Free Wishing Day by Lauren Myracle

lips.
    â€œBedave,” Molly said, turning to Natasha. A grin stretched across her face.
    â€œDalinda,” Natasha said.
    Molly held up her palm. Natasha gave her a high five.

    Â Â Â Â Â 
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  I wish Klara wasn’t so sad.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  I wish I could make her feel better.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  — E LENA K OVROV, AGE THIRTEEN

CHAPTER TEN
    A week passed. Natasha didn’t receive any more notes.
    Another week passed, and on Friday, Natasha’s English teacher talked to the class about “the ides of March.” Natasha already knew what the ides of March were. It was a fancy way of saying March fifteenth, which was tomorrow, and which was Ava’s birthday.
    Tomorrow, Ava would turn twelve, which meant that she’d be the same age as Darya. She and Darya would both be twelve until Darya’s birthday in August, when Darya would turn thirteen. Then Darya and Natasha would both be thirteen until Natasha’sbirthday rolled around again in November.
    It wasn’t a normal family configuration, Natasha knew. Papa and Mama had popped out three baby girls in quick succession, bam bam bam . But it was normal for Natasha. She was used to it. She knew nothing else, since Darya had come along before Natasha was a year old, and Ava had joined the pack less than a year after that.
    â€œAva came early” was her autopilot response when kids asked how the three sisters could be so close in age. Early and teensy and perfect, twelve years ago tomorrow.
    As Natasha walked from English class to her locker, she thought about her birthday present for Ava. It was a gold necklace with a crystal-encrusted heart dangling from the middle. It glittered and sparkled, just right for Ava.
    The hall was packed with kids. The air smelled like books and Pop-Tarts. Outside, the weather was gloomy, but inside, everything was bright and cozy. Everyone was cheerful, including Natasha.
    She reached her locker, twisted the lock, and pulled on the latch. It didn’t open. She banged it with her fist. It still didn’t open. Benton saw her struggling with it,and he strode over and banged on it himself. The door sprang open.
    â€œThanks,” Natasha said.
    â€œNo problem,” Benton said. He turned to go.
    â€œBut I banged on it too,” she said, casting about for a way to keep him there longer. “Why did it work for you and not for me?”
    Benton turned back. “You have to hit it in the right spot.”
    â€œI did!”
    â€œWell, and you kind of have to be me. I am pretty awesome.”
    â€œ Ohhhhh , of course,” Natasha said, fizzy with delight. They were flirting , maybe-possibly-practically. She fought not to smile too widely. “What was I thinking?”
    Benton grinned. Then he looked worried. “You do know I’m kidding, right?”
    â€œWait—you’re not awesome?”
    â€œNo, I am, but . . .”
    He floundered. Natasha kept her expression innocent, but on the inside, she was buzzing.
    He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back on his heels, and said, “Ah- ha . Pretty tricky, Natasha Blok.”
    The way he spaced out the syllables was adorable: prih-tee trih-kee .
    The way he said her name made her skin tingle.
    â€œThat was funny,” Benton said, nodding. “That was good.” He looked at her in a new way. “There’s more to you than people think, isn’t there?”
    â€œBenton!” a guy called from down the hall. “Dude, you’re holding us up!”
    â€œDude, chill,” Benton called back. Then he said, “All right, well, see you around, Natasha,” and he loped off to join his friends.
    That afternoon, Natasha lay on her bed and re-played the moment. She tried to decide what it meant, if it had meant anything at all.
    She wanted it to have meant something, very much. But