Melissa had one glass eye and I wanted to see her eye socket. I wanted to look into the hole and face a living skeleton. Each time I talked to her I found myself staring at her eye that never moved and I’d wondering what it felt like to hold it, to wear it. But mostly I wanted to see its empty socket.

The problem was that we weren’t really friends. She didn’t seem to have many friends, at least she was never hanging out with anyone. She walked from class to class alone, ate alone in the cafeteria and wasn’t involved in sports – until recently. One day, outside the gym, I saw her name on the Track & Field sign up sheet. I looked around, smiled at my opportunity, justified to myself that running would get me in shape for gymnastics next season and wrote my name below hers. I found myself hoping that maybe she’d trip and her eye would fall out and I’d get to see the empty socket.