Excerpt:

Autumn never wanted to be herself. She didn't like her dull, weird hair, or her B.O.Ts a.k.a. Boobs of Terror, as she liked to call them. She longed to be beautiful and popular...and loved.
Her crushes and desires to have a boyfriend only worsened as she became older. If any of the guys in her class took notice of her, she stole it and ran with it. The diary entries continued, filled with pages of desperate sentiments of longing.

Dear Journal,

Why do I go so crazy over cute guys?? Why doesn't anyone want to be with me? Guys like big boobs right? I'm humongous! So what's the deal? Doesn't that give me some kind of noticeable quality?
P.S...Matt looked at me today in Study Hall.

––––––––

Autumn, now walking down the hallway at school, her long, brilliantly shiny red hair swaying back and forth and blowing in the wind, walked directly towards Matt. His mouth gaped open as she strutted down the hall in her new red heels. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, and she was basking in the moment.

"Hey there," said Autumn, brushing past him and turning around so Matt could absorb all of her.

***

The drive home was a quiet one. She didn't want to hear anything except the wind blowing by. Autumn rolled down her windows and let the breeze caress her face. She always liked driving with the windows down. It was freeing, in a sense, to be part of the wind. She loved to drive that way on the interstate, because she felt like she was flying.
"This is so wonderful. I feel more at home and at peace like this than I do in that stuffy church. That can't be right," she thought. "Why don't I get into church the way everyone else does? Why am I different?" She stuck her arm out the window, letting the wind push against her hand. She made a swimming motion, feeling the breeze intertwine with her fingers. It wasn't too cold yet for her to roll up the windows.

***

Autumn took another deep breath, closing her eyes and listening to the sounds of the waves softly rolling against the shore. Then there was another sound, like someone running. She opened her eyes, and she saw…him. He was tan, golden from the sunset on his bare, glistening skin. His shaggy blond hair flowed behind him, bouncing slightly with every step. Autumn could see that he wore simple red shorts and gray tennis shoes, as he got closer. She tried to focus on her book, but it was impossible. He was too perfect. Autumn wondered if Hercules might have looked similar to this wonder of a man. He looked to be about her age, but she couldn’t be sure, nor did she care.