Kate and her pet mouse set out to scale colossal, rocky Mt. Treacherous “Squeak!” I was feeding my pet mouse, Hammy, some savory cheese I’d ripped off my sandwich. My eyes, as blue as the sea that peeked over the top of the trees and poked around the mountain that loomed above us, gazed affectionately at him. His cheeks were ballooned up, his eyes were bright and full of life, his fluffy grey fur was glowing in the morning sun, and his tiny but sharp claws held the cheese tight. I was sitting with my legs crossed on a bench as rough as sandpaper, but it never had given me a splinter. I wore a light dress and simple shoes. My cheeks were as pink as a rose, and my hair went from brown to a gold like the sun when it has just risen. I wore earrings the color of the lovely lavender that grows in a clearing in the forest; they are made out of a pearl and shaped into a heart. I had my hair in a braid to keep it neat while I worked. After we were done with our breakfast, I put Hammy in my pocket and went out to milk the cow. I came back a few minutes later holding two buckets full of milk that looked like the milk that comes out of a dandelion stem when you pull it out of the ground to make a wish. I gave the buckets to my mother to strain and make into cheese. I went outside and grabbed a dandelion. I blew a warm stream of air at it and watched the fluffy seeds float into the sky till they disappeared. I gazed across the freshwater lake that was right outside our village. As I gazed there, I remembered that I wished for an adventure and, if I looked, I would find one. And if I did, I would be ready. At dusk I sat on the bench and gazed outside at the mountain above us. Then an idea popped into my head like popcorn does when it’s roasted over a fire. I would climb that mountain! It didn’t have an official name, but most people called it Mt. Treacherous. Maybe because not everyone who climbed up climbed down, or was seriously injured, or fell off the mountain. But those thoughts didn’t stop me! That night I grabbed Hammy and a backpack with water, food, blankets as soft as a sheep, a flashlight, a strong rope, and mouse food. As I was walking to the door, my dad asked, “Where are you going?” I replied as calmly as I could, “On an adventure.” “Well, good luck,” he responded. I ran through the forest and stopped at the mountain. It was even bigger standing right next to it. As I started up, a wrecking ball of wind hit me and knocked my backpack off. I managed to grab it, but when I jerked it out of the sky, the rope, some of Hammy’s food, and one of the wool blankets fell out and got blown to who knows where. At first, I almost gave up, but then I encouraged myself and kept going. Making it to a ledge, I curled up like a pill bug with Hammy still in my pocket and fell asleep. When I woke up, I went on. I walked for a bit, then started climbing the steep wall. Sweat dripped down my forehead and stung my eyes. I didn’t once peek down at the ground, for I knew I would fall and hit my head on the rocks that stuck out from the cliff. Though without them, I would never have been able to climb up this steep slope. My arms and legs were tingling like they do when your foot is asleep, yet this time they were tingling from tiredness. I could see the top of the cliff—I was so close! I was so pumped by seeing the top that I didn’t notice that the ledge I was reaching for was covered in yucky-colored moss, and it was like water to hold on to. My hand slipped, sending me wobbling, and I lost my footing on the ledge. I fell down fast! The wind was echoing in my ears, and I felt so helpless. I thudded in a thick bush that stopped me from getting anything more than a few scratches and some bruises the color of the sky at sunset. When I tried to stand up, I got pulled back down to the ground and quickly saw that my foot was caught in a branch. I jerked my leg to get it unstuck. Though I was successful, I lost my balance. I could feel Hammy’s toothpick-like claws grabbing my pocket and squeaking up a storm. I fell off the ledge and into a river. “Wow, we sure are lucky!” I said to Hammy after grasping the side. The water made me shiver from my spine, and even more when the cold wind hit me. I scanned the surrounding area and saw a path that was pretty narrow and steep with shrubs surrounding it. The climb was still hard, but it was easier than going back the way we came. As I glanced around absorbing the lovely scenery, I thought, Maybe everything will work out. And with that, I went on. I trudged up the steep slope with Hammy in my pocket, still shivering from his dip in the river. “That river felt like liquid ice!” I said, drying my hair. Hammy squeaked in agreement. As we climbed higher, we saw fewer trees and bushes. We mostly saw small, sun-beaten shrubs clinging onto the rocky edges. About a minute later, I was standing on the top of the mountain, proud as a sailor who had just discovered a new island. It was getting late. A cool evening breeze dried off my soaking hair and ruffled Hammy’s dense, grey fur. I

