Imaginary

"Hey, did you girls have imaginary friends?" I ask. I bite my lip and tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

Of course, I know what their responses are going to be. It doesn't ever change no matter who I ask.

"Girl . . . I didn't need imaginary friends when I've got eight brothers," my friend Jenna replies. Her face barely looks stressed as she tosses an orange up and down in her hand.

"Mother says I used to pretend to play with a girl named Tracey" Eloise adds, looking up from her sketchbook, "but I don't really remember her. What about you?" I can hardly hear her over the cacophony of the high school lunchroom.

I try to keep my tone nonchalant. "Oh, yeah, he was pretty normal by imaginary friend standards. I think his name was Logan? No, no . . . that doesn't seem right. Luke? Maybe that was his name. It was so long ago" I answer. I've gotten used to changing the tone in my voice to make it sound like I truly don't remember.

However, the thing is, Luke was most definitely his name. Or maybe I should say, Luke IS his name. Most people think that I'm too old for an imaginary friend, and they're probably right . . . but that still doesn't keep me from talking to him. When most kids moved on from their imaginary friends, I struggled. Unable to let Luke go, my parents became concerned. From then on, I learned to keep Luke a secret. And that couldn't be too much of a problem, right? After all, he's just imaginary.

_ _ _

"Luuuuuke!" I whisper into the dark, my chin just above my comforter. "Luuuuuuuke!" There's silence for a couple moments, but then he answers me.

"Hey . . . Margot!" Luke exclaims. "What's up?" He sounds like he's been on his feet all day, though I wonder how that could be possible.

"Just an ordinary day at school . . . math, science, history, along with a healthy dose of soccer afterschool" I reply.

"And anything I should know about your boyfriend?"

I want to smack him. "He's not my boyfriend!"

Luke chuckles. Once he calms down he asks, "So then you didn't ask Percival out?"

I cross my arms over my chest and scowl at the ceiling. Too bad Luke can't see my expression. "Of course not! I'd have to be crazy to try something so absurd!"

And its true, I'd have to be demented to try it. Percival's the most popular (and may I say hottest?) boy in the school. And he's not just some hunk — he's also the captain of the baseball team, student council president, and a member of the Animal Activist Club at school. Any girl would fall for him. However, I'm practically a nobody compared to him. If I were to date him . . . well, it might be better not to entertain such a fantasy.

"Ye of little faith!" Luke cries out, and his voice echoes in my head. "Why not? You're talented, kind. The Queen of Soccer, if I may say? Not to mention the fact that you're an awesome friend and a supportive sister! You've got many talents! And Percival would have to be deranged not to see it too!"

"Haha. Very funny." I roll my eyes at the ceiling.

"I'm serious!"

"And I'm flattered, but it's never going to work out." I explain for what feels like the thousandth time this week. "But enough about that! How's the election going?"

Luke's silent for a moment. I wonder briefly if imaginary friends can choose when to appear, but it turns out he's still with me. "Well enough . . . I'm only a couple votes behind Henry now."

I silently clap my hands over my comforter and my mattress creaks underneath me. "That's wonderful!" I shout. And I mean it. Luke's running for Student Council President at his high school, and I just know he'll be perfect for the job. In nearly every story he tells me, there's at least one old lady or little kid he's helped. Luke always seems happiest when he's dedicated to others. It's truly admirable.