Fuck. I mutter it under my breath, but she must hear me, because she’s looking at me like I’m a five-year-old who just found out his puppy died or something. She rolls her stool closer to me. “You actually did a lot better than last time, Aiden. You’re up to 20/70 in your right eye.”

I hate that she’s smiling at me like there’s something to celebrate here. She’s right, it’s a huge improvement over 20/200. Congratulations, Aiden, you’re not legally blind at seventeen anymore! I bet they make banners for that; I’ll have to remember to swing by the giant party store on the way home. Oh, except I still can’t drive.

Just to add insult to injury, she puts drops in both eyes and then ushers me back into another waiting room. I pull out my phone, even though I know in five minutes I won’t be able to read it, and I send Olivia a text. I hate how yesterday went down.

Aiden:

I’m sorry

My vision blurs out before I get a response. Thirty minutes later, when I’ve been moved into another exam room, my screen is still sporting a single bubble. Come on, Olivia. I fire off one more text, unable to even read it on my own screen.

Aiden:

Having a shitty day. How are you?

But even when I leave in my green Ray Bans an hour later with a new prescription in hand, there’s no reply.

This day fucking sucks.

Chapter

Eighteen

OLIVIA

My ninth-grade English teacher, Mrs. Tedrowe, always said the tricky thing about personal essays is making them personal, but also universal. In theory, when teens—and especially the judges—are reading my essay, they should be nodding along. My favorite essays are usually ones that make me feel validated in some way. When Zander and I broke up, it made me think about this piece I had read at least a year before about a girl who married her high school sweetheart. Their story reminded me of Zander and me—childhood friends, entwined in each other’s families—but at the time, the rest didn’t ring true. Five years after getting married they were divorced. Because they weren’t the same people anymore. I didn’t get it then, but I get it now. I’ve changed so much this summer already. And I didn’t realize until it was over that even when we were together, we didn’t fit. But middle-school Olivia couldn’t let go of the idea of Zander.