Kiri only realized what she’d gotten herself into when she got to the Portal Festival. She dreaded it as she meandered through crowds of Goldtown residents and some ephemeral tourists on West Main Street, where the festival took place every year.

Of all the places Uncle Jim had to request her to go, it had to be near the bookstore where Gabe had invited her to meet him.

The festival spanned over the two densest, albeit the only worthwhile blocks in Goldtown that weren’t single family, one-tree-per-yard HOA havens. Of all the years she’d attended, the bakery with the donuts had always been her entry point, while Riverwood Bookstore was always the exit. In between these landmarks, merchant and food tents ran along both sides of the street, with a stage at the crossroads. Garlands of fairy lights hung between the street lamps on either side of the road. They were a permanent addition to West Main, but they donned a particularly nostalgic glow during the festival.

Kiri didn’t stick around for the dazzling sights—whatever “dazzling” meant in this mediocre town. She powered her way down the street, evading people and praying that Gabe and his friends would be nowhere near Riverwood Bookstore. It was after 6:30 PM, after all. Surely, they would’ve moved on to their party.

She slowed into a cautious pace as she neared Riverwood Bookstore. In front of it was the book tent she needed to get to. She could just barely see the magazine stand between the mass of festivalgoers crowding around it. It looked like she had a pretty clear shot to it. More importantly, it looked like Gabe was nowhere around. She craned her neck to inspect, just in case.

When she was absolutely certain he was gone, she took her shot. Braced herself as she dove into the crowd buzzing around the book tent.

She found The Boroworks, thankfully, just in time for the last copy. After she paid the dollar, she considered herself safe. All she had to do now was just turn back around, get out of this crowd and—

“Woah, there you are!” a familiar voice exclaimed.

Kiri turned back toward the book tent. Gabe stood at the end of the purchasing table.

“Thought I’d lost ya,” he continued, picking up a book from the table, then looking at Kiri. Was he talking about the book, or her?

Kiri squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then stared at Gabe in disbelief. Crap, she thought. So much for her plans. She lowered her eyes as he approached her, resigned to her fate.

Gabe grinned and said, “Didn’t peg you as the late type, haha! We like, just left a moment ago. But thank god I forgot my purchase, ‘cuz now I can see you!”

Kiri thought of any excuse to leave. She swayed side to side nervously as she managed a weak laugh. Everything she thought about saying flew into the trash can of her brain. She instead said, “Oh, I didn’t peg you as the reading type.” Despite playing deadpan, her wavering voice exposed her nerves.

“HAH!” Gabe bellowed. He puffed out his chest and said like a broadcaster, “Well, now, you see, there are many hurtful stereotypes.”

Despite herself, Kiri let out a small, but genuine laugh. Her previous inhibitions about seeing Gabe dissipated in no time. She wanted to hold on to them, but it felt like he wouldn’t let her.

He resumed his normal demeanor, still smiley but less bombastic. “Never seen you wear a dress before. Looks good on you!”

Kiri had totally forgotten she was still in the dress. Had she planned to go to hang out with Gabe and his friends, she would’ve rather worn her smelly, moth-eaten clothes over this. She slipped her hands into the pockets of her cardigan and scrunched her shoulders. She replied, “Oh, um—” then fell silent.

Gabe blinked confusedly, then brushed it off. “Anyway, so you came for the invitation, right?”

“Well—I wasn’t—I’m kinda—”

“I was really hoping you’d come! But it’s cool if you need to dip. We can hang out another time, if you want!”

Kiri felt like her brain was about to explode. She could swear the voices in her head were making real sounds, and they were fighting with each other. Some said stay, others said leave. It was only natural that she leave. It’s what she’d always done. But strangely, she remembered a line from Uncle Jim’s entry in their shared story.

Will you act when there is so much reason to be inert?

