It was a year after I had woken up from my coma. I had landed a job as a waitress at the diner down the street. I couldn’t afford college tuition, so I was saving every penny I got in tips and the little salary I was paid. I had gotten my most recent pay check yesterday and decided I deserved a little fun in my life. I hadn’t been shopping in months, and it would feel good to switch things up a little with some new clothes. I caught the last bus of the night and took it to the local mall. Over the past few months, I hadn’t really done much. The first few weeks it took all my strenght just to stop myself from going suicidal. Whenever I’d look around my musty, old, empty little apartment, memories of Trent and our past together would cloud my mind from any other thoughts. I wouldn’t go out much either, only every other week when I went to work at the diner. I’d mostly stay in my room and watched the crappy shows I got with no cable. I shuffled my feet along the shiny yet scuffed up floor, letting my mind take in all that surrounded me. It took some practice to not let the snobby rich people who shoved past me like I was invisible, bother me. While walking through the crowded mall, I happened to catch a glance at a calendar. The date didn’t register in my mind until a few seconds after. “Today’s my birthday,” I whispered the sound getting lost in the buzz of the other shoppers around me. Today, I turned 22. What did this mean? Nothing. It was just another day, nothing special. When I was living in the orphanage, from age 16 to 18, my birthdays were always exciting. It was the only day out of the whole year when I felt important, like I mattered. To keep myself from dwindling on the past, I sped up my pace until I reached the little ice cream shop in the corner on the 1st floor. I bought a chocolate ice cream and then proceeded to pull out my cell phone. This number had become so familiar, dialing it almost felt automatic. “Chelsea, its Sam. Guess what?” I spoke into the phone. Chelsea also worked at the diner and she helped me a lot through my rough days. Every time I tried to repay her for her kindness, she’d always flash me her fabulous smile that warmed my heart and say. ‘don’t worry about it, hun. One day when I’m stuck, I know you’ll be there for me without a second thought. That’s repay enough.’ She was the only friend I had and I loved her more than I was able to show. “What’s that?” she answered, her cheerful voice filling my ear. She always sounded hopeful, even in tough times. Her positive attitude was something I admired. “Today's my birthday, how amazing is that? I had no idea until I glanced over at a calendar in the mall.” “Happy birthday, Sam! Where are you? I’m coming over there right now and we’re gonna celebrate!” “Oh, you really don’t have-,” “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Meet you at Dylan’s on the second floor. Later Alligator!” “Bye,” I whispered into the phone, but she had already hung up. After finishing my ice cream, I headed upstairs to meet Chelsea. She wasn’t there yet, so I started looking around the store for anything I liked and was reasonably priced. About 5 minutes later, I found a sweater that I absolutely loved. I was hypnotized by the shiny buttons and exotic pattern of the fabric. “You want? I’ll buy it,” Chelsea said as she snuck in silently behind me. “Chels, really?” “Happy birthday, Sam,” she said, cutting me off, embracing me in a gigantic bear hug. “Now, let’s go pay for this and then grab some dinner,” We sat, looking through the menu in Café Yum Yum, a restaurant I’d never been to before. From what I’d heard, it wasn’t the cheapest place around. While my eyes slowly grazed the list of drinks, a thought came across my mind. “How can you afford taking me here, Chels? I thought you were broke?” “We’ll it's your special day so I’m willing to make sacrifices. And…. My great aunt just died and I got a large chunk of her money,” she answered, shooting me a smug smile. “How much money are we talking about? Enough so you can quit working at the diner?” “About $7000.00. I’m thinking I can quit. How bout you? She chuckled as she peered at me from over her menu. I was speechless. “Wow, Chelsea. I’m really happy for you,” I finally answered. My upbeat tone was hiding the conflict I was dreading to think about. “Um, so are you gonna quit? I asked nervously. If Chelsea left, I’d probably consider quitting myself, but I desperately needed the money. An even worse thought crossed my mind. What