For a while, I tried to hate her. I thought she had been sent to mock me, to show Daniel and Chris I wasn’t worth keeping.
Her name is Nova. She’s named after a star, and she shines just as brightly. She has the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. She’s brave, like Simba fromThe Lion King. And she calls me her best friend.
She said it the day she stepped between me and a group of bullies, letting them hurt her instead of me. She just smiled at me afterward, exhausted, and I realized she trusted me. From then on, I trusted her.
Nova is as broken as I am. She hides her sadness behind a smile, but I can always see it.
Nova Elizabeth Dehlia Marshall isn’t just a ray of sunshine. She’s the sun. I never thought the sun could cry. And yet, it does when no one is watching.
She hides her sadness, giving up her own light just to brighten the world around her, to light up my sky. She tries to make me smile every day, especially at school, though I hate it there.
I can’t concentrate, and I think it’s pointless. I hate the teachers and my classmates. Everyone excepther. Nova helpsme endure. In class, I usually just drum my pen, doodle, or tear at my fingernails.
Since that day in the alley, she’s insisted on sitting beside me, even moving her desk. She takes notes for us both, and every afternoon we study together with Mrs. Morris, the old lady my parents pay to watch me while they’re at work.
Nova sneaks over when her mother is asleep. We do homework, play with Percy, watch MTV, build blanket forts, and watch movies.
She’s weird, but in the best way. She loves animals and nature obsessively. She hugs trees, talks to them, spends her allowance feeding stray animals. She says nature doesn’t judge like humans do.
I always stare in wonder when she weaves daisy chains, waters flowers in the school greenhouse, or builds bird nests under trees “just in case a baby bird falls out.”
Usually, I play the ukulele she gave me while she searches for insects in the meadow.
Someday, I hope to learn real guitar. For now, in music class, I’ve joined the piano group with Nova. It’s the only class I can focus on.
Nova always asks how I pick up instruments so quickly, and I ask how she knows the names of every animal and insect. She just laughs and throws her hands up in surrender.
Right now, she should be sitting beside me doing homework. But she isn’t. And I’m worried. I don’t trust her mother. I can see the way Nova flinches when she’s near. Maybe our stories aren’t identical, but I recognize fear when I see it.
I sigh, trying to focus on math while Mrs. Morris bakes a strawberry cheesecake. Nova’s favorite. My eyes dart between my notebook and the kitchen door over a hundred times. She’s never on time, but she’s never this late.
Maybe I should have walked her home after school. I’d have gone in with her, even though her mother hates me. I just want her here, safe.
An hour later, I finally finish my homework with Mrs. Morris’s help.
She sets a plate in front of me, a slice of cake and a glass of juice, and smiles warmly. “Eat up, honey. You did a great job.”
I nod, though I’m not hungry, and take a bite. It’s delicious.
I reach for my Lightning McQueen glass when the back door bursts open. Nova stands there, her expression shocked.
I rise instantly. Mrs. Morris does too, kneeling to place her hands on Nova’s shoulders. “Is everything okay, honey? Did something happen? Want a piece of cake? It’s your favorite.”
She fusses with Nova’s hair, but my best friend says nothing. She just looks at me.
I grab my plate and hold it out to her. Slowly, she takes it and eats, pretending it’s the best cake she’s ever tasted.
Mrs. Morris beams and returns to her dishes.
I lean closer. “Want me to help with your homework?”
Her eyes cloud again. She reaches out her hand. I take it.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
She nods, squeezing my fingers, trembling. “Can we go watch a movie upstairs?” I ask Mrs. Morris.
She nods kindly. Nova and I hurry upstairs. In my room, she pulls out pillows and blankets for our fort. I put on her favorite DVD—Barbie and the Island Princess. She hands me a Snickers bar, my favorite, and lies down with her head in my lap, as always when something bad has happened. But this time feels heavier.
