To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Consideration for The Teen Stars Program

Dear Michelle Henshaw,

I'm Belinda Quincy from Los Angeles. I'm 15 and very interested in The Teen Stars Program.

I've been blogging for two years now, and both my blog and YouTube channel are doing great. I won the 'Are You a Math Whiz?' competition in 2018, and I'd really love a chance in your program.

It's been my dream for years now, and the way you transform lives is really amazing.

I'd love to hear from you soon.

Sincerely, Belinda Quincy.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" Viola ran into school, chanting the 'Oh my God!' mantra.

She didn't take a ride with Bella because she overslept. The weekend was super gritty, and she hardly got any sleep. The bags under her eyes were a testament to her sleepless and crying-filled nights. Life had not been fair to her lately. It had been really, really dark, and she hated it.

She hated feeling like she was a bad luck magnet—like she had been left out on the universe's blessings.

She turned the corner that led to the lockers and, instead of getting a free runway, bumped really hard into someone, so hard, the person fell.

See! Bad luck. On Monday, it was Amora. Today, it was Amparo Cotton. The girl gathered the skirt of her dress, then looked up, screwing her face.

"Are you mad?!" she screamed, gaining some attention.

"I am so sorry. I didn't know you were there." Viola stretched her right hand to her, to help her up, but Amparo slapped the hand away with her perfectly manicured one.

She stood, rubbed her palms together to get dirt off, then cleaned her white dress, which was a bit longer at the back.

"I'm sorry," Viola said again. but the girl lifted a palm to shut her up.

"Don't you even dare give me that 'I'm sorry' crap. Do you have any idea how much this dress costs? Now it's wrinkled and dirty."

Geez! Just because she was pushed?

"Look, I'm really sorry, but I have to go." She attempted to walk past her, but Amparo stepped in her way, then pushed her back.

Viola's tiredness made her stumble more than necessary.

"You wanna walk out on me?"

"What else do you want me to do? I already apologized."

"How about you pay for pushing me down?"

"I really need to go..." Another attempt to walk away earned her another push, harder than the first.

She stumbled back and was about falling, but strong arms suddenly grabbed both of hers. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at the owner of the voice and, for a second, couldn't utter a word. The force at which he caught her had caused his hair to fall over his face, and he steadied her before pushing it back. "Um, yeah. I'm fine. Thanks."

"Hellooo, I'm still here."

Their attention was drawn back to the girl standing in front of them, her hands on her hips.

"Just leave her alone," the boy said, and Amparo's eyes widened.

"What did you just say?"

"I said, leave her alone. She apologized for pushing you, right?"

"You're lucky you're cute," she said, before pointing a finger to Viola and saying, "You'll pay for this." Then she walked away.

"Sorry about that," he said.

"It's fine. Thanks for stepping in."

"You're welcome... and you might want to avoid her."

"Way ahead of you."

She took that moment to study the boy who kind of saved her life. He was taller than her with a head, and his brown hair was pushed away from his face. He was of normal build—tennis player-like—and looked approachable.

"So, I'll see you around," he said, giving a smile.

"Sure."

He walked past her, and she turned to face his retreating figure. She wasn't sure what was wrong with her, but she stood where she was for a while, staring in the direction he left.

Then her eyes widened when it hit her. "Oh God!" she exclaimed again, then continued her run to the lockers.

Bella stood by her open locker, phone in hand. She scrolled through her apps for the millionth time, then checked her emails for the bazillionth time. Why and how was there still nothing?

"Aw, come on, it's been thirty-seven hours!" she complained to no one, then went back to scroll through her applications.

She sent the email to Michelle Henshaw at exactly six on Saturday, and her eyes hadn't left the phone screen ever since. She knew this was going to happen. She felt it in her bones. But what did she do? She went ahead and sent the email, just because a boy told her to.

She knew boys didn't exactly make the best choices, but she didn't know they were terrible advisers as well.

Note to self, never take advice from a boy again. No matter how gorgeous he is.

Was she doing something wrong? Was she doing it all wrong? Did she do it all wrong? Were there typos in the email? Definitely not. She read the thing a hundred times. What about grammatical errors? Wrong use of tenses? Or, did she get Michelle's email address wrong? What was going on?

Or, maybe Michelle got it but wasn't replying because she was busy. Yes, that had to be it.

"Bella, Bella, Bella, Bella, Bella!" Viola exclaimed, running towards her.

Bella looked in her direction and couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. As soon as she was within literal arms length, Bella pulled her into a bone-pulverizing hug. "My sweetheart! I missed you so much."

Viola managed to release herself from her grip, then gave a nervous smile. "Don't get me wrong, I missed you too, but I have a problem."

"What?"

"I forgot to do my math homework."

Bella playfully rolled her eyes. "Why bother? The math superheroine is here."

"It would've been that easy... if the homework sheet was here."

Bella's eyes widened. "You left it at home?"

"I know," she groaned. "I overslept and was in a hurry, and I didn't realize it wasn't in my backpack until I was halfway here."