if Chelsea decided she was better than a poor, scraggly little waste of space like myself? If she quit, she might make new, richer friends who complimented her shiny new outfits better than I did. The thought of losing her made my head spin. I waited for an answer from her. “I don’t know yet. I’m still thinking that through. But you know that even if I do quit, you’ll still be my best friend, forever and always,” she finally answered as she casually flipped her bouncy, brunette curls out of her face and shot me that fantastic smile, letting me know she really did care. Chelsea was a very pretty girl. She was tall, with porcelain colored skin and just the right number of freckles on her rosy cheeks. Her teeth were white as pearls and sparkled in the sunlight. Her father had been a dentist, until he went bankrupt and was forced to sell his dentistry practice about 5 years ago. Chelsea had had a hard time adjusting from upper middle class to just enough money to get by. Her father is now unemployed and she is doing everything she can to make sure her parents and 2 younger sisters, one age 14 and the other age 12, can have enough money to live comfortably. I guess now that their great aunt had died, their financial situation was at least a little better. After our delicious, yet highly expensive meal, consisting of steak and lobster with potatoes and a nice salad, we headed back into the mall, stuffed, and ready to continue our shopping. The idea of spending that much money on one meal mortified me but I didn’t let it show. It had been so long since i’d had a decent meal. I could barley even afford a meal at the diner with my employee discount. “Hey Sam, I um, have a little something for you…” Chelsea said under her breath; facing the opposite direction from me while we were sitting on a long white bench in the middle of the mall, taking a little break to rest. I could tell she was somewhat embarrassed by whatever she had for me. I pretended not to notice how quietly she was speaking and replied: “You really didn’t have to get me anything. You already bought me that sweater,” “No, this is different, I’m sure you’ll love it!” she replied as she held out a piece of paper, folded about eight times, so it was tiny and square. I starred at it for a few seconds and then slowly unwrapped each layer until the whole thing was unwrapped. The page was filled with writing in different sized fonts. I read the first line over and over in my head at least 10 times before reading on. It read: Are you thinking about adopting? The number of orphaned children in the United States has increased drastically in the past few years. We need your generosity and love to start these young children on the right path to adulthood and make sure their lives are filled with happy moments. Please open your hearts and your homes and think about adopting a baby, toddler, pre teen, or teenager from any of the 50 states. For more information, please visit us on the web at www.adoptionfirst or give us a call at 1-800-555-3478. Your selflessness is greatly appreciated. I just couldn’t get over the first line. All I’d wanted for the first couple of months after my baby died was to adopt. I knew I didn’t have the money so that hope sort of fell away. If there was any way I could adopt a baby, I would without a second thought. I would give anything to hold one in my arms and know I’m making a difference in that child’s life. I know how being an orphan feels. Thinking no one will ever adopt you, no one wants you in their home. Changing that one child’s life would mean more to me now at this moment in my life than anything else I could think of. A few tears slowly trickled down my hot cheeks. I swiped them away as I looked up at Chelsea and said: “Is this some kind of joke? Chelsea you know I can’t afford to adopt a child,” “No, you don’t understand, Sam. Your present is… well, if you decided to adopt, I will totally cover all of the fees. I know how much you want this and you’ll make a great mother to someone who needs one the most. Happy birthday,” she replied and at that moment, I knew things were gonna be okay.

It was Monday morning. I sat in one of the newly cleaned booths in the back of the diner, waiting for the breakfast rush to start trickling in. I was exhausted. Chelsea and I had been up all night, filling out adoption papers. It was okay for Chelsea because she didn’t have work today, but maybe staying up that late, doing such tedious work wasn’t the smartest choice for me.
