When I told people I didn't eat meat, they always became curious about my decision. My answer usually varied depending on who asked, but the real reason was because I felt like it. I was curious to see how long I could keep going, so I decided to give it a shot. Though friends finding napkin-wrapped bacon in my bag or signs of chicken nugget boxes beneath my bed were just a couple of the withdrawal symptoms I had to overcome. I'd say I was doing very well, given it'd been a week since then. Everyone had their weak spots. And today was no different.

Here I was at the mall food court as I tried reminding myself of the progress I had made, but standing in front of me was my craving coming to life. This burger was perfectly cooked, with a juicy patty and all the toppings I loved. The aroma wafting from it was irresistible, making my mouth water in anticipation. I wasn't sure if being a vegetarian was a good idea anymore.

But I wasn't a quitter.

I turned my back on the burger stand and sighed as I retreated from the store, only to run into a stranger. He seemed to be in his twenties, carrying off the tall, dark, and attractive appearance nicely with his brown skin tone and muscular features. Behind him were three boys my age, if not a bit older. The line of customers waiting to place an order was longer than I realized, and I couldn't even blame them.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I chose to ignore it. "Sorry," I said to the man. He responded with a nod of acknowledgement. However, I noticed the slight raising of his thick eyebrows as he momentarily paused his phone conversation to make eye contact with me. It was nothing out of the ordinary for me to see a tiny look of surprise cross his face. It wasn't very common to meet someone with albinism. I simply gave a quick nod to him as I stepped away.

"Hold on, I know you."

I spun around, locking eyes with one of the boys. My eyes focused intently on him. He stood slightly above me, his height reaching maybe around five-foot-nine. The soft coils of his curly afro danced with each movement, adding an extra layer of height to his presence. However, his eyes truly stole the spotlight. The blue sparkle in his right eye danced with vibrant intensity, while his left eye radiated a warm, coppery glow.

"Well, that only makes one of us," I said, now curious. The sun peeked out from behind a fish-shaped cloud as I glanced up through the mall's glass ceiling. I couldn't afford to stay here much longer, but I couldn't exactly take off when a random guy said I looked familiar.

"You go to Emerson High, right?" he asked, ignoring my unintentional sass.

"How'd you know?"

When he turned around after hitting the boy next to him, I was caught off guard. Twins with heterochromia. I bet they were popular in their school.

"Ben, remember that volleyball game we went to with Tao a couple months ago? She's the one who literally carried the whole team," the boy said to his brother, who was now looking at me.

"Oh, are you talking about the one at Dayson High?" I asked, impressed by his memory, and he nodded. "Then, yeah. That was me."

"Man, you did that?" Ben gasped and stared at me like I was a celebrity. "Dude, you were totally nuts. Our friend Tao fell in love with you."

Ben's over-the-top reply made me laugh. "Thanks. I appreciate the compliment, and I wish we could talk more, but I need to get home."

"No worries." The first brother smiled. "It was cool to meet you. What's your name? I'm Harvey, and this is my brother, Bennett."

"Icelyn."

"Dope," they both said.

Bennett waved. "See ya around, Icelyn."

As I pivoted on my heel with my hand waving, I noticed the other boy standing behind the twins. His gaze was fixed on his shoes, as if they had a magical ability to tie themselves. He stood taller than the two curly-headed boys, with amber skater-boy hair cascading down and gently brushing against his earlobes. The glint of his snakebite piercings added a touch of edginess to his appearance. He remained expressionless, like he was disconnected from the activities happening around him. Then, as if he felt the intensity of my gaze, he looked up with his deep, almost black eyes, locking in on me. My hairs stood on end, so I swiftly shifted on my heels and walked away. On the few blocks back to my place, I did my best to erase his bottomless pit out of my mind.

Then two additional texts from Taylor appeared on my screen as my phone rang again.

She's awake, it read. You better get here fast.

