Emma absolutely hated the days when prospective adoptive parents came to the childrens home. In all her seven years living there, not once had anyone chosen her.
When she was just a little girl, she used to look forward to those days. Shed watch the smartly dressed mums and dads like they were fairy godmothers and wizards, certain theyd whisk her away to their fairy-tale castle. She imagined a new mum whod tuck her in at night with a goodnight kiss, a new dad whod carry her on his shoulders, maybe even her very own bedroom. And best of all, she wouldnt have to see that annoying Billy every day. He was always trying to pull her plaits and calling her Twiggy.
Emma never actually knew what that word meant, but it sounded mean, and Billy just kept taunting her: Twiggy! Twiggy!
She was just five when she ended up at the care home, after her parents died in a car crash. For a long time, Emma couldnt make sense of why Mum and Dad never visited and why theyd left her behind. Eventually, she realised they werent coming back. As time went on, their faces faded from her memoryshe even forgot their voices, their scent, the house theyd all lived in together.
How she longed for the day someone would finally pick her! But it never happened, not for her. She grew older and started to understand whyshe just wasnt pretty enough. The ones who got chosen were always the gorgeous girls with glossy hair tied in ribbons and the sweetest smiles.
Billy kept on winding her up. By now, Emma knew that a twiggy was just a little bird. It didnt sting so much, but he still didnt let up.
On adoption day, all the girls got dressed up, ribbons neatly tied into their hair. But Emma, tired of waiting to be picked, grabbed some scissors and chopped off her own hair into a short, boyish crop. She didnt want anyone to choose her anymore. Shed decided that from now on, shed do the choosingabout everything and everyone in her life.
The carers were aghast when they saw her new haircut, and as usual, Billy just shouted after her, Twiggy!
Emma had just turned twelve, Billy was three years older than her. That day, as ever, no one wanted her. Her choppy haircut and stormy green eyes probably looked a bit too fierce for most.
Three years later, Billy left the home. After saying his goodbyes, he turned to Emma.
Alright then, see you, Twiggy? he said.
Yeah, bye, Emma replied coolly.
Keep going, yeah? Wont be long! Three more years and Ill come back for you, Billy said, totally confident.
As if! Who said Id pick you? Idiot! she shot back.
Billy gave her a long, strange look, then headed off without looking back.
When Emma finally left the home for good, she stepped outside and breathed in the freedom of adulthood. She wasnt the ugly duckling anymoreher hair flowed down past her waist, her green eyes sparkled, and she had a delicate figure. She set off for her late parents’ flat, looking forward and ready for new beginnings. Then suddenly a voice behind her:
Hello, Twiggy.
She spun around. There was Billy.
What are you doing here? she asked.
I promised Id come for you, so here I am, he replied, stepping closer.
But I told you, Im the one making the choices from now on! Emma fired back, looking up at him. Hed growntall now, broad-shouldered.
Well, choose me, Emma, he said gently.
Ill think about it. And with that she marched off to her new home.
From then on, every evening, Billy would come and sit on the bench under her window. He’d wait until the lights in her flat went off before heading home himself. The blazing summer faded into drizzly autumn, then into winters chill, but Billy kept coming, faithful as ever. One cold evening, Emma finally sat beside him.
Arent you tired of this? You must be freezing, she said.
Its fine. I can wait. Just pick me, please? he said, gazing at her with those kind, steady eyes.
Emma jumped up from the bench, flustered, and ran inside to watch him through her lace curtains as he stared up at her window.
On the 31st of December, Emma was rushing home after work. She still needed to lay the table and slip on her new dress before New Years Eve. The bench outside was emptyno Billy. Her heart skipped. Panic crept inhad something happened? She didnt know his address or phone number. You fool, Emma! she muttered to herself.
Just then, her room brightened with a flash of light outside.
Fireworks already? she thought, moving to the window.
There, burning bright in fiery letters on the fresh white snow, was written:
CHOOSE ME, EMMA!!!
And there sat Billy, waving up at her as the flare lit the night.