She wondered if this was the change she needed. Maybe it wasn’t getting a scholarship, or a preferred university, or getting out of town at all, but it was a start. Besides, she’d meet her uncle here later; it was better to stick around. She took one shaky breath and replied. “Um, yeah. Just for a bit. I probably won’t go to the after party.”

♦  ♦  ♦

Kiri tried to keep pace as she followed Gabe through the crowded festival. Loud voices and background music overwhelmed her ears. She kept bumping into people. Every inhale she took gave her a different scent from one of the many food tents: roasted chicken, jambalaya, seafood, burgers—everything she needed to make her realize her stomach was now cramping from hunger. She steeled herself and ignored the feeling, and they soon united with Gabe’s group of friends by the main stage.

They seemed like a friendly bunch, at least from the way they welcomed Gabe back with wide grins while teasing him for leaving his book behind. In particular, she recognized them as some of his friends from various places in Goldtown over the years. One, whom she knew, was the mayor’s daughter, Alicia, a red-headed girl with a resting expression like she gave zero craps about anything. Another was a blond jock with a dizzyingly broad “chad jaw,” and he seemed to enjoy feathering it to emphasize just how big it was. The third was a girl even shorter than Kiri (and Kiri was already 5’2” short), but this girl was much louder and more outspoken than she was while she chortled with the others about how good the new barbeque restaurant in town was.

Their smiles cracked as they noticed Kiri trailing just behind him like a piece of toilet paper stuck to a shoe. No one mentioned it, but she knew they were questioning her presence.

Gabe introduced Kiri to the group and halfheartedly attempted to include her at first, but ultimately, it was short-lived. In reality, these people already knew her. They’d already made their judgements. She wasn’t about to change it.

Shrinking down behind Gabe, she thought about distracting herself with her phone, but saw it was already down to 20 percent battery. She should really save it in case Uncle Jim needed to call again. So she stood there watching whatever mediocre band was playing on the stage as the friend group grew larger, slowly pushing her to the outer edges.

As she thought about leaving, the group of community college friends finally moved. Gabe beckoned her to come with them. They strolled, and the smell of weed trailed behind them just like Kiri did. She tried to linger behind without being too far away. Tried to seem engaged in the conversations without really being part of them. She wondered why she continued to stick around. Was it the fact some of them treated her politely on the surface? The occasional polite smile directed at her? The few attempts Gabe made to include her in the conversation?

They moved loudly through the evening as the wind whisked over the tops of the trees and the sun left tiny lines of light dancing in tandem with the leaves. The thought crossed Kiri’s mind that maybe staying in this town wasn’t so bad. It was comfortable, even if no one her age granted her a meaningful connection. Despite her silly inner turmoil, it was peaceful, and she knew she shouldn’t take that for granted. She watched the backs of Gabe and his friends for a while, convincing herself she could live with this dynamic.

The group eventually stopped by a tent on the opposite end of the Portal Festival to where Kiri had started, in front of a donut shop. In that tent, the ultimate community college heartthrob, Dadrien Stajner, sat at the center, perfectly framed by the colorful wheel of fortune they would put up every year during the portal festival. His medium-length, flowing blond hair and sparkling blue eyes looked almost comical to Kiri. She didn’t see the appeal, but apparently, he had something going for him as the friend group flocked around him, chiming sweet little nothings at him as he joked and drew out laughs from the crowd. Whatever he had was so powerful it even seemed to subdue Gabe, the class clown himself, and he just stood there grinning disingenuously.

The mayor’s daughter, Alicia, released a snarky laugh through her nose. “So you’re the psychic, now?” she asked Dadrien, who tilted his chin up like a wise old wizard preparing to amaze the young’uns with news about their true destinies.

“And what of it, young lass?” he replied with a terrible fake British accent.

“His grandma’s out drinking with the chicken farm ladies,” Gabe's outspoken friend Alexandra blurted.

