And the one who had shouted—she was seemingly the only person on the platform who paid attention to May. A long, lingering look, encompassing May and her mother, the aura of ‘fun’ momentarily dampened by what May imagined was a pitiable sight.

It was a moment that struck her as profound, the kind of moment she imagined would be with her forever.

And that girl, who looked like she could have been May’s sister, who could have been one of the many, many people who evacuated Japan after the attack, who might have changed her name to be more American like May had changed hers, she would probably forget this momentary meeting of eyes. May’s heart swelled with a childish sort of longing, a mad desire that—if she could only push that feeling out, couldn’t it be the kind of wish that drove fairy tales?

I want to be you.

I want the clothes off your body, so I can wrap myself in them and be them. I want the friends who are pinching and shoving you and laughing with you.

“Which are you focusing on?”

“The singing.”

An encouraging rub of the shoulders, reminding her of how thin the fabric was, how scratchy it was. The pleated wool uniform skirt was worse, but it at least didn’t touch her legs when she wasn’t sitting down.

“You’re going to mess up the ironing if you keep rubbing like that.” Another deflection, a diversion.

The hands dropped away.

“Remember to smile. You never smile enough,” the voice in her ear said. “You have such a pretty smile.”

May nodded. The deflections and diversions were only that. It was like kicking at the water at the edge of a beach, creating a momentary divot that was immediately filled in, pressing in from all sides.

I want a life that’s a balance of life and work, not weeks of waiting for a break in my schedule, so I can have a scheduled, calculated few hours of fun. This movie, because it will help with my English and because it’s a classic. An actual playdate for a thirteen-year-old, my ‘date’ chosen carefully, because their parents are the right people and they’ve never been in trouble.

“I’m so proud of you. I know you’re going to be great. If we aren’t late. Are you still visualizing the singing?”

“Yeah. I murdered the time, when I ran through it with Ms. B.”

Nervous hands fluttered at her collar, fingernails running along her neck as fingertips and thumbs pinched at the fold, pressing it tighter. Fingers brushed imaginary dust off her shoulders. May’s hands remained clasped in front of her.

“Where is that train?”