“Sam, I hear you’re thinking of adopting,” a middle aged women wearing the black and white plaid shirt and stretchy black pants that was the diner’s uniform. Her cheeks were plump and rosy and her beach-blond hair was short and curly. She always seemed cheerful and happy, somewhat of a Mrs. Claus type character. She reminded me of Chelsea. I couldn’t even fathom having such a positive attitude every day, those two made it look so easy. I studied the women’s tone for awhile, trying to detect any signs of disgust or negativity towards my adopting. She seemed pretty genuine but I wasn’t quite sure so I simply nodded my head twice and looked down at the carpet. I hadn’t really noticed the carpet before but now that I did, I realized it was hideous, ugly patterns swirling into one another. Very tacky. I heard footsteps approaching me. I slowly lifted my head, sifting my fingers through my hair, from front to back, in one swift motion. In front of me stood a tall man with a well -built body. Standing next to him was a skinny teenage girl, who looked about 16, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a fitted, black v-neck with pick and red letters that read: Blood and Tears. I was guessing that that was the name of a band, probably of the rock/ heavy metal genre. The girl was chewing about 3 pieces of gum, her jaw chomping up and down like a cow chewing its cud. Just a typical, slightly gothic, teenager, I thought to myself as the tall man step forward slightly. This was the manager of the diner, who was also my boss.
“Sam, this is Tracy,” said Mr. Oliver as he gestured to the girl standing beside him. I looked her up and down once more, taking all of her in before hearing how she was involved in my life.
“Nice to meet you,” I said to Tracy, sticking my hand out awkwardly, ready for a handshake. Tracy completely ignored my hand. Instead she took out one of the two earphones stuck inside of her ears and gave me a quick nod, her stringy black hair pulled back in a messy side ponytail. her face was very pale, almost a transparent color.
“Tracy is going to be working here as a bus girl. Sam, I want you to train her on waitressing after hours. Tracy is Ms Greenfelt’s daughter and she wants nothing more than to see her daughter waitressing at my diner,” I could see Mr. Oliver’s face blush as he said ‘Ms Greenfelt.’ He had a huge crush on her and would do anything to make her happy, Even if it meant hiring her extremely unpleasant daughter as a bus girl and turning her into a waitress. “You will enlighten her in the ways of waitressing. So, why don’t you too take this time before opening to get to know each other?” Mr. Oliver finished. Tracy’s negative vibe was not really something I wanted to be around. I wanted to attribute her melancholy attitude to her parents but considering I didn’t know them very well, I decided the only way to discover what her problem was, was to get to know her first.
“Sure thing, Mr. Oliver. C’mon Tracy, we can go in the back room and talk,” I said shyly as I motioned for her to follow me.
“Yeah, whateves,” I heard her whisper under her breathe. She reminded me a lot of myself when I was about her age, a little distraught, a little confused, and maybe even a little misunderstood.
Once inside the back room, Tracy and I sat in the wood peeling chairs. I really hated sitting back there because of the moldy smell and the feeling of gloom. The room was dimly lit and was frequently very chilly. Gathered around the small, wobbly table in the middle of the room, Tracy and I sat in silence.
“So, Tracy,” I started. “How old are you?”
“14. How old are you, 35?” she replied, her snotty tone hanging onto her words like the smell of alcohol hangs onto your breathe.
“Uh, no. actually, I just turned 22,”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Tracy said under her breathe.
“Listen, if you think that just because my boss is in love with your mom means that I will deal with your stuck up attitude and pretend like I don’t notice it, you’ve got another thing coming. The whole joyless teenager act is totally not cool anymore. So I suggest you get a serious attitude adjustment and respect me as your mentor,” a look of confusion, anger, and remorse crossed that young girls face as she looked down and pretended to change the song on her iPod. I could tell that under her hard exterior was a girl who’s heart had been hurt. I was very good at detecting emotions and hidden personalities in people. It came in handy quite often. Part of me wanted to apologize for being so hard on her and to let her know I wanted to help. But I also didn’t want to intervene in whatever drama she was going through. If she didn’t want to open up to me, I wasn’t going to force her. I decided to compromise with myself and try and dig a little deeper into Tracy’s background.
