Generation Misfits

by Akemi Dawn Bowman

  Millie and her friends spun in time to the music, their voices soaring into the room so easily that she felt like she was in a dream. Luna moved like her soul was connected to the sound waves. Ashley, with their fluid but precise movements, was the epitome of cool. Zuki’s enthusiasm was infectious. And Rainbow was alive. It was like a shooting star had taken control of her body, and she was dancing across the stage, throwing a hand out to the crowd with the attitude of someone who’d performed a million times before.

  And Millie had never been prouder to call them her friends.

  When the dance sequence started, the lights flashed before sending the stage into different colors of the rainbow. All five of them danced with everything they had, nailing every step of the choreography the way Luna always told them they would. Millie became so lost in the performance that she forgot there was a crowd at all. All she knew was that she was a part of something special. Something unforgettable.

  They hit another pose, and then another, and sang the final verse of the song with their whole entire hearts. And then they all came together, hit their last pose, and felt the spotlights illuminate the stage.

  When it was all over, Millie remained frozen, feeling her breath caught in her throat.

  Her heart thumped. And thumped. And thumped.

  And then the audience got on their feet and erupted in cheers.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  “A standing ovation!” Zuki cried, shoveling another scoop of frozen yogurt into her mouth. “I’m still in shock.”

  Millie giggled euphorically as she took another bite—hers was coconut flavored and covered in pieces of mochi. “Me too. Didn’t it seem like they were clapping for forever?”

  “I’m not surprised at all,” Luna said. “You were all amazing.”

  “We did have the best choreographer in the school,” Ashley said smugly, and Luna grinned beside them.

  Rainbow hadn’t stopped smiling since she walked offstage. She looked dizzy with joy. “I’m just so glad I didn’t throw up.”

  “You were incredible,” Millie gushed. “Did you hear how many people were complimenting you when we got backstage?”

  “I had no idea you were a secret diva,” Zuki added.

  “You had so much attitude,” Luna agreed. “I loved every second of it.”

  Rainbow moaned and covered her face with her hands.

  Laughter flooded the small outdoor seating area. There was a pink parasol attached to the glass table, which was pointless since it was neither sunny nor raining. It was ideal—a little warm, no breeze at all, and every star visible in the velvety night sky.

  It was the perfect end to a perfect day.

  Millie could still feel her parents’ arms around her, hugging her tightly and telling her how proud they were. She hadn’t known that love could feel like that—like it went in two directions instead of just one.

  Maybe she hadn’t given her parents enough credit for trying their best, but maybe being right in one moment didn’t mean you were right all the time. Maybe parents have room to compromise, too.

  And Millie would never stop being grateful she had parents who weren’t too stubborn to admit they had changed their minds.

  “Thank you,” Zuki said suddenly. “All of you. For doing this with me.”

  “Thank you for being the best J-Club president anyone could’ve asked for,” Millie said.

  “Next year we should pick a song where everyone gets a solo,” Rainbow added. “Do you remember when Generation Love did that at a concert? It was amazing!”

  “Yes!” Luna and Ashley agreed in unison.

  Something shifted in the air, like there’d been a power cut. It was eerily silent. The kind of silent that could only precede bad news.

  Zuki’s eyes began to water. “I, um, I have something to tell you, actually.” She swallowed. “I’m not going to be in J-Club next year. I’m … not coming back to Brightside Academy at all.”

  Millie’s chest felt hollow. “What do you mean?”

  Zuki tried to smile. “I’m going to live with my grandma in New Mexico.”

  “But that’s—” Millie started, shaking her head like she couldn’t comprehend the distance. It was so far. So final.

  “I know,” Zuki said.

  Rainbow looked down at her half-eaten dessert. Ashley leaned back in their chair.

  “Is this because of your parents?” Luna asked quietly.

  “The school counselor has been talking to me a lot this year. They’ve been talking to my parents, too. And after Christmas…” Zuki blinked like she was hoping to get rid of the memory. “My grandma thinks it’s better if I live with her.”

  “Is it temporary?” Millie asked softly.

  Zuki shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  For a long time, everyone was quiet.

  It was Ashley who spoke first. “Good.” Their voice was firm. “I’m not happy you’re leaving, but I’m happy you’ll be away from your parents.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Luna said.

  Rainbow nodded in agreement, but Millie couldn’t bring herself to move. She knew this was a good thing—the right thing—but she was going to lose her best friend.

  She wasn’t prepared for that.

  “How long have you known?” Millie asked. Her stomach felt like quicksand, and all her other organs were sinking into it. She couldn’t feel anything. She could hardly breathe.

  Zuki’s shoulders sank. “I found out around the time I said I quit J-Club. I just wasn’t ready to talk about it. And then when I was, we were so close to performing. I didn’t want to make everyone sad. I didn’t want the show to feel like a goodbye.”

  Ashley might’ve been right about the move being a good thing for Zuki, but it didn’t feel good. It felt like the earth was splitting beneath Millie’s feet, and everything she loved was falling straight through it, into the darkness where she’d never see it again.

  She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Zuki.

