Walking into Fredrick Junior High was like déjà vu. I had remembered it and dreaded this day. I looked at Hugo, he didn’t show a flaw—ever. I could just envision what we could be--picture-perfect. But that was not a possibility. We were just friends. Best friends. Adele Mouton, my best friend, coughed, our code for “stop gazing at Hugo.”I felt my cheeks turn rouge. When Adele turned, we smiled in unison. This was my year to get Hugo.

My name is Genevieve Elizabeth Kolar, but I prefer Geni. Hugo calls me that, oh Hugo! I should resume with my introduction, not my fantasy of dating Hugo. I’m returning to my old town in Paris, Texas. Prior to this, I spent a year in France. That’s where I’d acquainted Adele. Her father was a governor in France. Adele had a secret, but not as colossal as mine.

I’ll try to tell you the specifics, but Adele and Hugo know most of the story. About four months ago I had been stabbed at my boyfriend (now my ex), Nick’s house. That tragic incident that started with me aimlessly looking in the mirror to clear up my asthma, left me in a coma for a little over a month. My recovery was supposedly a “miracle.” I’d been transformed into a mermaid. Nick was very mature with it; he’d aid me with basically any need for my agonizing recovery. Then, I’d realized something and that’s that I still needed Hugo. I’d see him out with Celine, his girlfriend, and I’d feel more damaged than what the knife that was driven through me several times could’ve ever done. Despite this, Nick and I are still close friends.

Adele told me that in my prologue, I must include a brief flashback of last year and, well my life story. I had moved to France for babysitting opportunities. My best friend, Reese’s, aunt Marie lived in Paris and the babysitting job was abandoned. My first impression of this occupation was, “This is agony! Marie’s four-year-old is a stalker!” but subsequently, I’d become aware of that lonesome kid’s secret. But her secret was all too familiar to me now, since I’m now a mermaid, ever since that stabbing had left me flat lining in that fatally freezing hospital bed. Yes, a four year old saved my life. I know it sounds pathetic, but she is my best friend. After that, people were intrigued by my tales of being a mermaid, and I’d become a notorious writer on the show, Young Authors. Young Authors is a show nearly identical to the teen-phenomenon reality show American Idol, except this show was founded for aspiring authors ages 13-17, and it was valid for any participating country: America, China, France, Canada, the UK, Mexico, Spain, Puerto Rico, India, Japan, and many other countries with intricate names. I ended up winning with my “modest smile and amazing writing skills.”