"Crap," I mumbled as I climbed the steps to my house. To avoid bad luck, I counted by prime numbers, tapped my feet twice, and saluted the door. Silence echoed all around me when I crept inside. But once I heard the unyielding creak of an old rocking chair, I paused and turned my head. Mama Bunny sat in her favorite rocker, crocheting what may have been a sweater. Her back faced me. So, I went back to creeping, thankful her hearing wasn't too good.

"Sneaking out again?"

Hearing aids these days seemed to be evolving. Thought, she always appeared to have a sixth sense when it came to my early morning escapades.

I halted my steps, one foot still hovering in the air. "Oh, hey." I let out a dramatic laugh, cursing my unluckiness. "Didn't see you there."

"Nice try, but you can't fool me that easily," she said, her voice filled with a mix of sternness and affection. I sheepishly lowered my foot back to the ground, knowing there was no point in trying to hide my intentions from her. With a delicate touch, she beckoned me to come closer, her slender index finger extending towards me. Her eyes met mine, silently inviting me to take a seat on the chair placed directly in front of her. I eased myself onto the chair, feeling its cool surface against the back of my legs. With a hushed breath, I directed my gaze downward, fixating on my shoes. "What am I going to do with you, Icelyn?" Her voice was tinged with exasperation as she released a heavy sigh, filling the air with a sense of weariness. However, as I lifted my gaze, I became aware of the gentle curve of her lips, radiating a comforting warmth.

"Let me off the hook?" It was a long shot since my morning curfew was a rule I repeatedly broke.

"Two weeks of cleaning the bathrooms."

Her consequence hung in the air as I groaned. "But that's pure torture." The thought of scrubbing toilets and wiping down grimy surfaces for two weeks couldn't have been more unbearable.

She nonchalantly raised her shoulders. "Rules must be followed. Now, could you please begin the task of waking the other children? We have a lot to accomplish today."

"Do we?"

She gave me a disapproving look. "We have our charity event tomorrow."

"Already?" I glanced at the giant calendar on the door and cringed as I saw the huge red circle labeled "CHARITY EVENT" scribbled in sharpie. "Yikes. Okay, so I forgot. But I didn't mean to. I've just been so busy with volleyball and school and-"

She cut me off with a stern expression. "No excuses. It's important we all contribute and make this event a success. Have you even started on the posters?"

I drew a breath. Probably my last one. "Uh, about that..."

She didn't even blink. "Get it done."

"Yes, ma'am." I bolted out of the room.

Most students at a private school would refer to Mama Bunny as "Headmaster." But this wasn't a school, and her name wasn't necessarily Bunny. It was Benny, and this was an orphanage.

People have asked whether I miss my biological family, but I was never even introduced to them. At seven months, I was left here with nothing but my name and an icicle necklace. It was like a fairy tale. I always hoped the necklace harbored some magical ability to make me the "chosen one" of a castle and lead to my marriage to a prince by the age of eighteen.

A girl could only dream.

Because of my personal circumstances, several students at my school regarded me differently. When you stand out, rumors and subtle forms of bullying follow like a parasitic shadow. Even though no one was physical with me or made it clear something was about me, the fact I was called names like "Pale Annie" spoke volumes about how I was perceived. However, Mama Bunny's orphanage was a haven where my differences were not only accepted but celebrated. Here, I found solace in the company of other unique individuals who understood the weight of labels and the power of acceptance. And I couldn't care less about popularity. I had three people in my life who had my complete trust, which was enough for me.

Following Mama's orders, I made my way to the boy's part of the house. I regularly went ahead with them first because they were easier.

Since this place was enormous with only a hundred kids-sixty-seven boys and thirty-three girls, ranging from two to seventeen-our three-story house, with its multiple levels, provided ample space for our needs. The household activities, such as cooking and dining, were on the ground floor. It consisted of a spacious kitchen where meals were prepared and a dining hall where the family gathered to eat. On the other hand, the upper two stories of the house were designated for the boys and girls separately. The boys occupied one floor, while the girls had the other.

