I was never the definition of beautiful or pretty. I used to alway cage my body in extra large sized T-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. Till I got ten, it had been my favourite cup of tea.

When I was absorbed in textbooks and storybooks, my elder sister would be partying. She was the fashion icon of the school. Her clothes, her accessories, her make-up style and hairdos would create trends in our school. She was hardly twelve and already popular.

But as I entered high school, I found a weird attraction towards her fluffy teddies, girly cushions-bedsheets; and oh, jeans shorts, mini skirts and torn-like tops were the most appealing items. My former obsession of catching bugs began fading.

I asked my Mom for advice and she said that being "GIRLY" wasn't bad. My opinion changed and I soon started dressing up like my sister. I found her taste really good for the first time and she helped me a lot. Though she thought she would always be way cooler amongst us.

Our house began flooding with her gang, mostly guys. They were the regular parade that came marching after the school to stuff themselves with food or to swim in our backyard pool. I slowly became aware, that in fact, boy weren't that "icky" or "cocky". Maybe their cooties weren't such terrible thing to catch after all. They were tall, young, funny and would be always nice with me even when my sister used to shove me off or shut the door on my face.

Soon, they started coming home even when my sister wasn't there. And then, this one guy with green piercing eyes would particularly try to seek my attention. He would have long conversations with me and he would never forgot to hug me goodbye. I liked the fact about him that he never considered me as his friend's-little sister or a little girl.

In course of time, I got positively giddy about him. My friends told me that it was impossible for me to have a chance with a senior. My sister warned me not to end up with a broken heart. What could I do ? Who cares about other factors while loving someone, whether person is long or short; old or young; thin or fat. What we see is the way they make us feel, when we are with them. Emotions ran to me and I knew that the genuine feeling I always got when I was with him, was- I was in love !

I didn't want to possibly get rejected. So I took a big chance on my feelings and pride. And I never gave him my heart, as he won't get the opportunity to ever break it.

And then one day before he would leave the town, he came to bid me goodbye. We sat in the backyard sipping on some cokes. Silence had greeted us.

Just then we saw some shooting stars.

"Wow. They are so beautiful !", I said.

"Do you believe in them ? In wishing on stars ?", he asked me.

"Umm, I never tried it", I replied shrugging off.

"Well, then give a try. Choose one of them, close your eyes and wish what you want".

I did as he told me. I opened my eyes and found him smiling at my face. He asked me what had I wished for. And I replied to his question willingly.

"Some courage ? For what ?". Bewilderment clouded his face.

"To do this", and I grabbed his head, making our lips meet each other. I don't know how I became this brave suddenly or from where did I got all this strength ? We kissed insanely like we would never get a chance again.

I pulled back and saw his surprised look. It turned into a sweet smile and then to a series a laughter. I kept gaping at his handsome face shining in the starlight. Was he happy with my action or probably found it funny and thought I was stupid to believe in shooting stars?

He hugged me and said,"I guess... we both are lucky enough tonight. Both of our wishes came true".

And he kissed me again.

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9/3/2016