Kiri felt her insides twist when she sensed Gabe and a few others glance at her. She wasn’t wearing her chicken farm uniform, but she might as well have been. She cringed and shied away from everyone’s sight.

Dadrien leaned back in his grandma’s fancy, puffy pink armchair and smirked. “Bingo. Besides, this is gonna be my last festival anyway, before I hit the coast!”

“Aw, we’re really gonna miss you, Day-day!” Alexandra said with a slight pout.

The banter went on for a while. Finally, Dadrien became mysterious. “Now, now… Everybody must be silent and let me do my psychic-ing,” he said, waving his fingers and bugging out his eyeballs. “First of all, I sense we have some newcomers in my humble abode.” He flashed a flirtatious grin at a girl in the crowd. Alicia rolled her eyes at his antics. He continued, “You, newcomer. You must learn the lore about the day that is today, the mighty Portal Festival!”

Somehow, Gabe had slipped quietly through the crowd and appeared beside Kiri. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he tapped her arm, almost subjecting The Boroworks magazine to a cruel fate on the sticky asphalt. He grinned at her. “You know the lore, right?” he asked.

Kiri shook her head, keeping her eyes focused on the wheel of fortune. That was a lie, actually. Uncle Jim had told her about the lore many times. It was her go-to bedtime story as a child. It was the source of many fictional spinoff stories she’d written for escapism. She wasn’t sure why she lied. But it came so naturally that it scared her.

Gabe looked confused, but it didn’t last long, and he smiled dumbly. “Oh, really?” he asked, though it sounded less like a question and more like a skeptical musing. “Even though you’ve lived here all your life? Well, you’ll really enjoy this.”

Something about those words stung. She attempted to laugh it off. Added a little shrug to hammer home just how much she didn’t care, despite her heart feeling like it was racing straight into its death.

Dadrien clapped his hands together. Most of the crowd fell silent while the background noises of the festival continued. Dusk slowly fell above everyone, and the store lights along the street flickered to life. Dadrien began the story.

“Okay, so… This is the legend of the carriage in the plains.” He gestured out as if pointing to a vast expanse. “They say…”

He told the story of the man who started seeing visions in the grassy plains, eventually going crazy, then running off into them. Everyone thought he was missing, as they found nothing but his old backpack and some beef jerky out in the middle of the plains. Some even claimed that could see an apparition of an oval floating nearby.

Kiri barely listened. She instead noticed the little details around her. In particular, two oval mirrors stood on either side of the wheel of fortune. They were there every year. The old woman who ran this tent, whom she had just learned was this guy’s grandmother, apparently, always said the same thing about them: that they were the portals that could show one’s “true form.” Kiri had always asked when they would show her true form, but the old woman had always told her she “wasn’t ready” or “seeing one’s true form takes immense strength.” Probably around early middle school, Kiri called bullcrap, but seeing the mirrors now was at least a pleasant nostalgia.

But something was different about them this year. Was it because they had a fresh coat of gold paint? Sure, but there was something else.

Dadrien’s voice suddenly pierced through the mire of Kiri’s thoughts. When she redirected her attention to him, she saw him staring straight at her, which was odd. Just like Gabe, he’d never once looked at her. He probably had a one-up on Gabe, too, because she was pretty sure he didn’t even know she existed until now. But something about the way he stared at her was unnerving, almost like he knew her, and he was staring straight into her mind. It was like he was an entirely different person.

Still locking eyes with her, he said, “Supposedly, those on the same wavelength with another universe can see the portal during this time of the year. And if you’re not careful, the portal can swallow you whole just like the man who ran away into the plains…” Something about his voice changed, too. It seemed calmer. More certain of itself, like none of this was just a silly legend.