The second level of our house was dedicated to the boys. Due to their proximity to the kitchen, they took the blame whenever food vanished throughout the night. Drawers were piled high with leftovers, like the First Thanksgiving, when we did our last cleaning. There were empty juice bottles, dishes, and candy wrappers. Every month, we set aside a day to clean, and we're astonished by how much garbage they collect.

It'd only been five days since cleaning day, and I already had to shuffle around trash. Some things would never change.

I cleared my throat. "Alright guys, time to get a move on!" I called out, poking my head throughout the rooms. "We've got a big day tomorrow, so wake up, and prepare to have another spectacular charity event. Can't wait to see you guys show up and show out."

Most of them looked at me with empty, half-dead faces as they shot up. I wasn't worried whether they'd stay awake or not because I knew they wouldn't prefer to hear my nagging voice again. So, I made my way up the final flight of stairs to the girls' rooms. Because of the bobby pins and other little things on the floor, no one walked around here barefoot. It was like asking for a hole in your foot.

"Please don't yell today," one of the girls said upon my arrival.

Usually the girls were awake by now. The hard part was getting them out of their beds.

"Fine, fine," I sighed, then a little louder, "but you guys should know the boys are probably going to eat all the breakfast if you don't hurry. I think Mama said something about pancakes earlier."

Everyone flew out of the room, and I chuckled.

Works every time.

With everything taken care of, I decided to make up for lost time by skipping breakfast. I changed into some clothing I didn't mind getting messy in, gathered my poster materials, and headed downstairs to the backyard.

Decorated with a wide pool, two trampolines, and a park area, our backyard impressed most people. The lush greenery and vibrant flowers added a touch of serenity to an already natural setting. As I set up my materials, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the oasis-like escape right in our own home.

Taylor gave me some breakfast and kept me company as I worked. Around here, he was the closest person to me. He was twelve when he entered the orphanage; I was eleven at the time. The change was difficult for him after coming from a heavily abusive household, but I was there to support him through it. We had been inseparable throughout the years, sticking by each other through thick and thin.

"How many people do you think will be adopted tomorrow?" I asked as he sat on the chair swing.

He shrugged. "Hard to say."

"You never give a solid answer."

The chains creaked as he rocked. "That's 'cause nothing's certain."

"Such a pessimist."

His phone then erupted with the sweet sound of a harp, signaling the call of his caseworker. I cast a glance at him, but he remained fixated on the endless blue sky.

I took his phone and swiped the green bubble. "Hi, Cassie." Taking a second look at Taylor, whose eyes were now closed, I sat down for a second. "It's Icelyn."

"Hey, where's Taylor?" Her voice was like a knitted sweater on a November night.

"Our annual charity event is tomorrow, so he and I have been busy." I switched the phone to my other ear. "It starts at one. I think you should come. See how he's doing. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you since it's been a minute."

Taylor, true to form, kept quiet while I carried on my chat with Cassie. He had a poker face, lost in his own world. While I understood he was simply having "one of those days," it still made me sad.

"See you later, then." I returned the phone to the table, and Taylor gave it a quick glance.

A breeze flew by. The air was filled with the rustling of leaves, as if a sense of peace had decided to make an appearance. Taylor's eyes followed the movement of the leaves, his expression softening slightly. "You ever think the leaves get tired of being blown away, like they're nothing?"

I nudged him, softly. "Is that how you would feel?"

"You mean, if I were a leaf?"

"Yeah."

He hummed. "I don't know. Maybe. What about you?"

"I think I would feel a sense of freedom, being carried by the wind and exploring new places," I replied, my gaze also drawn to the dancing leaves. "Staying in one place forever seems a little scary. It's stuffy."

"Yet you don't wanna be adopted."

"It's not the same thing."

"So you say."

I picked at the chair, defeated. We'd talk about this many times before, but now it seemed hopeless for me to keep lying to myself. "Fine. You're right. The truth is that I'm just scared, okay? The only change I know is the weather. When I think of tomorrow, I hate the idea of it being like today. But I know nothing changes overnight."

