Stargirl

"She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to corkboard like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew" (Spinelli).

The night of the prom was a night I could never forget. I didn't go, but I did ride my bicycle around the area, sneaking a peek here and there. Then she showed up. Everyone froze as she stepped in, in her bright, rich yellow gown. I stopped to watch. Soon she began dancing through the night. Everyone was still staring at her in amusement, but she didn't care. Stargirl never cared what they thought. She went right on dancing. Before I knew it, most of the people joined her and with Stargirl in the lead, they danced the night away. It was because of Stargirl that they had the time of their lives. And that was the last anyone's ever saw of her. It was... depressing... to lose such a wonderful girl.

Stargirl won the state speech contest. Her speech was unlike anything anyone's ever heard of. She didn't prepare it, but it sounded amazingly beautiful. She wore a big smile on her face-- until the moment she returned to her school. Stargirl expected the whole school to crowd around her, cheering for her. But, no, the opposite was true. The school was barren, except for two teachers and Stargirl's friend, Dori. I felt really bad for Stargirl. This just wasn't what she had been expecting all this time.

Haha, forget everything I said before. Everything didn't go back to normal. Susan tried to change her wardrobe and, well-- almost everything, but the looks didn't really matter to them. People still gave me the "silent treatment". Even now Kevin, my best buddy, was backing away. Nothing made sense to me anymore.

Okay. So then I decided to try to make Stargirl "normal" and be like "the popular people". I tried explaining that she didn't fit in, and soon Stargirl transformed into a girl a rarely knew: Susan. She changed her name to Susan because I told her that Stargirl isn't a normal name. And now, instead of her yellow flowered dress and a ukulele with Cinnamon, her rat, on her shoulder, she now dressed like any other girl in the school. She totally blended in. I was really happy that moment. No, wait, not only happy, I was proud. It felt like a was a lost piece of a jigsaw puzzle who found his way back to its spot. I no longer felt separated, ignored, or uncomfortable being with Susan. For once, she was "NORMAL".