Kiri couldn’t stand Dadrien’s gaze on her. She averted her eyes. Looked back at the mirrors. Wait. Who was that in the mirror? No, actually. What was that? She couldn’t see the entire entity through the back of the chair, but it was sitting exactly where Dadrien should’ve been. What should’ve been Dadrien’s medium blonde hair had become long and silver. Weirdly, some of it looked like a texture that wasn’t hair at all. What little she could see of the face in the mirror was hollow, ghastly. Parts of it glitched and morphed. The body had become different shapes, almost like parts of it were geometric, others vapor. And was that a portal donut growing out of the top of its head? The whole entity itself seemed to shift constantly. And most notably, that distortion she’d been seeing all day surrounded Dadrien—the entity, creature, or whatever it was—like a jagged aura.

Kiri blinked. What the hell? She thought.

Dadrien concluded the story by clapping his hands twice and standing up abruptly, blurting, “The end!”

Kiri jolted as her eyes snapped back to him. He was no longer looking at her. Nor did he look like that monstrosity in the mirror. She realized he had, in fact, never changed in reality. She looked around at the cluster of college students and searched for any sign they had seen something like she did. But they looked around at each other as if emerging from a trance, then immediately resumed laughing and conversing together as if nothing had happened. Kiri briefly looked back at the mirror. It had turned back to normal, showing nothing more than Dadrien’s back, as it should’ve been.

Alicia chuckled sarcastically while offering him a slow clap. “Wow. That was so anticlimactic.”

Alexandra nudged her. “Oh, come on! Don’t be a killjoy.”

“Yeah! I worked sooo hard on that story! I’m so hurt!” Dadrien laughed and dramatically clutched his chest like she’d shot him. Laughs rippled through the crowd.

As reality resumed, Kiri kept a watchful eye on Dadrien. She still wasn’t sure what to make of that weird exchange. Could she even call it an exchange? Maybe she was overthinking just because some popular guy had looked at her for once. As the evening went on, she doubted it had even happened. He didn’t look back at her even once. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of seeing the abomination that had replaced him in the mirror.

As the college students headed back in the direction they came, Gabe gave Kiri a light slap on the shoulder, yet again making her jump and nearly drop The Boroworks again. She regretted not bringing a tote bag with her.

“You—” she hissed through her teeth. However, she refrained from losing her temper. She couldn’t afford to let people notice her, let alone in a negative light.

Gabe didn’t seem to notice her annoyed reaction and blurted, “Sooo, is that your crush?”

“Huh—what?”

“Dadrien, obviously! I totally saw you staring after he told the story. You must’ve really liked it.” He laughed, carefree, which annoyed Kiri even more.

She could feel the eyes of Gabe’s friends, mainly Alicia, Alexandra, and Blond Jock, and some other folks’ land on her briefly. None of them said anything, but her heart constricted like it was about to burst. Stop it, she wanted to say. Why are you even talking to me? Why does it have to be me?

“No, I—I don’t like him,” she said. Her face darkened. “I don’t like people like him.” Not a second passed before she wanted to slap herself across the face. You idiot! She thought. Stop saying presumptuous stuff like that!

Gabe’s grin broke. “People… like him? I don’t get it. No one’s like anyone, in my honest opinion.”

The truth in Gabe’s words cut like a knife. Kiri hated she had to hear it from the person who hardly gave her the time of day throughout her life. She attempted to backtrack. “I mean—I don’t mean that he’s not unique, but sometimes, statistically, you know, some people don’t usually interact with some types of people, you know—” she rambled. She side glanced cautiously at the people walking parallel to her, but they seemed distracted in their conversations. Did no one else hear her say such a shitty thing? She could feel the tears welling in her eyes again.

Gabe shrugged. “I guess I get what you mean,” he said, glancing dreamily at the red and orange sky. “I mean, it’s true that I probably wouldn’t have talked to you because I don’t usually talk to quiet, shy types, but I learned that you’re a cool dragon writer lady, so counts for something, right?” He grinned genuinely.