"Look who's being such a pessimist."

I swiped some pink paint across his nose. "Whatever. That was then, and this is now."

He sat up. "See how quickly that was? You just changed. I'd say it was a bit faster than overnight."

I couldn't win.

"You're insufferable."

"And you're welcome."

I blew a breath. "You just wanna get rid of me, huh?" I joked, but it fell through.

He sighed, sounding more serious than he usually did. "I just want you to question yourself more. You're oddly optimistic, but never for yourself. I want you to want things."

"You want me to have my own Renaissance?" I tried to keep things lighthearted.

"I think you mean revelation."

After that, we decided to sit in silence. Well, I just didn't speak anymore. Taylor simmered right back into his quietness, leaving his words to weigh on me.

He truly was insufferable.

I went back into my paintings with questions and "what ifs" now clouding me. I thought about all the decisions I could have made but didn't, taking me back to the mall. I should've bought the burger. Or, if I had stayed and chatted with Bennett and Harvey for a little longer, I could have learned where they went to school. We might have exchanged phone numbers and met up sometime. And even the mysterious boy they brought along. We didn't even get a chance to speak.

But lo and behold, here I found myself. Caught between a rock and a hard place with this poster duty. Our annual charity event has been a staple for the past decade. For many children, their lives have been turned upside down, and they couldn't be happier. Coming across kind, loving families to call home. While I've spent my whole life confined to this area.

Would things ever change?

