It is my thirteenth birthday tomorrow. Thirteen is a special time in someone's life. You become a teenager. You have more freedom. Everyone's personality changes. You have more responsibility, especially because thirteen is the age when you get your own Pokemon.

My name is Jessica Maple. My dad is the head of the Pokemon gym in my town. He never loses a battle (when he tries).

My dad doesn't always try his hardest, because, more often than not, its relatively new trainers trying to earn a badge. If he sees potential and if they're powerful enough for their level, he'll let the trainer win. If they still need to strengthen to progress any more, he won't let them win.

My dad's starter was a Squirtle. It's a powerful Blastoise now, of course. I've seen countless battles of his since. I paid close attention, even when I was a little girl. I always study the strategies, advantages, and types of Pokemon that are in the Gym. Some people have traveled from far away, so I get the chance to see cool, foreign Pokemon.

My always tells the story of when he first met his Squirtle. Then-little Squirt had scrambled right onto Dad's back.

My brother, Ian, who is seventeen, has his own Grovyle, who started out as a Treecko. Rovy is following Ian around. He's level 24 now. Rovy evolved two years ago.

Dad called Mr. Thorne a few weeks ago and made my appointment. Mr. Thorne is the Pokemon Professor in my town. On every kid's thirteenth birthday, they go to his lab and choose their first Pokemon. Everyone chooses between water, fire, and grass starters, except for the Thornes. The title of "Professor" gets passed to the first born son in each generation. The Thorne boys all get electric starters. The future professor is in my grade. His name is Owen. He has blonde hair falling green eyes. Some people say that "electric" green eyes run in the Thorne family. Me, I just have boring straight dark brown hair and blue-green eyes.

I couldn't sleep. Tomorrow, at 10 a.m., I will finally have my own Pokemon.

I woke up bright and early, and dressed in my favorite red t-shirt and jean shorts. I pulled my straight hair into a high bun and looped it through my favorite red and white hat. I went to have breakfast. My mom was reading the paper in the kitchen in her bathrobe, a mug of coffee in her hands. I saw the Pokeball that held her Swampert in her bathrobe pocket. She looked at me and smiled. "Well, hey there, teenager," she said. I beamed. "Hi, Mom! How much longer till 10?" She laughed, and glanced at the clock above the oven. "You've got two hours, fifteen minutes until you're a trainer, sweetie." I sighed. "Thanks," I said. "Hey," she said, looking up. "Since you're up, wanna do some presents?" I nodded. "Go get your brother up, please. Dad is already at the gym." I nodded, and started to my brother's room.

I pushed open the door, and peered in. It was a typical seventeen-year-old boy's bedroom. Ian's room colors are blue, black, and grey. He has cobalt walls, black carpeting, and grey sheets. He has a wooden dresser in one corner, his bed (which Ian was sleeping in) in another, and a navy couch in another corner. Rovy, too, was asleep on the couch, one arm hanging off the edge. Rovy is only in his Pokeball when he needs to be. Usually, he just follows Ian around. Pokemon aren't allowed to be out of their Pokeballs in school during classes, on planes, and in cars moving more than 25 mph. So, Ian keeps an empty Pokeball in his cup holder in his car. Most of the time, Rovy sits in the passenger seat.

I crept over to Ian's bed. The sheets were shoved down, showing me that Ian was only wearing blue boxers. He was sleeping on his stomach, his arm draped over the edge of the mattress. His mouth was open on the pillow, and he was drooling slightly. "Ian," I hissed. "Wake up." He closed his mouth, swallowed, then asked, "What time is it?" He didn't even open his eyes. "Seven forty-five." "Five more hours, please." "Come on, man. It's my birthday. Mom told me to wake you up." He sighed deeply, eyes still closed. "Are we eating breakfast soon?" "Think so." "Will there be bacon?" I rolled my eyes, even though Ian couldn't see it. "Of course." He took a deep breath. "Be down in a minute." I nodded, them darted down the steps.