His words cut through like a cool, fresh wind. Why are you being so nice to me? She wanted to ask. Why, after she’d done next to nothing to earn his respect? She quickly turned her head away. Used her sleeve to wipe away some runaway tears. “Yeah,” she said softly. “And you’re cool book-reading lacrosse guy.”

Gabe chuckled. He stretched his arms upward in a relieved sort of way. “I’m happy you think that,” he said. “We should hang out more.”

♦  ♦  ♦

Gabe and the party ended up going to the new semi-outdoor barbeque restaurant Alexandra had been raving about earlier. Kiri was keen on leaving before then. However, Gabe strung her along, convincing her to at least try a wing or two until her uncle got to the festival. He had quelled any fight in her she had left against staying, so she resigned herself.

She and Gabe talked about their hobbies along the way. She still felt that pinch of guilt for hanging around a group leery of her presence, but with a new friend to back her up, she pitched into conversations with a little more confidence.

In line for food, they talked about their next life steps. Someone broached the topic of the Creative Writing Scholarship.

“So you’re doing it, right Alicia?” Gabe asked.

“Nah. I just like writing as a hobby. My real jam is in starting that jewelry business.”

“Oh damn, sick!” He looked at Kiri, next. “Well, you gotta join it, at least!”

Everyone’s eyes were on her now. She tried to keep her eyes up, but they drifted down from the pressure. “Oh, um—”

She’d been doing alright until this point. But she could already see everything crashing down in front of her, even before it started.

Someone saved her by speaking up. “Honestly? Yeah. She should.” It was Alicia.

Startled, Kiri looked up. Alicia wore a faint, barely readable smile and continued, “I remember the last story you wrote in high school. It was pretty cool.”

“Right?!” Gabe blurted. “I said the exact same thing earlier!”

Kiri blushed. So people did like something about her. She swayed on her feet nervously, then said, “Well, I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

Gabe gave her a friendly slap on the back, making her lurch forward. “Now that’s what I like to hear!”

When everyone had ordered their choice of barbeque and the friend group buzzed with lighthearted conversation, so, too, did Kiri’s phone buzz.

It was Uncle Jim. She let Gabe know she’d be taking a call, then left the loud front patio to the lighter-populated back patio seating. She sequestered herself to a corner behind a bussing station and picked up.

“Hey?”

“Hey, Kiri, I’m out earlier than expected. Where do you want to meet? By the stage still?”

“Oh, um—wherever you want is fine with me. Maybe not the new barbeque place, though…”

“Oh, why not?”

“I’m actually with Gabe and his friends there right now. I was just going to get a small appetizer before meeting with you.”

“What, Gabe Hartmann? That’s great! Why don’t you just stick around with them and eat dinner? I’m happy to pick myself up something from a tent.”

“But—” Kiri thought about protesting, but there was no point. No need to disappoint her uncle just to get away from a group that had been polite to her, if not welcoming. She even liked some people from the friend group now.

She sighed. “Alright. I’ll stick around with them for dinner, at least. Maybe we can get dessert later?”

♦  ♦  ♦

She stopped by the bathroom on her way back from her call. Disappointed to find her bowels suddenly rumbling like a thunderstorm, she knew she would have to occupy the stall for quite some time. She would’ve been better off going to the buffet place with her uncle, where she could go to their hidden toilets.

Why did it have to be a single bathroom? And why did there have to be a tiny open window above the door?

She was straining when she heard a familiar set of voices through the window. It was Alicia, Blond Jock, and Alexandra.

“Bro, it’s occupied,” Blond Jock said with that posturing tough-guy tone.

“Bro, you. I’m going in there first. I need to pee sooo bad,” Alexandra replied snarkily.

“Hell no. I’m the one who mentioned going to the bathroom first, and you two followed. I get to go first, and you two can cry about it.” Alicia said in her distinguishably sarcastic tone, although it sounded angrier than usual.

“Why are you so mad, hmm?” Blond Jock taunted. “Jealous that Gabe was flirting with Kiri?”

