“O kay darling, make a wish.” My father put his hand on my shoulder.

“But you can’t tell anyone—otherwise it won’t come true.” My mother stood next to my birthday cake with her hands folded together.

“Wish for a pony—just like I did!” My niece, Annie, who had recently turned five, swirled in a circle as she told the world what her last birthday wish was for the tenth time in the last hour.

“That’s why you’re not getting a pony, little miss.” My aunt said with a shake of her finger. “You can’t stop telling people your wish!”

“If Peoria gets a pony, I can ride it!” Annie stared at her mother’s finger, which was normally used to scold her, but was more in jest than anything else.

My lips came together, and I blew as hard as I could, aiming at the candles in front of me. There were twenty-one of them and they each signified another year of my sheltered life. I watched as the flickering flames danced before disappearing from each one of them and then there was nothing but a puff of smoke rising up from my birthday cake. A cheer erupted in the room as my family and friends moved closer to the table. My mother started cutting the cake and I leaned back with a smile on my face because I had managed to take care of all of them in one breath.

My mother cut a corner piece for me, which had a swirl of icing in the shape of a purple rose—I liked icing a lot more than cake. My fork plunged into the rose and I lifted it to my lips, immediately nodding in approval when the icing started to melt on my tongue. It was so sweet that I wouldn’t have even considered another bite most days, but since it was my birthday, I jammed my fork back into the cake and scooped a layer of icing off that almost toppled off the prongs before it hit my lips. The cake started to disappear as my mother passed out pieces to everyone in attendance and I watched their faces erupt in the same joy of deliciousness that was present on mine.

“This is so good, Mrs. Dawson.” My best friend, Fiona, sank down into a chair and chewed with a look of ultimate bliss on her face.

“Thank you, Fiona.” My mother picked up a slender piece of cake and carved off a tiny sliver before lifting the fork to her mouth.

“What did you wish for, Peoria? Did you wish for a pony?” Annie started trying to climb my leg.

“Annie, stop it. Eat your cake.” My aunt pulled Annie off me and quelled her excitement with a large piece of cake—it was nothing more than a stalemate because the cake was going to send her spiraling into a sugar high.

“I wished for the same thing I wish for every year.” I smiled and pushed another scoop of icing into my mouth.

Freedom.

Despite loving every member of my family, what I truly desired was freedom. It wasn’t that my family was bad—they actually treated me like a princess. The problem was that they treated me too much like a princess.

I didn’t have a typical childhood. While all the kids in my neighborhood ran to the bus stop to go to school, I sat down at the tiny desk my father carved with his own hands so my mother could homeschool me. I didn’t have many friends. Fiona had lived next door to us my whole life and my parents weren’t fond of her, but when they suggested that she wasn’t a good influence, it was the one time I stood up to them.

She had the kind of freedom I craved. Her stories painted a picture of the life I was missing out on. She had fallen in love, had her heart broken, and fallen in love again. I had never even experienced my first kiss, much less anything that went further than a man’s lips on mine. That was about to change, because as soon as I finished opening my birthday gifts, I was hopping on a plane that would carry me far away from the tiny town in Georgia where I grew up.

“How excited are you right now?” Fiona pulled me away from my family. “I need to borrow Peoria for a few minutes!”

“I don’t even know how to describe it.” I practically started giggling. “We’re going to Las Vegas!”

“Remember when we used to talk about this? Did you ever believe we would actually be doing it?” Fiona was so excited she was trembling. “We leave tonight!”

“I never thought my parents would let me go!” I followed her towards my room and when we walked through the door, I put my empty plate on my dresser.

“They can’t stop you anymore. You’re an adult now—you get to make all kinds of mistakes on your own.” She sat down on my bed and grinned.

“They might not be able to stop me, but they aren’t happy about it.” I shrugged and sighed. “I need this though.”

“It’s going to be okay. You’re their daughter, not their prisoner.” She shrugged and leaned over to look in my suitcase. “Did you pack a toothbrush?”

“Yes.” I nodded and folded my arms. “I didn’t forget anything. I even made a list.”

“Makeup?” She nudged a pair of shoes with her finger, peering further into the abyss of my luggage.

