Wishing Day Read Free Page A

withdrawn.”
    â€œI’d still support you,” Ava said. “What are fake boobs?”
    â€œNothing,” Natasha said, looking hard at Darya.
    â€œDo you buy them?” Ava said. “How do you put them on?”
    â€œThey float down from the sky on a parachute,” Darya said, lying with her usual ease. She was so good at it, and so sleek , that Natasha sometimes wondered if she’d grow up to be a criminal mastermind.
    She wouldn’t. In her heart, Natasha knew Darya would never be a criminal. But Natasha might write a story about Darya the Criminal Mastermind, just for fun. Natasha loved writing as much as she loved reading, but her sisters didn’t know that part. She kept her journal tucked safely away from their busybody eyes.
    â€œAva, Darya is full of it,” Natasha said. “That is not how fake boobs work, you shouldn’t even be worrying about boobs, and . . . argh !”
    Darya smiled a pleased kitty-cat smile. Her skin glowed, and her insanely stunning hair caught the morning light. Unlike Natasha’s plain brown hair, Darya’s hair was long and red and curly. Soft as rain and shiny as Japanese candy wrappers. At school, she was kind of famous for it.
    â€œAnyway, I didn’t wish for orange marmalade or . . . that other thing,” Natasha said.
    â€œWhat did you wish for?” Ava asked. “And going to the great willow in the deep dark night—was it spooky or exciting or both? I can’t wait for my own Wishing Day.”
    â€œI can,” Darya said.
    â€œI want to be one of the girls whose wishes actually come true,” Ava continued. She sought Natasha’s gaze. “Do you think I will be?”
    â€œI hope so,” Natasha said. If anyone deserved to have her wishes come true, it was Ava. Ava’s would be good wishes, too. Like changing the world for the better and all that.
    Why didn’t Natasha wish for the world to be better? For starvation to go away, for every single war to end, and for everyone to get along?
    â€œMy wishes are private,” Natasha said.
    â€œHoly cow, you did wish for fake boobs!” Darya exclaimed.
    â€œUm, I didn’t, and you’re the one who keeps bringing them up. I think you want fake boobs.”
    Darya blushed, which was rare, and which meant that maybe she did. If nothing else, it meant that shenoticed boobs and cared about boobs and maybe even worried about boobs—as in, her boobs.
    Darya worried about the wrong things, Natasha thought. Like being “hot,” a word Natasha detested. It was gross. Seventh graders shouldn’t be hot or want to be hot. Darya also worried about hanging out with the right group of kids, as if kids could be “right” or “wrong” instead of just being themselves.
    Suddenly, a hole opened up inside Natasha, filling her with loneliness. She wasn’t sure why, but it had something to do with wishing that people could just be kind to each other.
    â€œDarya, you’re beautiful,” Natasha said.
    Darya looked caught out, but she recovered quickly. “Of course I am. Thank you for noticing.”
    Natasha rolled her eyes.
    â€œAm I beautiful?” Ava asked.
    â€œYes, Ava, you’re beautiful too,” Natasha said. “But there are so many things that are more important than how you look.”
    â€œWas ‘being beautiful’ one of your wishes?” Ava said.
    â€œNo!” Natasha said.
    â€œGood, because you already are,” Ava said. Shetwined her arms around Natasha’s waist and squeezed tight.
    â€œGirls!” Aunt Elena called. “Breakfast! And Darya, did you leave your empty Capri Sun pouch on the counter?”
    â€œNo, Aunt Elena, that was Natasha!” Darya said, rising from the bed.
    â€œIt was not!” Natasha called.
    Ava unpretzeled her legs. “Come on,” she said, pulling Natasha out of bed. “You can finish telling us about your