I bounced into the kitchen. "Ian will be down in a minute," I announced to my mom. She was measuring flour into a bowl. "Okay." Then she turned to me. "I'm making pancakes. You did want pancakes, correct?" I laughed, and nodded. I checked the clock over the oven again. Seriously? Only five minutes had passed?

I sat down at the kitchen table. Then, I got up, and checked on the pancake batter, then sat back down. Then, I went up to my room and straightened it up. Them, I went back downstairs. Come on! Only two minutes? I sighed loudly. "Jess, you're really fidgety." "Mm-hmm." "You should head to the gym. I'll call you when it's time to eat." I gladly got up, and began to walk to the gym.

It was early-ish in the morning. The sun shone over the tops of the trees in the distance. Dew still glistened on the ground. I looked longingly toward the rustling tall grass. It was absolutely forbidden for people without Pokemon to go into tall grass, because wild Pokemon live in tall grass. I promised myself that I would go into all that tall grass once I got my own Pokemon. I arrived at Dad's gym, pushed open the door.

My dad's Blastoise was out. He was sitting in the small pool in the corner of the gym, munching on some algae. Dad was busy training a Totodile that arrived last night. Dad always gets water Pokemon to Level 5, so that young trainers won't have to. Fire and grass Pokemon go to other gyms before they arrive in labs. There was one of the gym helpers training a tiny Mudkip along with Dad. Mudkips are so cute. Dad glanced towards me, and have me a quick smile. Then he went back to training.

When the small battle was done, Dad put the Totodile back into its ball. He came over to me. "Hi, Jessica!" He said brightly. "Having a good birthday so far?" I nodded. "Sorry I couldn't be at the house this morning. Need to train these little guys," he said, gesturing towards the Mudkip and the Totodile's Pokeball. "Do you think..." I began. Dad laughed a bit. "No, these guys won't be at Thorne's lab when we go later. They're still too little, and they'll have to go through a thorough check before they go to the lab." I nodded, and checked my watch. 8:01 a.m. "Mom is making pancakes," I said. "I couldn't sit still, so she told me to come chill here. She said she would call me when it's time to eat." This time, Dad nodded. "Cool. Wanna watch some more training?" "Yes! But, do you think...I...could maybe try?" He smiled, a bit sadly. "Sorry, Jess, but no. Only gym workers are allowed to use Pokemon before they're given to their permanent owners-" "Wait, on an unrelated note, can't people trade?" I asked, interrupting. "Nobody trades away their starter Pokemon. You have a special bond with it, that you can't replicate with my other Pokemon, no matter how hard you try." "Kay." Then, I went to the bleachers to watch.

Dad took out the Totodile, trained it a bit more, then he put it back into its ball. He pulled out a few other Pokemon, and examined them. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Mom. "Dad!" I called. "Breakfast!" He nodded, then put the Pokemon back into their balls. He turned to the assistant. "Keep training these guys." "Okay." Then, he came to the door where I was waiting. We walked home.

There was a big plate of pancakes on the table. Ian's head was laying on the table. He was still in only boxers. Rovy was asleep in the chair next to him, leaning on Ian. My mom grinned when my dad and I walked in. "Hello again, birthday girl!" She said brightly. "Want to open presents while you eat?" "Yes!" My mom grinned again, then turned to Ian. "Ian, wake up. And please, don't have Pokemon out at the table! Put Rovy in his ball." Stirring, Ian said, "But, Mom, he hates it!" "He can tolerate it while we have breakfast." Ian groaned, and patted Rovy's head before coaxing him back into his ball.

We ate pancakes, and I opened my presents. I got some clothes, a tiny bag with a space for a Pokeball, a backpack full of tiny slots for Pokeballs, and some other stuff. I liked all of it, but the best part was still yet to come.

