True Colors

Description

Turning Red meets The Giver in this novel about a town where everyone agrees to think positively—but one girl, whose emotions manifest as colors, can’t hide her true feelings.

In Serenity, Minnesota, everyone looks on the bright side, and that’s on purpose: to live in this town, people have to agree to talk positively and only focus on the good things in life. For twelve-year-old Mackenzie Werner, who has the rare gift of her emotions showing up as a colorful haze around her body, this town seems like the perfect place; she’ll never face the embarrassment of a grumbly grapefruit smog if everyone and everything is set up to be happy. But when a documentary maker comes to town and starts asking questions, Mackenzie, overwhelmed with emotion, can’t hold her haze back—and it explodes onto the whole town. Now everyone has their own haze, revealing their real feelings. As Mackenzie learns that emotions go beyond surface level, the whole town must reckon with what it means now that these true colors are on display.”Grounding a plot reminiscent of The Giver against a contemporary backdrop, Cooper depicts Mackenzie’s bright emotions and desire to conform via a first-person POV that resounds as vibrantly as the protagonist’s rainbow glow. Insights from the documentary footage and Serenity paraphernalia add nuanced layers to this tale about idealism gone awry.” —Publishers WeeklyAbby Cooper is the author of three middle-grade novels: Friend or Fiction, Sticks & Stones, and Bubbles, all of which incorporate a speculative element into a contemporary setting. A former school librarian and educator, Abby lives in Minnesota with her husband and son. Visit abbycooperauthor.com.IF I  WERE A DESSERT, I’D BE A FUNFETTI CAKE.
 
Some  people, like my best friend Tabitha, think vanilla is  boring. Too basic, too plain, too why would you ever in a million years want vanilla when  there are so many other more exciting flavors?
 
Not that she’s calling me boring, basic, or plain. Tab knows  better than anyone that I am anything but.
For the record, I think vanilla is melt- in- your- mouth delicious. Anyway, Funfetti isn’t just vanilla. What  really makes it special is the way it’s not only covered in rainbow sprinkles on top, but also has them baked right into the batter. It’s bright. It’s bold. It’s a forkful of fun. A slab of satisfaction. A hunk of heck yes.
Basically, it’s happiness on a plate.
 
And that’s me. Not especially vanilla or rainbow- y (at least, not right now), not even super fun all the time. Just happy. Always. No  matter what. Even when I get a stomachache from eating too much Funfetti. Though I’d rather not have one of  those.
 
I push my plate of cake away and lean back in my tall stool. “Okay, I  really need to be done now.”
 
“Tell it to your dad!” Tabitha’s long blonde waves dance as she laughs. My best friend used to remind me of a dandelion (in a good way, not a you- remind- me- of- a- weed way), but now,  after a major summer growth spurt, she’s blossomed into the brightest sunflower. “He’s the one who keeps bringing out more.”
 
She’s right. The number of plates in front of us makes it look like ten  people are eating at the front  counter, not four.
 
“Whoa, let’s not make any rash decisions  here,” our friend Asha says between mouthfuls of fresh cherry cheesecake. She and Eloise turn and wave to my dad, whose flushed, flour- covered face occasionally peeks through the win dow between the kitchen and the rest of the bakery. “Keep it coming, please, Mr. Werner!” Asha calls, and we all laugh.
 
Everybody around us laughs too, even if they  don’t  really know what  they’re laughing at. Laughter is highly contagious around  here. Same with joy, smiles, and  every other good  thing.
 
While Asha, Eloise, and Tab finish this round of treats, I gaze out the floor- to- ceiling window directly in front of us. As usual, it’s a beautiful day. Lots of  people are out, and every one smiles and waves as they walk by. The sunlight streams in, giving my friends a yellow glow. I have a yellow glow, too, but in a slightly different way. I smile at the blue sky, the blossoming flowers, and the leaves on the trees that are just starting to change color for fall.  There’s something special about nature  here, something different. When trees sway in the breeze, they look like they’re dancing. When flowers bloom, they all bloom together, as though the thou-sands of them that line our streets are creating a picture only they can make.
 