Naomi and Oscar are best friends, and they do the same thing every day—or at least, they used to Naomi Keith’s feet slapped the cracked pavement of the sidewalk. She scoured the streets of Cedar Key, their small Florida town, looking for any interesting people. Her best friend, Oscar Hernandez, walked next to her. Suddenly, she spotted a middle-aged woman wearing wrinkled khaki long pants, even in ninety-degree June weather, and a puffy black jacket. She had a baseball cap pulled low and her phone was shoved near her face. She looked rather cross. A perfect suspect. Naomi nudged Oscar and pointed discreetly at the woman walking on the other side of the street. “That woman . . . is actually a certified genius. She attends an elite top college that almost nobody knows about, and she’s one of five people there. She’s working on designing an app like FaceTime but you only have to move your lips and the device you’re using will read your lips and what you’re saying will appear as text on the other person’s screen.” Naomi paused for a breath. “She looks mad because the app isn’t working right. Also, she has been working day and night on it and hasn’t been able to get much sleep. She hasn’t been able to change clothes, so that’s why her pants are wrinkled. Her face is close to the screen because . . . the translator isn’t working and the other person is getting something like ‘Pig sit docking?’ instead of ‘Is this working?’ so she puts her mouth as close to the screen as possible.” Naomi grinned. That was her best one for the day yet, by far. She looked to Oscar for feedback, but to her surprise, he was looking longingly at the posse of popular boys who were monkeying around on the nearby skate park. “Oscar! Did you even listen to my story? It was the best one yet,” Naomi said, annoyed. “What? Oh, yeah, it was good.” But Naomi could tell that he hadn’t really been listening. “Um, hey, Naomi?” Oscar said suddenly, after a minute of awkward silence. “Yeah?” Naomi said, thinking he meant to apologize. “Um, would you mind if I join those guys over there?” He jerked his thumb over to the direction of the skate park, taking Naomi by surprise. “But . . . you don’t skate,” was all Naomi could manage to get out. “I’m sure I can borrow one of the guys’ boards. Please, Na? Just today. We’ll walk again tomorrow.” “Sure . . .” Naomi replied uncertainly. But she wasn’t so certain she wanted Oscar to go. “Thanks, Na. You’re the best,” Oscar called. “Yeah,” Naomi mumbled once he was out of earshot. “But you still don’t want to hang out with me.” Her feelings hurt, she trudged home, not even stopping for a mango smoothie to cool her down. After all, that was something she only did with Oscar. And clearly he didn’t want to hang out with her anymore. He was her best (and only) friend. They had been playing together since preschool and would go on walks every day. As they walked, they would look at passersby and imagine stories about them. It was her favorite time of the day. She looked forward to being with Oscar. But now, apparently, he was ditching her for those crazy skateboarding boys. She sighed in relief when she reached her house. “How was your walk?” her mother asked, wiping perspiration from her forehead. She had been cleaning out the attic for a garage sale, which was a taxing task. “Mmm,” Naomi mumbled, not wanting to talk about it. She shuffled up the stairs and into her room. She closed her window, which was now just letting in the humid Florida summer air, and switched on her fan. It whirred to life and blew cold air at her sweaty face. She lined the fan up by her bed and flopped onto it to think, staring at the cracks and water stains in the ceiling as she did so. Did I do something wrong? I don’t think so. I was just telling a story about that woman, which was perfectly okay because just moments earlier he had been telling a story about that guy in his fancy Lexus zooming down the street way too fast. That was a funny one. Although come to think of it . . . it didn’t have as much detail as Oscar’s stories usually have. And he was kinda distracted as he told it. I thought he was just thinking about what to say next, but apparently not. And why would he want to hang out with the posse of popular boys? They’re annoying and immature . . . and he doesn’t even skate! Naomi sighed and rubbed her temples. It was all so confusing! Suddenly, a new thought occurred to her: is it possible that he thinks that being friends with a girl when we’re twelve is weird? She mulled this one over for quite some time, finally deciding that it was the most reasonable answer—but also the one that she liked the least. Why would it be weird? Everybody in their small Florida town knew that Oscar and Naomi were best friends. It was just a fact, like everyone knew little Mrs. White was widowed. It was just . . . a thing. Nobody acted weird if they saw Naomi and Oscar together. Is it possible that he thinks that being friends with a girl when we’re twelve is weird? She puzzled a little more until dinner, where she was unusually quiet. She focused on picking at her food, cold soba noodles with cabbage and pork, and keeping a bite in her mouth at all times. That night, sleep did not come easily. Naomi tossed and turned, the events of the afternoon replaying themselves over and over in her mind. Eventually, at 11:30, she managed to fall into a light