Butterflies Before the Bell

Nia stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. New city. New school. New everything. Her stomach was doing Olympic-level gymnastics.

"What if nobody talks to me?" she whispered to her reflection. "What if I sit in the wrong seat or say something stupid or trip in the hallway?"

Her reflection didn't answer. Reflections never do.

Downstairs, Mom was making pancakes — the special kind with chocolate chips, which only happened on Very Important Days. "How are you feeling?" Mom asked, even though she already knew.

"Like there are a thousand butterflies in my stomach," said Nia. "Mean butterflies. With sharp wings."

Mom put a pancake on her plate. "Want to know a secret? I had butterflies on my first day at my new job last month."

"You did? But you're a grown-up!"

"Butterflies don't check your age," said Mom. "Here's what I learned: you can't make them go away. But you can make them fly in formation."

"What does that mean?"

"It means use the nervous energy. Instead of thinking about everything that could go wrong, think about one thing that could go right. Just one."

Nia chewed her pancake and thought. "Maybe I'll meet someone who likes books as much as I do."

"That's your one thing. Hold onto it."

On the bus, Nia's butterflies were still there. But she held onto her one thing. At her locker, hands slightly shaking, she taped up a small poster of her favorite book series — the one about the girl detective who solved mysteries in Mumbai.

A voice behind her said, "Oh my god, is that the Mira Mistry series? I've read all seven books!"

Nia turned around. A girl with paint-stained fingers and a huge smile was staring at the poster.

"I've read them all twice," said Nia.

"I'm Fatima."

"I'm Nia."

At lunch, they sat together and argued about which book was the best (book four, obviously — Nia was right about that). By the end of the day, Nia had a friend, a favorite teacher (Mr. Okafor, who told the best history stories), and zero butterflies.

Well, maybe a few. But they were the good kind now. The excited kind.

That evening, Mom asked, "How was your one thing?"

Nia grinned. "My one thing turned into about fifty things."

And the next morning, she didn't need chocolate chip pancakes. She was already excited to go back.