underneath the sunny window

winking at me.

I grab one

fold it into

one rectangle

two rectangles

three rectangles

four.

I place it at the top

of my swimming bag

with a smile.

Teatime

Why don’t we both

try out for

the Center swim team?

Owais’s face

is happy.

Owais is the

athlete,

the one

with the medals and trophies.

I am okay,

but not good enough

to win a medal

or a trophy

or anything really—

at least not yet.

But when I see

Owais’s dark eyebrows

unstitched

I know I can win.

Maybe even a medal,

so that is why I ask.

That is why I say,

Let’s do it!

Maybe you can make

some friends,

adds Baba.

Definitely!

Enthusiasm

is

contagious.

Skin

At swim team tryouts

there is skin

skin

skin.

Arms and underarms

legs and thighs.

I am wearing leggings,

a swim shirt with sleeves.

And even though I am covered

covered

covered

I am scrutinized.

The odd one out,

again.

Dollop of Hope

The next day

at tryouts

one girl is there

wearing tights

and long sleeves

too!

She stands by me.

Does she know

I need a friend?

Before we dive

leaving a trail of bubbles

like hope behind us . . .

I’m Stahr!

I’m Nurah!

Pep Talk

Coach Kelly’s

hair is

curly,

bouncy,

like the tentacles

of an octopus.

But her voice is

low

and

rough.

If you make the team,

I expect

Winners

I expect

Medals

I expect

A strong team

I expect

You to do your best

I expect

Teamwork.

Any questions?

Stahr

Whose name has an extra h

but is pronounced like Star

finds me at school

before I go to

my safe triangle

underneath the stairwell.

Do you want to eat lunch with me?

8 words that change my life.

Stahr has freckles.

Not like me.

Stahr’s teeth are covered in metal.

Not like me.

Her eyes are pale green and gray.

Not like me.

She wears long sleeves

at school

all the time.

Just like me.

But one day at lunch,

she pulls up her sleeves,

and shows me the yellow,

the purple,

and the blue.

My dad hits us with his belt,

and cusses at us.

Don’t tell anyone, okay?

I am a good friend.

So I don’t.

Camouflage

I always wished I

had freckles,

but seeing Stahr’s,

I don’t think I would want

that many.

If Stahr wears green,

her eyes are green.

If Stahr wears gray,

her eyes are gray.

It doesn’t matter

what color I wear—

my eyes stay

dark dark brown.

Imagine

Underneath a sky

the color of promises

Stahr and I sit

at lunchtime

on a bench

in bright sunlight.

Imagine.

Difference

The difference between

having a friend

and not having a friend

can be told

from my face.

Before having a

friend

I would wear a mask

of silence.

I would not look here,

there,

everywhere,

but rather,

at the hallway floor.

Tile

after

tile.

With a friend,

I look here,