“Shit!” I ran across the hall to the bathroom and started throwing some essentials in a small Vera Bradley bag.

“Watch your language, Peoria!” My mother’s words echoed down the hallway.

What? How did she even hear me!?

“Sorry, Mom.” I sighed and walked back towards my room with the bag in hand.

***

S EVERAL HOURS LATER , I scurried through the airport with Fiona running in front of me and my luggage rolling behind me. I felt like a kid in a candy store seeing everything around me. I had always pictured an airport as just a dull building with lines of people waiting to board their flights, but it looked like a mall with a lot of stores I had only seen on television.

We got to our counter and checked our bags before we walked towards the long line of people waiting to be ushered through security and screened. It took nearly thirty minutes to get to the front of the line and I was nervous when I stepped into the metal detector. I followed the instructions, raised my arms, and waited until the agent in front of the monitor cleared me. Once we were through security and our shoes were back on our feet, it really was like being in a mall. The only thing that even confirmed we were in an airport was the line of planes we could see when we passed a window. When we got to our terminal and realized we had two hours before we could even board our evening flight, I walked over and looked out the window. The plane was huge. Seeing them on television didn’t do it justice at all. Watching them take off and land started to create anxiety as I thought of myself being whisked away into the sky in nothing but a metal tube while I put all my trust in arriving safely.

“I’m starting to get really nervous.” I bit down on my fingernail and started to crunch the acrylic between my teeth.

“I’ve got some Valium if you want one.” Fiona opened her purse and started digging.

“No.” I shook my head back and forth quickly. “I don’t want to take drugs.”

“It’s a Valium, Peoria—I’m not offering you cocaine—although what stays in Vegas...” Her words drifted off and she grinned.

“We’re not doing drugs in Vegas!” My words were loud and caused a couple of older people to turn towards me, so I quickly lowered my voice to a whisper. “We’re not doing drugs!”

“Marijuana isn’t even illegal there—neither is prostitution.” Fiona bounced her eyebrows and grinned again.

“I’m not going to Vegas to become a prostitute!” I continued whispering, moving closer to Fiona and giving her the death stare.

“Not us, silly.” She shook her head and smirked. “We could get a couple of guys to show us a good time. I think you have to go outside the city limits, but there are brothels.”

“Have you forgotten I’m a virgin?” I raised my eyebrows and exhaled with a shocked expression on my face.

“You’d still be a virgin—what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” She pulled out a pill bottle and dumped two Valiums in her hand, forcing them into mine before I could object.

“I bet the STDs don’t stay in Vegas.” I pushed the pills into my pocket.

We spent the next two hours walking around the area near our terminal, window shopping for things we couldn’t afford, and eating greasy food at a restaurant which specialized in burgers, fries and heart attacks. None of it really eased the growing anxiety in my stomach as I created every disaster movie scenario involving an airplane in my head. We could be hijacked by terrorists, shot out of the sky by Russians, or even crash land in the desert where we were sold into slavery and forced to live our lives in a harem for desert nomad warlords. Or worse there would be snakes—that movie still terrified me. None of it made sense, but as my mind spun out of control, every scenario was as realistic as the tremble in my hands.

“You’re going to be fine.” Fiona put a hand on my shoulder and startled me from my mental excursion.

“I hope so.” I lifted my fingernail to my lip but before I could bite down on it, Fiona grabbed my hand.

“What was the point of getting a manicure if you’re just going to chew them off?” She pushed my hand back down to my waist.

“Sorry—nervous habit.” I clenched my fist and tried to avoid immediately pulling my hand back to my mouth.

When the plane landed and started pulling up the terminal, I heard the flight attendant tell us to line up. My knees were weak, my vision started to blur, and the world just lost focus entirely. I could hear Fiona’s voice telling me not to forget my carry-on bag, and when I looked down at my hand, I realized I had simply dropped it three feet behind me. I quickly picked it up and closed my eyes as I tried to inhale slowly. It wasn’t working. I reached into my carry-on bag, grabbed a bottle of water, and pulled the Valium out of my pocket. I sighed and tossed them into my mouth before washing the two pink pills down with a gulp of water.

Okay—let’s do this.