Then, Taylor began humming a random country song, breaking my train of thought. And I held onto it for the rest of the day.

~~~

I was wilting under the scorching sun. The air was thick with heat, as if the sun itself were frying eggs on the sidewalk-my umbrella wasn't even enough to stop its terror. Still, despite this burning environment, the charity event was in full swing, bustling with energy and lively sounds. Tilden's wealthiest citizens turned out to show their support for a group of orphans.

The scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the fragrant blooms of flowers, creating a symphony of aromas dancing on the breeze. I took a moment to absorb the sights around me. Every year, I was in awe of the vibrant energy from the kids, their determination evident in the air. The sun casted a golden glow upon the scene, illuminating every detail with intensity. Our backyard transformed from a clubhouse to a prestigious clubhouse.

Mama Bunny started from scratch to create this establishment. With the donations she received over the years, she expanded the Benny Home for Care into the amazing place it was today. The original purpose of this occasion was to show appreciation and support for her dedication. But now, with no more options available to her, she had to look upward. She took us with her as she climbed. It was only natural I would become used to our way of life. It quickly became our home, thanks to her. Of course, eventually, every young bird figured out how to fly, but the process of finding my wings was a lot harder than I expected.

I took a break so I could reapply my sunscreen and enjoy the cold air conditioning. After turning the corner while getting a drink of water, I collided with another person. Dramatically, the glass shattered upon impact with the floor, spilling its contents.

I never remembered being this clumsy.

"For crying out loud, Riley! You made me knock over some kid's drink," a deep and infuriated voice sighed.

I glanced from my wasted water to the guy having a heated debate with a lady named Riley on the other end of the line and couldn't believe my eyes-they were as dry as a bone from sheer surprise. Either this guy was just your everyday proprietor or John freaking Stamos. He was the type of CEO straight out of a steamy romance novel, where the no-nonsense, attractive businessman fell head over heels for a free-spirited, young beauty.

"How rich coming from the same woman who was bent over the table with a seventeen-year-old in my house," Stamos said.

Scratch that.

A free-spirited, young, cheating beauty.

Either this Riley chick was his crazy ex-wife, or worse, the wife.

I dumped the roll of napkins on the floor, rubbing the spill against the tile while listening in on Stamos and Riley's chat.

"Because of you, Zaine almost failed his sophomore year." He paced back and forth, letting her rant before pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm hanging up now. When you've figured things out, get back to me."

After the call finished, I noticed I hadn't budged from where I was sitting. I made a quick retreat, hoping to look like I hadn't just walked in on a couple filing for divorce, but karma had other ideas as I put my palm on the edge of a glass shard.

"Whoops," I said as a little trace of blood appeared.

As Stamos caught sight of my palm, his actions came to a halt. "Well," his laughter echoed through the room, "that's no good." His voice was tinged with a hint of amusement, as if he weren't just going through a midlife crisis. The sharp crunch of his fancy-looking shoes echoed through the air, shattering the pieces of glass beneath his every step as he walked towards me. He carefully brushed away the sharp fragments, and with a gentle touch, settled himself on the smooth floor, folding his legs into a comfortable cross-legged position. Retrieving a soft, velvety pink handkerchief from his pocket, he pressed it against my skin, the gentle pressure soothing the sting of the cut.

Then he launched into a story as if it were his turn to share one around a campfire. "I remember when I turned twenty-one," he said. "I accidentally cut my palm opening my first bottle of vodka. Thankfully, the three beers and ten shots of tequila I'd already consumed had dulled the pain. The scar is still visible. See." He showed me his left hand, and I spotted a brown line thicker than the others.

"Wow" was the only thing I was able to say.

"My mother died of brain cancer the same night." He seemed completely calm, looking me in the eye while dropping all this information on me. "I got the call and ran to the hospital, but I was in a state of complete intoxication. It was truly amazing to see. Every form had to be signed by a drooling, incoherent moron with blood on his hand, making it look like I had just emerged from some sort of demonic ritual. My dad was forever angry with me afterwords."

The awkwardness of the situation almost made me chuckle. "Do you tell that story to everyone you come across who hurts their hand?"

His face broke into a grin, his smile lines on full display. "Not really. Just to the ones who've witnessed my ex-wife and I reminiscing about our extremely peaceful separation."

He caught me red-handed.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to."

He shrugged. "I actually thought you were a unicorn until you spoke."

I couldn't help but laugh at his unexpected response. "Well, I guess my appearance can be quite deceiving. But no, I'm just a regular human with a clumsy streak."

He chuckled, and then I realized this was my chance. He seemed a little hectic, but I enjoyed his company, weirdly enough. I wasn't sure how fathers were supposed to be, but this could be a start. I straightened myself up and went for it.

"So, what brought you here?"

"Just supporting an old friend of mine. We called him Jolly Benny back in college because he used to make jolly ranches with all sorts of drugs in them. It's crazy how he runs an orphanage now."

My jaw slacked. "No way. Mr. Benny lectures us for hours if he thinks any of us are doing drugs."

He eased into a smile. "It's funny how people change. He guy had every drug available, and I tried them all." Then he paused, intently looking at me. "Hey, how old are you, kid?"

"Fifteen."

He pulled a face, no doubt realizing he wasn't setting a good example. "Well, they teach you not to do drugs in school, right?" he said, and I nodded. "Then you'll be fine. Don't do drugs, okay?"

"Even though you've done them all?"

"Yes."

I laughed. "Okay."

Eventually, he lifted the dirty handkerchief out of my hand and cleaned up all the water and glass on his own. "Alright. You're good to go, kid. Make sure you properly wash that cut."

I responded by gently nodding and placing my hand over my chest. "My name is Icelyn, by the way."

"John Qinloa," he said. "Thanks for the talk, Icelyn."

As he turned to leave, a sense of sadness washed over me. Stamos's kindness and care reminded me of the love and support I had been missing in my life. It was a bittersweet realization this brief encounter would likely be the closest thing to parental affection I would experience for a long time. And it was the last thing I wanted.

I blurted out, "Wait," without giving it any second thought. Now his gaze was fixed expectantly on me, and I was at a loss for words. So, I just stood there dumbfounded, despite the fact my chance at freedom stood in front of me. But there in that moment, the wind grabbed a hold of me and drifted me away. Maybe this was what Taylor was talking about earlier.

The leaves truly were powerless against the wind.

"Uh, thanks for helping me," I choked out.

To that, he gave a light smile before walking away.

And I let him go.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

How's your gallbladder?