The War to Save the Worlds – Samira Ahmed
Wishes are for little kids and old-timey cartoon princesses and people who think a star in the night sky is actually a twinkly, enchanted jewel and not just a hot, glowing ball of gas. I wasn’t always like this. I used to make wishes when I blew out my birthday candles. And, maaaaybe, I still throw pennies into fountains (but I swear it’s only for very special occasions). And if I ever see an actual shooting star and not a bright speck of light that turns out to be an airplane in Chicago’s night sky, I might make a wish on it, because— hello!—seeing a shooting star in a city full of light pollution would basically be a miracle. But otherwise, I’m declaring that in this, my twelfth year of being alive, I am giving up on hoping and dreaming too hard for impossible things. Officially, precisely, this new life plan began yesterday afternoon at three PM, when I failed my karate test. Again.