What if humans were beverages? Not like they themselves were drinkable, but if they embodied their favorite drink.

People who loved coke had dark brown hair and eyes. People who loved sprite had pale blonde hair and green eyes.

The possibilities for a favorite drink are endless. Any juice, any soda, seltzer, milk. Now that you know the magical rules of this strange world, let me introduce myself.

My name is Jenna. I’ve had the same favorite beverage for years, so the way I look has hardly changed. Of course, I’ve gotten many haircuts, and I don’t look too similar to how I looked at thirteen, anyway. I’ve gotten taller and my face doesn’t look quite so young, and though I’m still a teenager, I don’t really know if I feel like it.

I have brown eyes and reddish-brown hair that fades to a pale cream color. My favorite drink is something I’ve loved for a while, and though I’ve almost changed my favorite beverage a few times (lemonade and sprite are so good!), I’ve stuck with my favorite beverage for four years.

I’m sure you’re wondering what it is, and it’s only the best type of cola ever. Cherry vanilla coke. I guess how long I’ve stayed with it should be considered an achievement, and I’m happy with the way I am, but sometimes I wonder if I’m boring or if I want some change. But cherry vanilla coke it is and maybe it always will be…

I should probably stop talking about my favorite drink and get ready to hang out with my friend. Her name is Lucy and she’s an iced tea type of person at the moment, or at least she was last time I saw her. Dark orange-brown hair and eyes. Lucy is rather impulsive, and her favorite drink and her looks seem to change weekly. She may be indecisive, but I think it’s nice that she can find happiness in something as simple as a drink, and that she isn’t afraid to find and like more and more of them.

She told me to “look nice,” whatever that means, but she refused to tell me why. I guess my normal attire for hanging out with Lucy, meaning sweatpants and any old t-shirt, was out of the question. I find a comfortable but nice orange sweater and some black jeans, pairing them with my burgundy ankle boots. It’s not the fanciest outfit, but it’s pretty comfortable.

I showed up at Lucy’s house half an hour later, and she’s waiting in the yard, sat in a lawn chair that looked almost out of place in the unruly grass.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, walking over to me and hugging me.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Thanks,” I replied. Her hair was now bright pink, probably because of one of her favorite drinks, the Shirley Temple.
I was turning eighteen today and it was overwhelming. I was going to college next year. There are going to be people I’ve known my whole life in this small town that I’ll never see or talk to again.

Lucy interrupts my thoughts by grabbing me by the arm and dragging me towards her front door. She rings her own doorbell twice, which strikes me as odd, then pushes it open a few seconds later, which strikes me as even more odd. We walk inside her entrance hall and I take off my shoes. I put my shoes away neatly in her closet then follow her into her living room, where all the lights are off.

“Why don't you flip the switch?” Lu asks me, and so I do. As soon as the lights are on, there are a bunch of our friends jumping out and screaming “surprise!” I jump at the loud noise but then I turn to look at Lucy, who has a grin plastered on her face.

“You planned this?” I ask her, and she nods, still smiling.
The rest of the party was fun, with a lot of talking and catching up with people. After a while, Lu led some of us to the kitchen. She had laid out a bunch of snacks and there was a cake! I couldn’t believe Lu went all out for my birthday, and now I understand why my parents had changed my party with family to tomorrow. They were in on it too!

Lucy and I carried the cake into the dining room while a few that had came with us called the others in. There weren’t that many of us. I got the first slice, which I enjoyed a lot. It was my favorite type of cake, rich chocolate with raspberry filling. When we had all eaten at least two slices (most of my friends shared my sweet tooth), Lu disappeared to the kitchen and came back with two large, long-necked green bottles. They weren’t alcohol, right? Lu knew I didn’t like it at all, and besides, no one here was twenty one. The latter didn’t bother me that much, but I didn’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable. She set them on the table and ran to get a bunch of champagne glasses.

Oh no.

She poured the golden drink into each glass, and it bubbled and fizzed. As my glass got passed to me, I tried to object. “Lu I don’t really–” She interrupted me. “Just try it, it’s not what you think.”

Trust Lu to try and trick me. I took a sip and –wow– it was good! It was sparkling cider, something I’d never actually had before but could remember Lu raving about.

It was, if I’m being honest, better than any cherry vanilla coke I’d ever had. And as I thought that sentence, people began to look at me. Lu was smiling, “It’s that good?” I gulped down the rest of the glass and went to the bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror, though I could already guess what had happened.

My hair was now golden but my eyes were still brown, which was kind of comforting. I can’t believe I haven’t changed my favorite drink in so long, but I liked the change. It felt nice.