frankie was here...then Stine should not be far.

A shadow loomed over us. We gazed up, and I groaned and squeezed the doll. Speak of the crub.

Stine glanced back down at us with a blank expression. He was holding his backpack by its straps and a laptop and snatched up Frankie's backpack. "Why is your bag on the ground?" He did not sound angry or concerned.

We got on our feet. Frankie snatched back her bag and zipped it. She swung it over her shoulder. "Why else? I dropped it, and my supplies fell out. Nikki helped me."

His eyes darted to me. His eyebrows narrowed. "You. I told you to stay away from me and my family."

His sister stepped in front of me. "Stop it, Stine. She is my friend. There is nothing that you can do about it."

"I am your older brother. I know what is best for you."

"By one year!"

I squeezed between them and played with my earrings. "I just moved here, so I have done nothing to you. Why do you not want me and Frankie to be friends?"

Stine gripped her wrist. "She is not allowed to have any friends."

"Why not?"

"You do not want to know."