Mila couldn’t remember when she’d had a better day in her life; certainly not since her brother had disappeared so many years ago. She looked shyly across the table at ShayAnne, who obliviously wrote in her notebook, her brow furrowed in concentration. For what was probably the millionth time, Mila couldn’t help but notice how really beautiful ShayAnne was. The gorgeous red curls were as bouncy as her personality, and the way the light clung to them gave her that angel’s halo glow that other girls would have killed to have.

ShayAnne shut her notebook with a satisfied little snap and looked up. Picking up her cup of coffee, she said, “You know what? I’m so glad we came out here. It was great of you to come all this way.”

“I’m having fun,” Mila said honestly. She took another sip of her coffee and listened to the sound of her own heartbeat thrumming wildly in her ears.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never had an iced cappuccino before,” Shay mused, looking at Mila the way she so often did when Mila said or did something that was out of character for a girl her age.

Mila tried not to turn red, but it was hard when she knew that she was standing out; she didn’t want to stand, she wanted to fit in! She kicked herself mentally. She needed to remember to just go with the flow more often, to remember that if she didn’t know what something was she ought to just shut her mouth and nod her head.

“Well, it’s late,” ShayAnne said with a sigh. “You ready to head back?”

Mila nodded and the two girls pushed back their chairs, gathered their belongings and headed out of the coffeehouse in Tonnesfort. Once they were safely cased in ShayAnne’s jeep again, they chatted a bit more about their day at the museum, Shay’s classes, and life in general. Mila smiled at her friend, thinking how easy she was to be around. Though they’d only known each other for a short time, Mila felt as if she’d known the redhead for years.

They had plenty to talk about during the hour and a half drive back to Jasmine Falls. ShayAnne liked to yak, and Mila was more than happy to listen to the other girl’s dulcet voice explain the world from her point of view. Everything fascinated Mila, especially the new television programs she’d seen at the motel. She and the Hawke heiress shared a similar interest in animated programs, and this spurned a lively discussion of character preferences and episode comparisons. By the time they reached the Lantern, Mila was breathless from her laughter.

She said goodnight to ShayAnne as she exited the jeep, and smiled when the redhead gave her a cheery wave. Mila let herself into her room and flopped down on the bed, blissfully happy. She fell asleep with a smile on her face, and never dreamed that her newly sparkling life was about to be tarnished forever.

Raised voices from outside woke Mila from her dreamless slumber. She groggily peered around the room, listening vaguely to the threats from outside her door. Momentarily she got up and padded to the window. Peeling back the corner of the musty curtain, Mila peeked out on the breezeway and was horrified to see her mother having a rather heated discussion with the proprietor.

She dropped the curtain, frozen with fear. Her mother had found her. Her life was ruined. She was still wearing her jeans and t-shirt; maybe she could make a run for it. Out the tiny bathroom window? Maybe, but it was still only a matter of time before her mother caught up with her. Mila wanted to cry, she wanted to sit down and sob for her life, but thoughts of ShayAnne bubbled to the surface and kept her from giving in to the urge.

She shoved her feet into her tennis shoes, grabbed her backpack and crammed as many of her new clothes into it as she could. She would have to come back and give the owner the rest of the money she owed him. She felt a twinge of sadness at having to leave behind her used suitcase full of clean clothes. It was immediately washed by a feeling of guilt at leaving the desk clerk in the lurch for her payment, but for now, she had to get out of here.

She zipped the backpack shut and ran lightly into the bathroom. A tiny, frosted window made up the narrow space above the sink. Balancing herself on the impossibly small vinyl countertop, Mila pried open the window and forced her backpack through it. She followed as quickly as she could, her shoulders only narrowly escaping permanent lodging. She fell into a heap in the dirty alley and got up without bothering to dust herself off. She scooped up her backpack and ran like hell up the road. If her mother decided to drive up this street, or even past it, she would see Mila, and in her car, Mila would not be able to evade her. On foot, she knew her only hope was to remain unseen so that she could not be a target.

She ran, panting, up the hill where the houses began to thin, kept running as her lungs began to burn and her side began to stitch up. She ran full tilt up the long slope toward the Hawke Ranch, never looking back as fear spurred her on.

She arrived at the front door of the manor without realizing what she was doing. She stood on the porch, gasping for air, panic-stricken and shaking all over. Should she knock? She couldn’t stand out here; what if her mother came looking for her and saw her there? But it was still early in the morning, and Mila didn’t know what to do. The desire to weep threatened to overwhelm her again and Mila took several shuddering breaths to fight against it.

“Em?”

Mila turned slightly and saw ShayAnne standing on the bottom step wearing a track suit and a music player. When she saw Mila’s desperate face, she went to her immediately and put her arm around her.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” the redhead asked. Mila shook her head fiercely, still afraid her mother was going to come up behind her at any minute.

“Well, here,” ShayAnne said, reaching out and turning the door knob. A gentle push sent the door swinging open, and the two girls crossed the threshold into the house together. As soon as the heavy door was shut behind them, Mila felt a huge rush of relief run through her. She was safe inside here, for now at least. Even if her mother drove past, she wouldn’t be able to see Mila. If she got out and asked, however, that would be another matter. Mila struggled to remain calm as ShayAnne brushed the hair out of her eyes and said, “You’re all sweaty. What happened?”

But Mila just shook her head again, unsure of what answer to give. ShayAnne observed her concernedly for a few moments, then decided, “Well, come up and take a shower. Maybe you’ll feel better after that. Okay?”

Mila nodded this time, grateful for the other girl’s friendship and compassion. She followed the redhead up the stairs and down the cream-carpeted hallway to the bedroom suite that ShayAnne called home.

In the bathroom, Mila received a fluffy green towel, a thick, matching wash cloth, and instructions on where to find the shampoo. ShayAnne went out, pulling the door shut after herself. Mila opened the glass shower door and turned on the taps, leaving her hand in the stream of water until it heated up. She disrobed quickly, leaving her clothes in a puddle on the floor as she stepped under the hot water. She began scrubbing herself down quickly, still worried about what might happen. Her heart was pounding wildly in her rib cage, as if it could fly out of her chest at any moment. The sinking feeling of foreboding refused to leave her; something bad was going to happen, she just knew it. She rinsed herself clean and was about to turn off the water when the bathroom door swung open and ShayAnne waltzed back in.

“Sorry,” she said, “I just wanted to grab my--”

She looked up and caught Mila’s naked reflection in the mirror through the glass door, and suddenly ShayAnne began shrieking, screaming and screaming at the top of her lungs as Mila, terrified, grabbed her towel and held it over her nude body. ShayAnne just kept on screaming at her, even as Mila grabbed her clothes and her backpack and raced out of the house in ultimate distress, still naked and wet and clinging to the green towel. She ran unchecked through the cherry orchard, tears streaming down her face as she dodged the trees, sobbing in time to ShayAnne’s horror-stricken voice echoing in her ears, “You’re a boy! You’re a boy! You’re a boy! My God, you’re a boy!”