We finished eating at about 9:15. I begged my dad if we could go to the lab early. "No, honey, our appointment is at ten! Be patient." "But it's my birthday!" "Everybody gets their first Pokemon on their birthday." "Please, please, please? I bet Dr. Thorne is up! Owen Thorne, in my class, talks about how his dad always goes to his lab early in the morning. Please?" Dad finally sighed. "I'll call," he grumbled.

"Hello? Is this Dr. Thorne?" Dad asked, the phone pressed to his ear. "Ah, okay. Hi, Dan, this is Jackson Maple. I've for an appointment for my daughter to come get her starter at ten. Is it alright if we come early? Not to burden you, or anything...Wow, thanks! See you in a few!" Dad turned to me, smiling. "Go out your shoes on!" I ran down the hall to where my shoes were, sliding on the wooden floors in my socks. I heard my dad telling Ian to get some clothes on.

"Let's go, guys!" I called impatiently. Everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. "Dad, please," I begged. "Hurry up!" He moved a bit more quickly. "Jessica, you should improve your attitude a bit," my mom said. I grimaced apologetically. "Sorry," I said. "It'll all be gone once I get my own Pokemon." They were finally ready, and we began to walk to the lab. Ian had pulled on shorts and a t-shirt. I saw an empty Pokeball sticking out of his pocket, and Rovy scurried after him. We all began to walk to the lab.

Well, everyone but me walked. I would run ahead, then run back. "Jessica, seriously," Dad said. If you stay next to me, then we can all jog. Okay?" I eagerly went back to my father, and we all jogged to the lab.

We pushed open the heavy doors. There were some scientists and researchers in the lab, working. I knew where to go, though. I remember when Ian got Grovy. Then, he was just a tiny Treecko. I was nine years old. It had been cold outside, and Ian had held Eecko in his jacket, pressed to his chest when we walked home. Most Pokemon have an official name, then a nickname. My brother uses just a shortened version of whatever Rovy's evolution is. When he was a Treecko, his nickname was Eecko. Now that he's a Grovyle, his nickname is Rovy. When he evolves into a Sceptile, we will call him something else.

It took all my self-control not to race to the back of the lab. We walked at what seemed like one mile per hour.

After what seemed like hours of walking, we finally reached the back. I saw Owen Thorne sitting down, playing with his Pikachu. He had turned thirteen a few months ago. The Pikachu looked over at me. "Pika," it told Owen in the cutest voice. He smiled, and patted its head. Then, Owen glanced my way. He gave me the "sup" nod, and I returned it.

We at last got to the back of the lab. I saw the table with three Pokeballs on it. One of the would be mine.

Dr. Thorne looked over. "Hello, Maples!" He exclaimed. He was a perpetually happy man. Then, he directed his gaze to me. "Hello, birthday girl! Excited to pick out your very own Pokemon?" I nodded enthusiastically. He gestured toward the table.

The table was green on top, slightly resembling a pool table, but smaller. "Grass on the left, water in the middle, and fire on the right," Dr. Thorne said. "Which ones, specifically, do you have today?" I asked. "Bulbasaur, Squirtle, and Charmander." I looked at Dad, and he smiled. I bet he was wondering if i would choose a Squirtle, like him. Well, I don't want to have the same Pokemon as my dad. That wouldn't work out.

Since I could first read, I started researching Pokemon. I found out which starters had the best advantages and disadvantages. I knew all their starting moves, and when they would get later moves. I knew all their names.

I reached for the Pokeball on the right.

Just before my hand touched it, my dad said, "Wait, Jessica." I pulled my hand back. "That's a Charmander," he told me. "I know." "You're going to try to get gym badges, right?" I nodded. "Charmander has a big disadvantage in the beginning. It's going to be really hard to train him." My dad stared at me, waiting for my response. "But," Dr. Thorne said. "Charmander grows to be very strong and powerful. Let the girl make her own choice, Jackson." My dad pursed his lips and didn't say anything. I saw Owen and his Pikachu staring at us.

I looked from Dr. Thorne, to my dad.

I grabbed the Pokeball with Charmander in it.