The kitchen smelled like burning leaves as I approached. This was our only energy source in the vast desert I lived in. The heat of the sun warmed our apartment. I stared up at the wall where my parents' wedding photo hung. My parents always said they would be proud no matter what. However, if I didn’t pass the Test, I would be kicked out of school. What parent is proud of that?

I walked to school most days. They had a floating subway, but the fresh air helped me clear my mind.  I walked alone, across the metallic path. As took the last steps toward the school, my heavy footsteps woke the dancing butterflies inside my stomach. Today, we got our grades back.

Then, I saw Aemilia. She sat cross legged on the concrete steps. She was my first friend in sixth grade. However, last year she failed the Test, and my parents told me she wasn’t a good role model to be around.

I stared down. My shoes slid across the road forming dust clouds in my trail. I ran my hand along the banister. Slowly, letting every inch of wood feel my fingertips. My heart was beating from my chest. Wanting to fly, but contained inside my tiny body. Then, I saw Aemilia again. Key in hand, closing the grading machine. We had always talked about getting the other out of school, but it couldn’t be real now. She saw me and gave a small smile, then turned and ran across the road. My feet hit the floor in a rhythm as I ran toward her. I smiled.

Midstep I heard the sound of the golden subway, and I snapped my head around, begging it not to be my mom, though deep down I knew it was. Should I leave with Aemilia or tell my mom? But then I realized. It didn’t matter to me what I got on the Test. It only mattered to my parents. As I ran toward Aemilia, I heard the voice of my mother, calling my name. I kept running.