Chapter 1: Shit

I was annoyed. A little.

Really, only a little.

I mean, when you're in graduate school and clocking 15+ hours in clinic smack dab in the middle of midterm season, your brain gets pretty fried.

So, it's not like I was apathetic about the Disney meet and greet.

I love Disney.

To be brutally honest I was "that girl" in a class of 25 year old cohorts. But today, I was unhappy Disney girl. Annoyed Disney girl. I-just-don't-have-the-energy-or-time-to-care-that-much Disney girl.

So, with a chip on my shoulder, sleep on my mind, and three exams on my conscience, I ordered the largest cinnamon–almond –double–mocha latte on the menu, parked my butt in a chair, flipped open my Kinesiology of the Musculoskeletal System: Foundations for Rehabilitation text book, and waited for this whole dumb meet-and-greet thing to be over.

I had signed up for this Disney meet and greet under….happier circumstances.

Last summer. That's when had I signed up.

I grunted into my coffee, remembering.

It had been a good day. Last day of finals. I'd aced my Movement exam and totally owned the Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation practical.

It was May, the sun was shining, my favorite band was playing locally on Saturday, and my hair happened to look fantastic (which in itself is a miracle). To top it off, I'd just bought new Saucony's (for TWENTY dollars – shipping included) that were orange, aquamarine, and blue-violet – all my favorite colors.

Basically I was Jennifer freaking Lawrence.

Invincible. Confident. Stunning.

And I was ready to start my month of vacation with the best run of my life.

And it WAS the best run of my life! I pumped 8 miles of glorious road in my twenty dollar Sauconies. Uphill, downhill, gravel, grass, tidal wave – you name it. I ran it.

That's when…I saw the flyer.

It was one of those flyers stapled to a telephone pole on top of a zillion other flyers. But this flyer was different. It…was glittering – appropriately because it was drenched in glitter.

…I was in a good mood.

…So at that time glitter was super attractive.

…So I read it:

DISNEY MEET AND GREET

MEET THE ORIGINAL, REAL LIVE DISNEY CHARACTERS

NOVEMBER 1 OF NEXT YEAR

REFER TO THE REGISTRATION NUMBER BELOW

BE THERE

DON'T MISS OUT

I'M TALKING TO YOU

!NO KIDDING!

(HAVE A MAGICAL DAY)

It was signed by Mickey Mouse.

"No way!" I had blurted, taking the flyer and stuffing it in my sports bra. Laughing, I turned my iPod to some Disney song or another to finish the workout. "No way!"

Way.

Long story short, here I was…couple of months later, stressed out of my mind, drinking a five dollar coffee in a room full of art school rejects and five year olds.

Embarrassed, I slammed my textbook shut. A couple of thespians with nose rings and major attitudes gave me the once over as I stuffed Kinesiology of the Musculoskeletal System under my arm.

"Who the Hell am I kidding." I muttered, darkly apologetic to whoever was judging me. Hiding behind loose hair, I charged for the exit. "I don't belong here anymore."

BAM.

The second I turned the door handle, everything went black.

Of course.

Everything also went silent. Beautifully, utterly silent.

Then…

…golden sprigs sprouted across the room. Shyly at first, intertwining and collapsing into dribbles of sparkles. Then, without warning – I mean, I kinda jumped – the golden sparkles sucked together and exploded. Fireworks sizzled to the ceiling, falling like pixie dust on our upturned faces until a very familiar voice said:

"Hi-ya folks!"

Mickey. Mickey Mouse. M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-E!

My mouth dropped. My jaw hit the floor.

He was real. Sure the flyer advertised it but…who would have believed?

I turned to one of the five year olds. I blurted something unintelligible and pointed at Mickey Mouse.

She gave me a look that basically translated to duh.

"Welcome one! Welcome all! Welcome to the Disney Meet and Greet!"

I sat.

The air started to shimmer as the particles vibrated to the tune of "Be Our Guest." Cool.

"We're all happy to have ya!" Mickey Mouse said. His white gloves glowed as he swept his arms.

"And boy oh boy was it a hassle to get ya all! Although it may seem those flyers were happy coincidences randomly placed, each and every one of you was actuallychosen to be here tonight!"

I blinked. My proverbial butt slammed hard onto reality.

Excuse me? Chosen to be here to tonight? I thought of the glittery flyer and its irresistible charm – so irresistible that I stopped in the middle of my workout to look at it.

Minorly paranoid and majorly annoyed at the swooning nose-ringed thespians, my first thought was: Um ok…creepy.

My second thought was: Why me?

Mickey Mouse beamed. "I suppose you are all wondering 'why me?'"

Like Hell you suppose right!

"You have been chosen…" continued Mickey Mouse, addressing the audience at large. "…because you need a little help. Everyone here needs something different. A little guidance. A little motivation. A little encouragement. A little friendship."

I swear Mickey Mouse looked straight at me. "A little kick in the pants."

My heart stopped. Then it did this crazy somersault in my throat. It took a few more laps around my rib cage as Mickey Mouse continued with his speech.

"Whatever or whichever the reason….you are here. And we are here. All of us. To help. With a little faith. A little trust. And…."

"Just a little bit of pixie dust!" sang the thespians, five year olds, and art school rejects in rhythm.

I did not partake. My voice tingled but it didn't get to my tongue or past my reservations. Smothering my guilt in skepticism, I glared at the sticky-notes curling out of my Kinesiology textbook.

"Each of you will be visited by three characters." Mickey Mouse said. "These characters represent you. Your personality. Your dreams. Your goals. Your fears. Your secrets. You will meet them. You will speak with them. It will be just like looking in a mirror."

Excitement buzzed in orchestral tones. I held Kinesiology of the Musculoskeletal System against my stomach. It felt like cannibal butterflies were having a war down there.

Why was everyone so excited? I hated self-assessing.

And pardon my French but how the Hell could these Disney characters know anything about me? About my life? About my responsibilities? About my…

….secrets?

No. I was not going to be vulnerable. No way.

Resolve bolstered, I stood up. I turned to leave for a second time.

I stopped.

Every single Disney character ever made….was there. They lined every wall, filled every corner, blocked every exit.

I was breathless. Utterly breathless. So…hugging my textbook…I sat.

Mickey Mouse smiled.

"Time for the first character….mark, set, go."

I don't know why….I really don't…but I closed my eyes.

I heard Genie from Aladdin high fiving one of the nose-ringed thespians.

I heard Ariel from The Little Mermaid saying "Hi!" to one of the art school rejects.

I heard Anna from Frozen kneeling by the five year old.

Then, I heard someone tapping the hardcover of Kinesiology of the Musculoskeletal System.

Heart going ballistic, I opened my eyes.

"Shit. I would get you."