“Hey, I’m sorry for bagging on you li-,” I started to say before Tracy interrupted and said,
“Forget it. I don’t need more of that sympathy that everyone’s always trying to throw at me. Just stick to teaching me waitressing and cut the extra chit chat to a minimum, kay?” she retorted back. Well, at least I tried. If she wanted to keep to herself, it was fine by me.
“Look, the doors just opened and the morning rush should be coming in soon. Can we finish this later?”
“Fine,” she said and with that, Tracy was gone.

It was 6:00 AM on a cold, February morning, the day we had set to drive to Michigan to adopt my child. We had found a 14 year old girl who made the mistake of having a baby at that young age. My child-to-be was now four years old and waiting to for me in a local orphanage in downtown Addison, Michigan. Feelings of anxiety swept over me like a cool Autumn breeze as I sheepishly got out of my warm bed and prepared to start out the day. Stumbling into the bathroom, I glanced up at the mirror, stunned by the tired, formidable face that was my reflection. After taking a short shower, throwing on some clothes and throwing my hair up into a messy bun, I decided to go for a quick jog before Chelsea arrived at my apartment. The even tap tap tap of my sneakers against the damp road eventually calmed down my unruly thoughts and diminished the feeling of anxiety completely. A gloomy mist, indigenous to this part of Seattle, swarmed around me as I looked down at my watch and saw that it was getting closer to the time Chelsea had planned to arrive at my apartment. I turned around and quickly sprinted back to my street. Chelsea was waiting on the front steps just as I got there, suit case in hand and a smile upon her face as she saw me run up. Her unsullied face was something I admired ever so deeply.
“You ready girl?” she asked me. Only Chelsea could be so cheerful at 6:45 in the morning.
“Yup, just gotta grab my stuff, and we can head out”, I replied as I headed upstairs to grab my bag. I came back down and headed towards Chelsea’s car.

It felt like only a mere 10 minutes had elapsed when I opened my eyes and saw where we were. To my surprise, it had been a whole 9 hours since we had left and we were just now entering Michigan. A flood of nervous emotions slowly trickled from my mind down to my hands. They began to shake eccentrically as the anxiety returned, it just started to take its tole on my sanity. What if my child didn't like me? What if when she grew up she wanted to live with her real parents and ran away from me? These questions ran over and over threw my mind. Those tear drops i had become oh so familiar with at this point started forming in my eyes, everything around me getting blurry. "Sam, Sam whats wrong?" Chelsea asked me as she gracefully took her right hand off the steering wheel, replacing it with her left and gently wrapping her arm around me.
"Do you really think I'll make a good mother?" I asked, swiping the tears off my cheeks. "Like I mean, what if I'm one of those moms who doesn't care about her child and she grows up angry and confused? I don't wanna be the one responsible for that," I replied. Chelsea firmly grabbed my hand and replied with not one ounce of doubt in her voice,
“Your gonna make a grateother, Sweety. That’s not a motivational line, that’s a fact. Your gonna make such a difference in that child’s life, you know first hand what its like to grow up in the emptiness of an orphanage. Your saving that baby girl from having to go through that any longer... Saving her from years and years of vexation and depression,” she gently pushed back my hair and smiled her soft and comforting smile.
After a bunch of wrong turns and miscalculations, thanks to the outdated GPS I had gotten as a birthday present from Mr. Oliver last year- obviously previously owned- we finally made it to the Addison Children’s Home. Chelsea, with a swift twist of her wrist, pulled into a parking space, twisted the keys in the ignition and turned of the car. Then, it was silent. Silent and still. We sat there for what seemed like forever, I could feel Chelsea’s eyes softly gazing at me. Fear was the only thing holding me back from getting out of the car. As time past, I slowly started to feel the bitter cold air of February seeping into the car and chilling my fingers. I started to unbuckle my seat belt as I felt Chelsea’s warm hand around mine. I looked up at her, expecting to see her smiling at me, expecting to see her comforting face. My expectation was squashed like a bug by a child’s foot, as I looked at her face and saw tears slowly streaming down her soft cheeks.