Sarah Cameron, also known as the Kook Princess, secretly hated the nickname. She'd had everything she ever needed or wanted handed to her, and she was supposed to be happy. She was supposed to be perfect. The boys all wanted to date her, and the girls all wanted to be her. But she wasn't happy or perfect, and she thought she hid it pretty well. Nobody had ever shown any signs of suspecting otherwise, and the ones who came close, she chased off.
It was almost like she enjoyed being unhappy, her own form of rebellion against the perfect life she was born into. Except it wasn't perfect, and she hated that people didn't see that.
Her mom died, and life is supposed to be perfect. Her dad remarried, and life is still supposed to be perfect. Her brother Rafe is spiraling, and yet life is supposed to remain perfect. She hates it.
Sarah misses her mom and the way her brother used to be—how he'd hold her hand when she cried and sneak her extra dessert. But that feels like another life. Now, all they do is fight, and she can't pinpoint when it started, only that it hasn't stopped.
She feels alone. Even her dad and her sister, Weasy, whom she loves the most, are blind to her descent into depression. She just wants to be seen for once—not as the perfect daughter or the Kook Princess, but as the imperfect girl who is struggling. But no one does.
The day after the storm, she found herself chasing off birds trying to eat the baby mice whose burrows had been disrupted by the water. When she tried explaining this to her dad, he didn't seem to care.
"The birds have to eat too, Sarah," was his dismissive response.
"No, it's mouse genocide out here! No!" she cried as she swatted away another bird. She missed Kie, one of those friends she mentioned she chased off for getting too close. Kie would understand this, though.
"It's the cycle of life, sweetheart. Now come on," her dad tried to persuade her.
"I can't be a part of it!" she said stubbornly. "First they came for the mice, Daddy—"
He interrupted, "Well, I have an actual human being who could use your help."
Her curiosity piqued as she noticed a woman standing behind her dad. They shook hands.
"This is Lana, Scooter's wife," her father introduced. "You were storm prepping with him, right?"
"Yeah," Sarah replied, "he helped me latch the cabin on the Druthers."
"Last night?" her father asked.
"Yeah," Sarah confirmed, wondering what this was all about.
"And did he go out after that?" her father continued his questions.
"From here?"
"Yeah."
"No. Are you crazy? There was a Hurricane!" Sarah exclaimed, wide-eyed.
"Well, did he say where he was going?" Lana cut in. "Did he get a phone call or mention anything?"
"He didn't say anything to me," Sarah responded, now wishing she had better news after seeing the crestfallen and panicked look on Lana's face. "I'm so sorry. Is he okay?"
"He's absolutely okay. He's just hunkered down somewhere," her dad reassured. "We'll find him."
They walked away, and Sarah heard more birds overhead. She sighed forlornly, knowing she had been fighting a losing battle. It was a familiar feeling, one she hated being so comfortable with. But she plastered a smile on her face and walked inside, playing the role of the perfect girl she was supposed to be.
