It was the last trip with my friends and it was at Disneyland…the happiest place on Earth. Well, for me it was anxiety central. 　　We saw the yellow school buses rounding up Fountain Middle School exactly at eight o'clock a.m. with the rumbling engines sputtering uncontrollably. Of course, my class hardly noticed the noise due to the bursts of excitement. 　　I was a small Chinese girl grinning from ear to ear. It took five days to finally convince my parents that I was, clearly, NOT going to be kidnapped, beaten, or drugged while riding on the roller coaster. 　　So here I was, breathing in the "nice" polluted air of Los Angeles. I watched as my friend, Tom, do a rendition of Michael Jackson. Okay, so he didn't have any similarities with the self-claimed King of Pop. The guy had some kind of stupendous and unsuccessful nose job. 　　"Everybody! Listen up!" Mrs. Brown screeched at the top of her lungs. We all looked up after adjusting ourselves on the hard bus seats. "I'm going to call each person's name. When you hear your name, just wave your hand. That simple." 　　"Ben." 　　A kid that I didn't recognize stuck up a foot. So he was the class clown. Giggles erupted, but I just frowned. My friend, Tiff, nudged my arm and nodded her head towards Eric. 　　My face burned and I quickly looked to the floor, concentrating on my shoelaces with intent interest. 　　"Kelly!" 　　An arm shot up. She was the most popular girl in the 8th grade class: tanned, green-eyed, tall, athletic, pretty, and dangerously blonde. 　　I didn't like to be envious, but no matter what I said to myself each morning, I couldn't and never would be like that girl. I was almost the exact opposite: shy, nerdy, short, and had limp black hair. 　　Finally after almost 30 minutes of roll call, Mrs. Brown called my name. "Katharine Wang." I was grateful that my last name didn't start with a Z like some other Asians or I would have had to wait forty minutes before they called me. 　　I waved my hand and received a curt nod. The bus rules were dutifully given out. 　　"In the case of an emergency, please do NOT use your partner as a floatation device," the plump African American (a politically correct expression for a black person) bus driver shouted. 　　And the bus started. Sitting in the back of the bus, I felt all the bumps. How I ever made it to Disneyland was still a great mystery to me. 　　"So Kat, are you going to tell him?" Tiff always liked torturing me about…my "secret crush". She smiled evilly, peering over at Eric every so often. "Come on, this is like, your last chance. Then it's graduation and your parents will be there. So you KNOW you don't have a chance then so I would do it now maybe in between rides or something to go up to him and say EVERYTHING." Tiff exclaimed in a hushed whisper all in one breath. 　　I hesitantly looked over, but, to my dismay, I met his eyes. Stupid, stupid me, I thought to myself, mentally head-bashing on the window. 　　Eric had thick black hair, pale skin, hazel eyes and freckles. And I was completely head-over-heels for him at that point. Reason? He made me think of some rebellious teenager wearing a leather jacket on a Harley. Well, maybe not on the motorcycle because we were all thirteen. But nevertheless, he acted like one, and wore only black. Sweet heavens, he was a mysterious type. 　　I never told this puppy love to anybody except for my friend, Tiff. My parents would off-handily disapprove because I was too young and I shouldn't be \having\ these thoughts in my head. 　　I was thirteen years old! You can't expect a thirteen-year-old to relinquish all ideas of love, can you? 　　So this little longing lasted for two years...no, three years counting sixth grade. This was the last chance I could have said anything to him. 　　Turned out, I never said anything, absolutely anything. I had fun all right: Racing around the amusement park to jump on different roller coasters, eating a funnel cake, buying taffies and wands, drinking sodas, eating pizza, and hanging out without parent restrictions. <01-01-04> 　　At one point I wanted to scream out my happiness and freedom. 　　The only thing that kept me back from spilling out everything to Eric was my consciousness: what's the point if you say anything now? It bickered at me like a nagging mother. But even if I had the chance, Eric would be too involved with my friend Laura to notice me. So I kept my tongue to myself and tried throwing away the feeling of disappointment and sadness in my gut. 　　Author's note: you can't change what you see in the mirror. I wake up every morning, brush my teeth, and then stare at my reflection. Yes, I can dye my hair blonde, buy contacts to change my eye color, wear five-inch high heels, and talk in a Valley accent. However, at the end of the day, I'm still going to be old Katharine if I like it or not; an Asian with a quirky personality, quiet, pleasing and pleasant. 　　I'll tell you the truth; it's easier to be somebody you want to be. But can you righteously say that ten years from now you'll still be that idealistic person? 　　On graduation day for the class of 1999, I received my "diploma" and realized this was just the beginning of another phase of my life. High school loomed ahead and there were possibilities even greater. Wow, even greater than middle school! 　　As I said my goodbyes to my friends, I looked at my school for one last time. This was it. One part of life had shut its doors and I was hitching my duffle bag to travel another mile…another long, looonnnggg….mile. I scrunched my nose at the thought, but was interrupted by my friend who said the words I would never forget: 　　"Today and tomorrow, huh Kat?" 　　Yes, we can stop today and rest our heads, but we'll wake up tomorrow under the same Sun.