  “We’ll still keep in touch,” Zuki said. “I mean, it took me years to find anyone who loved Generation Love as much as I do. Our friendship was fate.”

  “Fate has a weird sense of humor,” Ashley said sadly. “But I think you’re right. I mean, how else would the five of us end up together? Look at us. We’re like weird poster children for our majors.”

  Millie couldn’t help but laugh. “Am I the awkward band geek?”

  Ashley shrugged. “I’m the unsociable theater tech.”

  Luna scrunched her nose. “I guess that makes me the popular dance major. Except I am not ditsy, so don’t even suggest it.”

  Ashley held up a hand. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  Rainbow lifted her brows. “Mine doesn’t make sense. I’m shy and a theater major. They don’t really go together.”

  “Yeah, but you come to life onstage,” Luna defended. “In any audition show, that’s always everyone’s favorite.”

  Zuki frowned. “What does that make me?”

  Everyone looked at each other.

  “A melodramatic orchestra major?” Ashley offered, and everyone laughed. Even Zuki.

  “Okay, maybe yours is the one that doesn’t make sense,” Rainbow said with a shrug.

  Zuki lifted her hands. “I don’t mind being an enigma. As long as I get to be strawberry-mousse pink.”

  “Oh, we’re still doing the color thing? I thought we’d canceled that,” Ashley said dryly.

  Zuki stuck out her tongue, and Luna giggled.

  “I know what you are—you’re a leader,” Millie said, and her voice started to shake. “You brought us all together. We would never have found each other without J-Club.”

  “A few state borders won’t change that,” Zuki said.

  A tear fell down Millie’s cheek. “You promise?”

  “I promise,” Zuki said.

  And Millie wanted to believe it. Because she couldn’t imagine a world without Zuki in it.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

&nbs
p; There was a knock at Millie’s bedroom door. She looked up from her bed, the framed photo of her friends wedged between her hands. Some of the glitter had fallen off and gotten stuck to her skin, but she didn’t mind. It reminded her of being onstage. It reminded her of the lights and the magic and the crowd. It reminded her of Zuki.

  And she wanted to remember it forever.

  “You can come in,” Millie called toward the door.

  Her mom appeared. She was still wearing the dress she had worn to Pop Showcase, and she smelled of vanilla perfume. “Are you all ready for bed?”

  Millie moved the frame back to her bedside table. She tucked her legs under her quilt and watched her mom sit down beside her.

  “You were wonderful tonight,” Jane said. “I know we keep saying it, but it’s true.”

  Millie tugged at the stray threads of her blanket. “I know I hadn’t told you about J-Club before, but I’m glad you were there. It wouldn’t have felt right if you weren’t.”

  “Your dad and I,” Jane started, “we’ve been talking. And we think maybe it’s time to let you make up your own mind about what you’re passionate about.”

  Millie looked up and frowned. “What do you mean?”

  She looked serious. Gentle, but serious. “If you really hate playing the flute this much, then you don’t have to do it anymore. It’s your choice.”

  Millie’s eyes widened. “Really? You mean it?”

  Jane nodded. “I think it’s time we let you grow up. Even if that means growing out of the dreams we had for you.”

  Millie thought for a moment. “What about Brightside Academy?” She was a band major. If she quit flute, she’d have to quit the school.

  “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Jane said simply. “We’ll support you no matter what you choose.”

  But Millie wasn’t sure about the alternative. If she didn’t go to Brightside, what was going to happen?

  Her life had changed so much since the beginning of the school year. She had friends now. She didn’t want to go back to being lonely.

  “I don’t want to be homeschooled again. I know it works for a lot of people and a lot of families, but it didn’t work for me.” Millie wanted to believe that was okay.

  “I know,” Jane said. “We thought maybe you could go to the local public school, if that’s something you’d like.”

  “You wouldn’t be mad?” Millie asked.

  Jane shook her head. “No. It will be an adjustment, but we’ll be okay with it if it means you won’t feel so pressured.”

  “Can I have some time to think about it?” Millie asked. It was a big decision. All she’d wanted for the past few years was to finally be able to quit flute. To chase a different dream.

  And now that she had the option …

  She just wanted to make sure it was the right one.

  Jane kissed Millie’s forehead. “Of course. Let us know what you decide. But for now, get some rest.”

  Millie curled up beneath the blanket and watched her mom pause near the door to flick the light switch. She blew a kiss, pulled the door shut, and left Millie in the darkness.

  Millie listened to the sounds of faraway footsteps and cars passing in the street. She could see the light from a neighbor’s house. And she could still smell her mother’s perfume, like she’d left a ghost behind to help Millie sleep.

  But she couldn’t sleep. She was wide awake, with too many thoughts tumbling through her mind like a parade of acrobats in a mystical circus.

  But even while she lay awake in bed, she dreamed.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Returning to school after J-Club’s big performance was surreal. It felt like the world had shifted a little bit. Like someone had put a different lens on a camera, and everything was a different shade than it was before.

  Millie sat in the courtyard with all four of her friends, eating lunch and laughing about how they were still finding glitter all over their rooms.

  “This is why glitter should be banned,” Ashley grumbled. “Permanently.”