I shift my gaze  toward the center of town. Color Me Delicious is on Main Street, but it’s set slightly back, leaning  gently against the  giant hill that separates Serenity from the city. You can see a  little bit of everything from  here: the town square, where kids splash in the  giant fountain and  people of all ages play at the Ping- Pong and board game tables and in the bounce  houses and ball pits; the perfectly wide, square sidewalks, inscribed with inspiring phrases like Negativity- free zone and Live, laugh, love; and some of the other businesses, like the buffet- style restaurant, the general store, and the enormous Serenity library, where you can not only borrow books, art, games, and tools, but pretty much anything you could ever want or need, too.
 
Most  houses are  behind Main Street, but  there are a handful at the end. It looks like every one is having another  great day. Mr. and Mrs. Reilley are reading on the porch in front of their  house. In front of the  house next door, all five Sharp kids are playing tag. Everything is as it always is. Predictable, positive, perfect Serenity. Except, at the little white  house next to that, the one on the corner . . .
 
“Whoa,” I blurt out. “What’s  going on over  there?”
 
My friends practically drop their desserts. Clearly, this is serious.
 
“No one’s left town lately,” Tabitha says, but it comes out like a question.
 
Asha’s dark curls bounce as she shakes her head. “Not that I can think of.”
 
“Nope,” Eloise agrees.
 
“Then how . . .”
 
She  doesn’t finish the question. It just hangs in the air above us like one of the bakery’s totally majestic twinkle lights.
 
Kids  aren’t supposed to know  there’s a massive wait list to live in Serenity, but Mom and Dad have been talking about it all the time lately, which means I know, which means my friends know, too.  There are about one thousand of us who live  here, which means enough jobs for  every adult who wants one without having to go into the city. Plus, the daycare or school never gets too crowded. Or the bakery, of course. Nobody likes a crowd, especially when fresh desserts are at stake.
 
Since no one has moved out lately, whoever this  family is— these three  people including a girl who looks around our age who I just saw standing beside a van that said MAEVE’S MOVERS– they must be  really special.
 
“Well, this is  great,” Asha says  after a minute. “The more the merrier.”
 
“Absolutely,” Tabitha agrees. “I’m  going to paint them some-thing  tonight. Maybe a picture of a beautiful sunny day.”
 
“No way,” I joke. Tabitha has painted so many beautiful, sunny days she could open her own museum.
Eloise grins. “Finally, I  won’t be the newest anymore!”
 
We laugh at that. Eloise’s  family came  here three years ago, but every one still calls them new.
 
My friends start brainstorming how we can welcome the new  family. I try to chime in, but a silly  little lump has built a home in my throat for no reason. Even if it’s unusual, it’s  great that a new  family is moving in. Who  doesn’t love a new friend?
 
It’s just the “unusual” part I’m a tiny bit stuck on. This seems  really sudden.  There’s a  process,  after all.  People have to do an application, an interview, a tour. By the time new families actually move in,  we’ve usually met them at least once. But I’ve never seen  these  people before in my life. It’s probably fine. It’s just that unusual  things— along with unexpected and unpredictable  things— don’t  really happen  here. It’s kind of the  whole point.
 
Tabitha squeezes my wrist. “Are you okay?”
 
My heart pounds a little faster. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Asha and Eloise exchanging a look.  They’re probably wondering the same  thing— and thinking how weird it would be if my answer was no.
 
I force a smile so big that  there’s simply no room for a lump in my throat, or for the bad feelings that come with it.  Because it is no big deal, and I am very okay. I’m more than okay, actually.
 
“Yeah, totally good.” I gesture to the colorful rings of air out-lining my body from head to toe. “You know how the colors get goofy sometimes, but just ignore them. I’m fine. Excited. Happy!”
 
And it’s true. I’m super happy, just like everyone  else.  There’s no reason not to be. That’s what I need to focus on— not the itty- bitty fearful feeling that comes with meeting new  people, even  here.
 
 Because just like a Funfetti cake  can’t hide its sprinkles, I  can’t hide the way I feel.US

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