The hot, sticky Rhode Island summer weather was a perfect contrast to the chilly car; the air was blowing out of all vents in the front directly into my parents’ faces while my sister and I were in the back being blocked from the brunt of the eye-drying wind. We were on our way to a friend’s house. It was supposed to be a great night; the parents would be occupied and my friend and I could hang around upstairs. We could do whatever we wanted.

      I was giddy with excitement.

      I can’t remember exactly how, or why, but I do remember the topic of selling us came up- jokingly, of course.

      “Nora- Nora’s funny, she’d be a good entertainment person for the buyers. Gwen,” the person saying this pondered for a moment. It’s funny. I only remember the words that came out of the mouth, not the person speaking them. “Gwen- Gwen we couldn’t sell you,” A moment of nothing but smugness. “You don’t do anything.”

      Any amount of pride that had puffed up in my chest, any cheap thrill I would’ve gotten from taunting my sister faded away.

      I knew it was a joke. Of course it was a joke. My parents would never say something like that to my face if they meant it. They want me to blossom into a someone. I want to become a someone. Not a no one. Never a no one.

      But what do I do that makes me something?

      Nothing. I am perfectly average. I play the piano, but I am not all that great. I get good grades; but, then again, that doesn’t set me far apart from the majority.

      When it comes time to be looked over, picked from billions of children around the world, what will be my saving grace?

      What’s the point of being good at nearly everything you do, but never achieving greatness? What’s the point of having all these aspirations and ambitions when you have nothing to back you up, nothing to prove that you’ll be able to shine in that sector?

      I didn’t know. I still don’t know, and I hate it.

      I hate that I don’t know the one thing I really want to know.

      But, instead of saying this, I smiled at them, laughed and told them that I do the dishes.

      “Yeah,” Mom said, “Not often. You don’t dry them either.”