“What? Fuck no,” Alicia said.

“Or… that she might have a crush on Day-day?” Alexandra teased. Kiri could imagine her nudging Alicia annoyingly.

“Tch. Why would I be upset about that? As if she’d even have the slightest chance with him,” Alicia chided. She sighed. “Besides, what the fuck was that about? She ‘doesn’t like people like him,’ as if he’s some fucking monolith? Who does she think she is?”

Someone tried to shove the bathroom door open, and the whole unit shook. Kiri flinched. They heard that, she thought. She trembled. They heard everything she talked about with Gabe back at the Portal Festival.

“She’s no different from her uncle, all stuck up and shit, thinking they’re better than others,” Alicia continued. “Mr. Avelen and his stupid lawsuits against my dad, always slowing down progress and Kiri with her annoying writing. I’m pretty sure her uncle wrote that last entry she submitted for the contest.”

Kiri clenched her jaw.

“Daaamn, you have some beef with her whole family,” Alexandra cackled. "Not surprised about her uncle and your dad, though. I heard Mr. Avelen was always giving the last mayor flack, too."

A cold sweat ran down Kiri’s neck, and she could feel her eyes brimming with tears. The pain in her bowels was like someone was pinching her insides, and they rumbled loudly. She was pretty sure someone outside had heard it.

Alexandra continued. “Honestly? I don’t get why Gabe invited her in the first place. I knew he was always kinda curious about her, but I didn’t think he’d actually make a move.”

“Dude, it’s Gabe. He’ll invite anyone,” Blond Jock replied. “And no offense, but after he breaks up, he literally has no standards.”

In a hushed tone, Alexandra said, “Speak of the devil.”

There was a short pause, and then one more familiar voice greeted them. “What’s up, guys? Is the real party around here now?”

It was Gabe. Kiri could hear the smile in his voice. She winced with pain as her bowels pinched again.

Alexandra didn’t waste a second before she asked flirtatiously, “Hey, Gabe~ so why did you invite Kiri to this party? That’s not like you.”

“Huh? Where’d that come from?” he asked and laughed awkwardly.

Kiri could hear Alicia’s eyes rolling. She said, “What she’s asking is why you invited Kiri even though you’ve known her for years and never talked to her. It’s weird.”

“Weird?” Gabe asked. There was another pause, and then he said, “Well, not gonna lie. I guess I felt kinda bad for her? Not a big deal, really.” He laughed nonchalantly. Carefree. No, careless.

Alicia clapped slowly. “Oooh, so you’re playing the good Samaritan now. So, basically, you pity her. What a very kind heart you have.” Her sarcastic voice sliced through the door of the bathroom and straight into Kiri’s bowels. The loose, watery contents flooded the toilet, rumbling throughout the unit and carrying outside.

She heard the four of them cackle in response, despite their trying to be quiet about it. But she didn’t mind that embarrassment. It didn’t suffocate her nearly as much as Gabe’s words.

So it was all just pity? In class, when he liked her writing and joke answer about wanting to become a dragon? When he gave her the party invitation? When he genuinely seemed to want to get to know her as a friend?

Her eyes could no longer hold back her tears. Those disgusting, self-important tears streamed out just like her disgusting watery feces.

Outside, Alexandra yelled out in frustration. “Ugh! Fuck this, I’m going to piss in the porta potty.”

“Same, I’m coming with,” Alicia said.

“You ladies have fun, I don’t really need to piss that bad, sooo I’m just gonna wait for our food,” Blond Jock said, and Gabe agreed to go back with him.

Kiri could hear their voices grow distant as the four of them walked out of the bathroom exterior hallway. She now slumped over the toilet seat, defeated. It didn’t matter anymore. No portal would show up to take her out of this.

She was no Jade.

She was the goddess, instead.

She’d created this monstrosity of a life and deserved to banish herself into a hole for it.

♦  ♦  ♦