"Viola!"

"I know! Mr. Cian's going to kill me to death."

Bella stifled a laugh at her best friend's silliness. "That doesn't make sense."

"I know, Bella. I know. What do I do? I don't want detention in the second week of school."

Her phone pinged as she opened her mouth to answer, and she glanced at it. "You... could just give your mom a call and have her bring it for you." She glanced at the phone again, and when she looked back at Viola, she saw her frozen.

"Um," Viola started, "my mom's not at home. She... went out—went out with the car."

Bella could sense something was wrong, but couldn't bring herself to ask. Google said not to push it, and her mom gave it a Confirmed stamp. What was up with Viola's mom?

"Why didn't you do your homework in the first place?" she found herself asking.

Viola didn't say anything, just fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. She wound it around her finger, looking anywhere but her best friend's face.

"Viola?" Bella reached to place an arm on her shoulder, but the arm only made it halfway when a voice sounded behind her.

"'Sup, Quincy?"

She spun to face the owner of the gravelly voice, and air was immediately sucked out of her lungs.

"Do you have a minute?" Hotter-than-a-heatwave Travon Justice stood in front of her, a piece of paper in his hand.

"Um, sure."

"Thanks. I'm, uh, the captain of the coding club, and we kind of have an opening spot, so I thought I'd ask you."

Travon was talking to her for the first time, and it was about a coding club? She didn't do coding. Coding, to her, was like eating guacamole and mashed beans, with a side of peanut butter juiced with garlic. No offense, but she was more into looking at Viola's designs and imagining them as real dresses, sewn with various kinds of fabric, and spending countless hours on the Internet.

"Uh, I... really, actually, definitely don't know how to code. I don't even know the basics... or anything about it."

"Oh, that's fine. The spot isn't necessarily for someone who knows how to code. The principal needs solid evidence of the meetings we hold, and we just need someone to film for us."

Now filming was another thing she was interested in. She remembered her 'Important' list. Number four, precisely: spy on TQJ.

TQJ—short for The Queen's Justice—was an acronym her and Viola came up with sometime the previous year as a code name for him, for when they wanted to have secret conversations. Bella's crush on him began suddenly and so quickly, she didn't even realize when it happened. She just noticed she loved the feeling she got whenever she saw him—which wasn't very often.

Accepting to film for his club would not only give her more excuses to be with a camera, but also assist her in her spying. She could watch him all day... or for however long their meetings lasted.

"You can think about it if you want. Here's the schedule, in case you make up your mind." He handed the paper in his hand to her. "The meeting location's included."

She looked down at the piece of paper, then back up at his face. She wanted to agree there and then, but wouldn't doing that make her seem too desperate? The last thing she wanted was for Travon to think she was overly desperate. She'd just think about it, then accept the next day. Play hard to get a bit.

"Sure. I'll let you know if I decide or not," she finally said with a smile.

"Cool. Just, please, don't take too long deciding. We'll have to organize everything before the first meet on Wednesday."

"Don't worry. I'll reply soon."

"Thanks." With that, he left, and she wanted to place the paper on her chest and look up dreamily, while releasing a lovestruck sigh, but she remembered the girl with the homework problem behind her.

"So, what do we...?" She trailed off, seeing her friend was gone.

Why would she leave like that?

The bell rang, and she put the piece of paper she was holding in her locker, glanced at her phone one last time, before putting it in her backpack and going to homeroom. She'd have to worry about Viola later.

* * *

"Why don't you just text her? You know, to be sure she's not in detention."

Bella looked to her left at Cody, who was leaning against the car like she was. They had been waiting for Viola in the school's parking lot for five minutes. "I'll try, but I doubt she'll reply," she said, taking out her phone. "She's been ignoring me all day."

She just didn't get what was up with her. Walking away when she wasn't looking. Rushing out of Chemistry and leaving her copy of Frankenstein behind—though Bella couldn't understand what that was doing in the chemistry room—then disappearing in the hallway. Since then, she hadn't heard a word from her.

Hey where are you?? Cody and I are waiting.

She waited.

For a second. Two. Three. One minute. One minute and thirty seconds. Then Viola appeared. Only, she wasn't like Viola. She looked like she crawled out of a zombie movie.

Her eyes were red and swollen, her backpack drooping off her shoulder, hanging on for dear life, and her hair was damp, clinging like gum to her scalp.

Cody's posture straightened and he made to move to her, but she walked past him like he wasn't there, pulled the passenger door open, and got in.

Bella stared at her in shock, not knowing what to say for a few seconds. "V-Viola?" she finally let out.

"Just take me home," Viola said, looking straight ahead.

Cody was confused, Bella was shocked, and Viola was obviously extremely sad about something.

As Bella got into the backseat of the car, she spotted Beau looking in their direction, looking oddly concerned, and, despite the situation, she couldn't help the jump of her heartbeat.

* * *

YMMD - Internet acronym for 'You Made My Day'. The letters stand for other things too, but this is what it means for this chapter. Shoutout to everyone reading! ♡