  “No way.” Luna pouted jokingly. “The world is so much prettier when it’s sparkling.”

  “You don’t need glitter to look pretty,” Ashley said, and then stiffened like they hadn’t quite meant to say that out loud.

  Luna’s eyes widened, and then a smile stretched across her entire face. The others burst into waves of giggles.

  A few students walked past their table, eyes lingering on the group. One of them raised their hand in a wave, smiling, before carrying on past the quad.

  Zuki blinked. “Did … did someone just acknowledge us?”

  “I didn’t think anyone else in this school even knew who we were.” Millie looked around at the rest of the outdoor tables, all full of students. She spotted a girl with strawberry-blond hair she recognized from her Math class. When she met Millie’s gaze, she smiled.

  So Millie smiled back.

  “I preferred being invisible,” Ashley muttered under their breath. Judging by their flushed cheeks, they hadn’t entirely recovered from earlier.

  “I’m still trying to decide how I feel about it,” Rainbow admitted. She lifted a brow, voice lowered. “Everyone keeps telling me they liked our performance, and I keep waiting for the comments about me puking onstage or eating weird food. But they never come.”

  “That’s because nobody cares about what happened in first grade,” Luna said earnestly. “Ruby and Annabelle are just immature and mean because deep down they hate themselves. Speaking of…” Her eyes trailed across the courtyard, where her former dance-major friends were just leaving the cafeteria.

  They hesitated as they approached Millie’s table, eyes clearly falling toward Rainbow, and then—they kept walking without saying a single word.

  “Okay,” Rainbow said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “I definitely prefer this alternate reality.”

  They all laughed until their cheeks hurt. And every time Millie’s mind drifted toward the thought of Zuki moving, she pushed it away. Their goodbye would come eventually, but for now?

  She wanted to enjoy the little time they had left, making the happiest memories they possibly could.

  * * *

  Millie sat down next to her parents on the couch. They were halfway through a movie about a woman who was trying to find her lost son. It wasn’t anything Millie was interested in, but she had to admit the soundtrack was incredible.

  Jane passed the popcorn (covered in M&M’s, of course) and whispered under her breath, “That was a pretty song you were playing upstairs. When did you learn that?”

  Scott growled a warning. “Hey—you know the rules. No bugging Millie about flute.”

  Jane pouted innocently. “I’m sorry.”

  Millie relaxed into a grin. “It’s okay. I don’t mind you asking sometimes.” Her eyes watched the screen, even though her thoughts were everywhere else. It was weird to want to play the flute. And it was even more weird to not feel any pressure from her parents about it. “It’s a song Chiyo was playing on the violin. She’s a singer from Generation Love.”

  “I know who Chiyo is,” Jane said. “I have been paying attention, you know.”

  Scott frowned. “Is that the one with purple hair?”

  “Pink,” Millie and Jane said in unison, in the same tone of mock irritation.

  Scott made a face and snatched the popcorn bowl. “Fine. If you want to be like that, you can all go make your own snacks.”

  Millie and her mom looked at each other.

  “Want an Oreo milkshake?” Jane asked.

  Millie grinned. “Yes, please.”

  The two of them jumped up from the couch and headed into the kitchen, just as Scott threw up a hand and said, “So I guess I’ll just find out if she reunites with her son all on my own?”

  Millie grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer while Jane plugged the blender in, and a few minutes later they were sitting at the kitchen table with their milkshakes. Millie used her sp
oon to fish out the big chunks of Oreo, just the way she liked it. When she looked up, her mom was watching her with a sad smile on her face.

  “What?” Millie asked, wiping her face self-consciously.

  Jane shook her head. “Just thinking about how fast you’re growing up, that’s all.” She tapped a fingernail against her glass. “I know you think I didn’t notice, but I always notice. Maybe … maybe that’s why your dad and I pushed a little too hard. We know we won’t have this time with you forever.” Her eyes glistened. “We wanted to make sure we didn’t waste it.”

  Millie shifted in her seat, thinking. “I know friends and J-Pop won’t get me into college, but they make me happy. I—I don’t feel like that’s a waste. And I don’t want you to feel like that either.”

  Jane let out a slow breath and smiled. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

  Millie smiled back. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “So”—Jane placed her hand flat against the table—“do you want to talk about your friend moving away? How are you feeling?”

  Millie’s throat tightened, and she leaned back against her chair. “I feel terrible. I feel like I only just found her and now she’s being taken away from me. I feel like it’s not fair. But also, I feel guilty—because I know moving is what’s best for Zuki.”

  “You’ll still be friends, no matter where she is in the world,” Jane said. “But I’m sorry you’re sad. I know how much you care about her.”

  Millie stared at her milkshake. “Maybe she could come over one of these weekends? Before school ends?”

  “I think that’s a great idea. You should make the most of the time you have left.” Jane lifted an eyebrow. “As long as those grades stay up, right?”

  Millie grinned. “Yeah. My grades are good.”

  Jane took a sip of her own milkshake.

  “Um, Mom?”

  “What is it?”

  “Since we’re being honest and stuff, I also want to tell you that I don’t like chicken legs. They’re greasy, and the bone kind of grosses me out.”