June 2018

Stella Addle pushed through the school building door, a wave of sound hitting her. Kids yelling and laughing, smiling and scowling. The air felt weighty; the anger, the confusion, pushing down on her shoulders, feeling heavy as bricks. Stella lugged her backpack to her locker. She stared at the lime green paint, then fiddled with her lock and pulled open the locker door. She dropped her backpack on the bottom of the locker and pulled out her math books and her calculator, which was covered in leftover heart stickers from Valentine’s Day. Usually seeing the stickers made her smile, but today she felt as though nothing could make her lips turn upward. This was a tragedy, an absolute tragedy. Forty five presidents and none of them had been women! Hillary Clinton should have won, she should have been the first woman president, but that stupid Donald Trump had to ruin everything! Stella thought as she slammed her locker shut with gusto. November 8th 2016 is going to be the worst day of my life! Stella walked to her homeroom, her legs feeling unsteady, her whole world feeling out of balance, broken. Feeling dizzy, she sat down and scanned the room for Gabby while taking in the rest of the scene. Gabriella Carmann had been Stella’s best friend since second grade. They did everything together; they had sleepovers and shared their deepest secrets with each other, they knew they could tease the other about their clothes and not offend them. They balanced each other out, Gabby was the flashy, stubborn, strong headed leader of the two, and Stella was the quieter, gentler one, keeping them away from heated drama. When Stella was around Gabby she felt a certain strength, a sense of courage that she didn’t feel when she was alone, as if some of Gabby’s confidence was magically seeping into her. For Gabby, Stella was the source of cool water that doused Gabby’s flames, the flames that burned the same color as her orange hair. It was because of Stella that Gabby was starting to find some of that water in herself, way deep down, but still it was there. Pink Finally she saw her: Gabby walked into the classroom sporting a pair of gray hand-me-down sweatpants from her older sister Franny, short for Frances, and a purple t-shirt with a turquoise flower print. Her denim backpack hug over her shoulder and her long red hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. This was Gabby’s usual look, so what surprised Stella was the smile that spread across Gabbys face. Stella knew Gabby and her family were Republican, but for some reason Stella never thought they would vote for Trump, or be happy if he won. Puzzled, Stella stood up and followed Gabby to her locker. “Hey,” Stella said leaning against one of the lockers. “Morning,” Gabby replied as she unpacked her backpack. “So…” Stella said nodding slowly. Thoughts were racing through her mind; conversation usually came easy to the two of them, why was it hard now? “What?” Gabby said. “What is it? What’s wrong?” You’re happy…. Trump’s our President-Elect…. Stella thought as she looked at the floor. “If something’s up, just tell me,” Gabby slammed her locker shut and stared at her friend. Just tell me. Please. “It’s just… you… are you glad Trump won?” Stella’s face turned red with shame. “Oh! Uh, yeah, I mean, I guess…. I mean my parents voted for him.” She thought we voted for Hillary? She knows we’re Republican, Gabby thought. The bell rang and the hallways were filled with noisy sixth, seventh, and eighth graders. Stella had math first period and Gabby had science. “I got to go. See you later?” Gabby asked. “Sure,” Stella said, and she turned and walked to math, wondering what had just happened. *          *          * Stella plopped down in her chair, feeling exhausted. Family dinners were an important part of the Addle household and usually Stella enjoyed them, especially on lasagna nights like these, but not tonight. Margaret Addle, Stella’s mom, placed the lasagna on the table and sat down across from her husband. Usually, though it was only the three of them, the table buzzed with conversation, a light and fluffy happiness, almost as delicious as Mrs. Addle’s cooking, hanging in the air. Tonight however, the air felt heavy and cold and the conversation that usually flowed easily, had vanished. “ Did Stella’s parents know Gabby’s parents had voted for Trump? “Well, how was everyone’s day?” Mr. Addle asked. His eyes were wide and he had an awkward smile. He began scooping lasagna onto plates. “Where do I begin!?” Mrs. Addle rolled her eyes, looking generally annoyed. “Sarah and Megan were talking about the election during our lunch break, and guess what?” She put a fork full of lasagna into her mouth. Sarah and Megan were some of Mrs. Addle’s coworkers. “What?” Mr. Addle asked. Stella looked back and forth between her parents, she could tell this was not a good “guess what.” “They both voted for Trump! Both of them!” Mrs. Addle was yelling now. “Women! Women voted for Trump! They’re uneducated women, that’s what they are!” She let out a heavy sigh. “Uneducated women,” she said, shaking her head. Stella stared at her mother. She had never seen her like this: yelling, looking close to tears, yet not sad. “Margaret, please, calm down,” Mr. Addle said putting a hand on his wife’s hand. Stella kept looking at her mother. Mrs. Addle’s blue eyes looked foggy and gray. Her body shook with anger, but slowly as she got back her cool, the anger lessened and a sadness settled in. Her shoulders sagged and Stella noticed something she had never seen in her mother before: helplessness. Suddenly a frightening thought came to Stella, and her parents conversation about taxes and broken printers at work became muffled and hard to hear. Gabby said her parents voted for