The classroom buzzed with voices and chairs scraping. Mira stood at the doorway, clutching her star-zipper backpack.
A chair scraped loudly behind her. Mira jumped and wrapped her arms around her backpack.
She peeked at a group of children building a tall block tower. "I am new here," Mira said.
Mira reached out a hand, then pulled it back. Her fingers worried the cold metal star on her zipper.
The classroom bell rang. "Art time!" someone called.
Mira opened her star-zipper backpack and pulled out her own worn crayons. They were shorter than the others, but they had every color.
The girl in the yellow dress reached for a red crayon. The box was empty. She bit her lip.
Mira hesitated. Then she slid her red crayon across the desk.
They colored side by side, red and yellow swirls blooming on their paper.
The classroom noise softened. Mira's star zipper caught the sunlight.
Mira smiled and uncurled her fingers from her backpack.
Her star zipper gleamed. It felt like maybe, just maybe, she belonged here.
