Dara opened her eyes. That was how simple she was – no thoughts, just actions. She woke up and opened her eyes, no equivalent meaning but just doing the process of it. She moved the blanket off of her body and went down the bed.  She arranged it to its orderly perfection. She then gathered her essentials and headed to the only bathroom in their house.

            Inside, she faced the mirror and looked at herself carefully. She has big brown eyes with a few green specs scattered around. Her lashes were long and thick, almost cascading her cheeks when she closed them. She has a button-nose and puffy lips. Her face was small, heart-shaped and framed  by her long charcoal black hair. And as she gazed at herself, one notion crossed her mind: that she was probably the most ordinary girl in the world. With that thought, she shredded off her clothings and went inside the shower.

            In her room, she put on fresh clothes – plain white shirt coupled with plain blue jeans and plain black sneakers. She finger-comb her hair thrice before grabbing her plain black knapsack. Walking towards the door, she saw her reflection in the full-length mirror and stopped. Her eyes swept herself from  top to bottom. She slowly shook her head and sighed. This would have to do. As soon as her room’s door was closed, she went down the staircase.

            Walking out her room into the hallways and the other parts of their house always gave Dara a whiplash. Her room was very plain. No bright colors and prints. Just simple, dull and lackluster. Boring, her sister would say. And it was the complete opposite of the whole house. The colors in the exterior and interior were bursting with energy and flamboyance. Among the other family members, she was the only sore thumb sticking out. She was so different that sometimes other people would say that maybe she was just adopted.

            But that was Dara and no matter how much they poured effort to change her, she was still her ordinary self. Sometimes even her face is bared of emotions. It’s just the way she is and, thinking about it, maybe it’s going to stay that way forever.

            Dara entered the kitchen and immediately, her senses were bombarded with colors, aromas and sounds.

            “Good morning, sweetie! What would you want for breakfast?” Mrs. Park asked, waving a spatula before the stove. She had her apron on, her face smattered with paint. “We have waffles, pancakes, baco-”

            “I’ll just have this.” Dara answered, holding up a bright red apple.

            Mrs. Park clucked her tongue. “Honey, that’s not breakfast. You need more than that to be up and moving all day.”

            Just as Dara was going to respond, Sanghyun, her older brother by two years, dashed in front of the table, putting stacks and stacks of food on his plate. “Why do you bother, mom? She eats the same thing everyday.”

            “I don’t understand how she does it.” Her little sister Durami said, doing the same thing as her brother. “I mean food is awfully delicious and I couldn’t be bothered while eating. Like, there’s pizza and lasagna and burgers and she chooses an apple over bacon. Over bacon!”

            Mr. Park followed, walking inside carrying his suitcase and a newspaper. “Okay, sweetpea, lay it off a little. Dara can have whatever she wants to have.” He rounded up, kissed his children’s heads and gave a sound one on his wife’s lips. “Let’s go, Dara. I’m gonna give you a ride to school. Sanghyun and Durami, you can ride with mom.”

            “But dad! We’re gonna be late if we wait for mom!” Durami whined.

            “Well maybe you should have thought of that before filling your plates.” He headed to the garage, Dara tailing behind him. “See you later.”

            “Don’t forget to get the groceries!” Mrs. Park reminded.

            “Say goodbye, Dara.” Her fathered ordered.

            Dara didn’t stop walking but looked over her shoulder. “Bye.”

            “Hmm.” Both Durami and Sanghyun replied. Mrs. Park just waved her spatula.

            On the way to Anyang High School, the drive was silent. Neither the father nor Dara talked and she preferred it that way. It’s not that they were awkward with each other. They just both liked the comfortable silence.

            Mr. Park dropped Dara in  her school. “See you later, honey.”

            Dara just waved her hand and went to the direction of the main entrance. She made her way to the lockers and opened hers. She searched for the assignments and other requirements that would be due that day, also switching the books that she would need for the first classes.

            “Dara!” She looked up as she heard someone call her name and immediately saw a fluff of pink making her way to her fast. It was her best friend, Park Bom.

            Bom, stopped a mere five inches from Dara and bent  down to recover her breath. Dara couldn’t stop looking at her.

            “Bom, you’re wearing a tu-tu dress. In school.” Dara’s wide eyes blinked.

            Bom’s cheshire-cat smile was spot on. She twirled once, making sure the dress would make up a balloon effect. “Isn’t it fabulous? I designed and sewed it myself! Actually, this is more like a trial, y’know? I’m planning on doing my cocktail dress exactly like this but of course it’s going to be strapless and with more sparkle. It’s going to be totally amazing, I just know it! Boys would definitely be falling trying to catch me. What do you think?” She blabbered like there’s no tomorrow.

            Dara’s mind was reeling with all the information. “What?”

            Bom groaned. “Dara!” She whined, elongating her name. She put her hands on Dara’s shoulders and stared at her hopefully. “The dress. The design. What do you think?”

            “It’s nice but you already have a lot of dresses. You don’t need one more.”

            Bom facepalmed. “No, Dara. This is for the special event next month.”

            “What special event?” Dara was getting confused.

            “Are you serious? Were you not here all this time?”

            Dara narrowed her eyes. “Of course. You know I never go absent.”

            Bom sighed and gave up. She decided that explaining everything would be the easiest way for her best friend. She knew that Dara was darn smart but unfortunately very naive in things not related to academics. Like for example a high school dance. “The Anyang annual High School ball, Dara. The one that we’re gonna have next month. The one where boys ask girls out and they wear formal clothes and dance the night away. The ball that I’m planning to make with the design of the tu-tu dress I’m wearing now.” Bom exhaled. “Does that ring a bell?”

            “Oh, that.” Dara answered.

            “Yes, that.” Bom mimicked. “So. . .?”

            “That dress looks nice.” Dara said, making her way to her homeroom class.

            “Oh, Dara. I know you can’t put a little excitement to that even if your life depended on it but is that all you really have to say?”

            “Um. . .” Dara trailed.

            Bom sighed. “Nevermind. I’ll catch you later at lunch, ‘kay? Don’t. Forget.” She narrowed her then cleared her face. She turned the other way and happily skipped, not letting Dara’s disability to be intrigued.

            Dara sighed dejectedly for failing yet again to keep up with her best and only friend. She tries really hard. It was a miracle that a girl like Park Bom would actually want or bother to befriend someone like her. But honestly, anything that relates to socializing would immediately make her dash to the opposite direction.

            With a last look at her f