Meghan closed her eyes and silently made the same wish she had been making for the last seven years before she blew out the candles on her cake.

James clapped his hands and screamed, "Let's eat!"

Her mother rolled her eyes, walking over to her with the cake knife in hand.  "Happy birthday, sweetheart," she said as she leaned down to kiss Meghan's head and hand her the knife.  "Now, you should cut this cake quickly before your brother explodes."

Meghan laughed, cutting and serving pieces of cake.  "Here you go, James."

He took the piece and cackled before running out of the room.  Their parents shared a look; he was the typical six year old, always making trouble.

"James, you have to eat at the table!" her father shouted before following him out of the room.

Her mother took her piece and sat down.  "I can't believe my baby is fourteen!"  Her eyes looked a little teary, and Meghan smiled indulgently.  "It seems like just yesterday you were running around in diapers and talking to your imaginary friend.  What was her name again?"

Meghan shrugged.  She had never had an imaginary friend.

"Derek," her mother yelled.  "What was Meghan's imaginary friend's name?"

"It doesn't matter, Mom," Meghan sighed.

"Well, now I am curious," her mother replied.

"Wasn't it Amber?  Or something that started with an A?  Allison?" her father shouted.

"Oh, that's right," her mother said.  "It was Amy!"

Meghan sighed again.  She was pretty sure Amy had not been imaginary.  She had stopped being able to talk to her when she was about five and had started school.  Then again, she might have been imaginary- what does a five year old know?  From what she did remember, Amy existed somewhere and they could communicate with thoughts.  Imaginary friends were more present and kids would play with them, right?  She and Amy would tell stories.  Maybe it was the same thing.  It didn't really matter, and it didn't need to come up over her birthday cake.

She took another bite.  "So," she tried to change the subject.  "Are you excited you'll be rid of me in a couple weeks when I go to Shinefeld?"

"Of course not, sweetie," her mother replied.  "I like having you around."

"Well," her father said as he came into the room, carrying James upside down, "I'd be happier if it was this troublemaker we were shipping off."

"You've been looking forward to this for months," her mother reminded her.

"I know," Meghan sighed.  "I'm just a bit nervous."

"Why?" her mother asked.

"What if no one likes me?" she asked quietly.

"Okay, you can put me down now," James said, but everyone ignored him.

"Don't be silly," her mother said with a smile.  "Everyone will love you."

"I made some of my best friends there," her father added wistfully.

"And you met me there," her mother smiled at him.  "Most importantly."

"Of course," her father laughed.

"Put. Me. Down!" James yelled, his face turning red.

"Will you stay out of your sister's room if I do?" her father asked.

"He was in my room?!" Meghan exclaimed.  "What was he doing in there?"

Her father shrugged, and James cackled, still hanging upside down.  His face was turning a very bright shade of red, so the cackle didn't seem too menacing.

"Alright," James agreed reluctantly.  "I will stay out of Meghan's room."

Their father put him down.  "For now," James added evilly.

He ran out of the room again.  "Remember when you wanted a little brother or sister?" her father asked.

"No," Meghan lied.  "I was never that crazy!"  She finished her cake before excusing herself from the kitchen and heading up to her room.

She sat down at her desk and picked up the brochure for Shinefeld she had looked through so many times before.  It showed a number of creases from her careful study.  She knew her parents had gone there and they had both loved it, but she wasn't sure.  She liked living at home and seeing her parents every day.  She liked the other kids at her current school.

What if everyone else there had been going to boarding school for years?  What if they all already knew each other and she was the strange newcomer?  Her parents said that a lot of people started Shinefeld without going to the feeder boarding schools first.

Meghan sighed, picking up the chapter book she had been reading before sprawling on her bed.  She grabbed the pillow to adjust it and felt something squish between her fingers.  Pulling her hand back, she noticed it was covered in chocolate cake.  Perfect.

"Mom!" she yelled.  "James put cake under my pillow!"  That little brat.

"I'm coming!" her mother shouted back.

"James!" she heard her father exclaim.  Maybe going away to Shinefeld wouldn't be so bad after all.

Amy sat on the floor at her brother Tony's feet. Her parents sat on the couch across the room. They each had a plate with pie on it, but the room was silent except for the occasional scrape of fork on plate. They had moved into the living room for dessert and to celebrate Amy's birthday, but the conversation had died half an hour ago.

"Well," her father said gruffly, breaking the silence, "have you started packing yet?"

"Not really. I've only done a few things so far," Amy answered.

Her father grunted an incoherent reply, glanced sideways at his wife, and resumed dissecting his pie. They sat in silence for a few more minutes until the pie was gone.

Standing up with his empty plate, her brother looked down and said, "Come on, Amy, let's go to your room and I'll help you get a few more things done."

Amy gave him a grateful look and quickly followed him through the kitchen, where they deposited their plates, then off to her bedroom. Tony shut the door behind them and they both sat on Amy's bed.

"I know you're nervous about going off to Shinefeld, but it'll be better this way. I'm leaving for college, so you'd be here by yourself a lot, you know Mom and Dad work all the time. The only reason they didn't send you off to school earlier is because I was here. You'll like going away to school much more than staying here," Tony told her.

"Well, alright," Amy said, smiling up at him, "you're usually right. I'm just worried no one's going to like me."

"Hey now, of course they'll like you! I mean, you were raised by me, how could they not like you?" Tony poked her in the arm.

Amy laughed, "Okay, okay, I'll be the star of the school, thanks to you."

"That's the spirit! It's your fourteenth birthday, don't be sad today. Let's start packing for you."

A week later Amy was sleeping in the middle of her half-packed room, caught up in a dream. She was running down a hallway, looking for someone. She could hear footsteps somewhere behind her. Then ahead she heard someone yell, 'Amy!' and ran faster. That was who she was looking for. She rounded a corner and crashed headlong into someone, jerking her out of her dream.

She gasped and sat up, sweaty and breathless. What was going on? What a strange dream, she thought. The voice had sounded oddly familiar, too. Who was it? It almost seemed as if she knew the voice from another dream, but that sounded crazy. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. This packing stuff was starting to get to her, she thought. Was she really that nervous about going to a new school? She half-smiled to herself and nodded. Probably. Surely the new school wouldn't be that bad, that people would be chasing her. She shook her head one more time to clear it, then rolled over and went back to sleep.