What I really wanted was the ability to fly, but wishes never quite work the way you expect.

Looking at the comet that night, all I could see was a shooting star that took longer than most. Surely that would mean my wish would somehow mean more, right? If anything, I had more time to think.

I closed my eyes, facing the brilliant blue-white rock that seemed to burn in the sky like a streak of light that escaped from heaven and wished so much for the power of flight. I felt a little pain in my back, but thought nothing of it. No one worries about back pain when you had been standing in the front yard waiting for a celestial being that only shows up once every couple dozen years. That is, until I went to take a shower the next morning.

I wanted to see the world. As a military child, I never had many friends to stick to. The world felt like such a large place I wanted to put it into perspective. What better way to do that than a bird's eye view? I imagined myself above the world, all my problems and worries so small they faded away into the terrain of the earth, unmoved by the lives of any one person walking on its surface.

Unfortunately, at the age of 9, I wasn't so knowledgeable on how physics worked. My wish came true, but my intent was ignored. I asked for flight, but the verbiage was for bird's wings. Eagle's wing to be specific.

Those tiny things are not nearly large enough to give any human I've ever met the power of flight.

Doctors called me a medical miracle (exactly why they did that is beyond me.) We thought about having them removed, but the medical community wasn't sure why they were there at all, so they refused. No one was sure if their malpractice insurance was quite that good and to be honest, they seemed to excited to see them to want them gone.

I might have been close to flying at the age of nine, but every year I got older and heavier. My wings, however, did not get any larger. Thus, no soaring around the world for me. Just these awkward little back-limbs that made me feel weird and molted every so often.

My parents were pretty good at keeping my secret. I never went to the pool during summers, and avoided all sports for the fear of physicals. Taking off my shirt would reveal me for the whimsical freak I was at the age of nine, so I was always clothed, sometimes with two or three layers. I even went so far as to wear my backpack literally everywhere I went. It was all my dad's advice. "Trust me son. If you're going to make it out of this life in one piece, it's easier if people don't know."

It's pretty hard to make friends with your lame-ass 2nd grade backpack filled with nothing everywhere you went just so they wouldn't discover your terrible secret.

As I entered high school, I started to really wonder why I was keeping my appendages hidden. Was I really malformed, or was I blessed by the power of a simple child's wish? I still believed they were one in the same.

My self-esteem still wasn't all that great, it all started to change when I met her. You know, the girl who gives you butterflies in your stomach when she's near, or who ruffles your feathers when you feel ignored (less of a saying in my circumstances and more of a real condition.)

She was everything I wanted in a girl. She was intelligent, curious, funny, and sweet. Okay I'll admit, she was pretty hot too. Why she sought out someone like me, (someone who was trying to stay unnoticed) I may never know. But my existence would have been lifeless and boring had it not been for her.

"Hey, can I borrow a pencil? I forgot mine and we have that quiz today."

Aw crap, I forgot about that one too. English wasn't my strong suit, but then again, neither was planning.

"Yeah, maybe... Just let me see where..."

"Your name is Adrian, right? Sorry to interrupt, I just would never know who to return it to if I didn't know your name."

She brushed her hair aside and gave a small corner-lip smile that really made her question seem genuine.

"I mean, it's no big deal. It's just a pencil."

"Yeah, but all the same, I messed up and have to depend on you to help me out. The least I can do is return the favor later. How can I do that if I don't know you are?"

"Well, you got my name right, so you have at least that much. So what's your name pencil-girl?"

I handed her my best #2 pencil. Somehow it wasn't important at the moment that I didn't have a spare.

"I'm Sarah. Thanks for the help. Good luck on the quiz."

The absolute last thing I gave a shit about was that quiz. Or the pencil, for that matter. What immediately became important was Sarah, the girl so in need of a pencil, she would ask a freak like me.

I guess it's not her fault. So far, no one knew what secret grew across my spine. The weird little appendages that kept me at home every weekend, or kept me from having friends for the fear they would discover the truth that is the winged Teenage Bald Eagle that couldn't even fly. I mean, if you're going to be alienated from other people, the least you could get is the wish you really wish you wished for.

Why don't they teach aerodynamics in 2nd grade?

For the next few days, I was at class more than I ever had. It's amazing how much that teacher can talk, but true to tradition, I never listened. I stared at Sarah, taking diligent notes on ancient greek fables with the pencil I loaned her and trying not to itch my back. Molting season was awful, but I couldn't scratch with the risk of feathers falling out everywhere.

Finally, weeks later, she wondered back to my desk and handed me the pencil back without saying a word. My courage soared with the anger of being ignored by someone who I was secretly admiring all week.

"So that's it? Just a drop of the pencil and no thanks?"

"Sorry, you just looked busy."

I had a book in front of me, but I was pretty good at looking like I was reading.

"Oh, yeah I was just wondering what that favor you might have mentioned was." Where the heck that came from I may never know. For some reason, I had a tendency with Sarah to be bold.

"Well, some friends and I were going out this weekend, but I need a date. Want to come? I'll buy you dinner."

For a girl so smart, she sure was clueless about my feelings. Would I want to go on a date with Sarah? Would a bear like to catch salmon all day? Better yet, does a bear shit in the woods?

"Uh, yeah sure."

Not quite as strong as I felt, but I was good at hiding those things by now.

I made myself as ready as I could be. I shaved, groomed, and plucked as much as I could before Saturday. I felt unusually confident. As if this was the first time I might be normal. Maybe I would finally have that group of friends I liked with a girlfriend I really loved to put the cherry on top. Maybe I'm dreaming too much and I should keep expectations in check. Maybe I don't know what's going to happen either way.

Saturday finally rolls around, and I go to pick Sarah up from her house. It's a quiet part of town, but her house was somehow special. It was painted a bright orange, which was quite different from the blues and browns of her neighbors. Her parents sure had a unique taste in homes, but I didn't care. I was there for the one I couldn't stop thinking about.

The weather had just turned warm, so the shorts she was wearing made it hard to make coherent sentences.

"Hey, you ready to go or whatever?" (or whatever? What was I thinking?)

"Yup, I guess so. Or whatever" She gave me that half-lip smirk again and I felt much more at ease. Something about the way she looked at me felt so honest, it was like she know my wing-nubs were there all along.

It was a very comfortable afternoon, even with people I hadn't really met. I got more confident in myself and it turns out, I might even have a talent for story-telling. Sarah's friends paid attention when I spoke, and the girls were always giving her these looks. Inquiring what was happening between us with their gazes.

I finally felt on top of the world, even though I was sitting in the seat of a movie theater with sticky floors.

Finally, as the night was coming to a close, I had gotten pretty hyped up for what I was sure would be the easiest good-night kiss there had ever been.

Even for the time of night we stood on her porch in, it was ungodly hot outside. Maybe that was just me, but it felt like noon in a southern region of the planet with a side of global warming.

"I had an awesome time tonight. Your friends are pretty cool."

"Yeah, everything seemed to work out pretty well. Let's do it again sometime."

She turned to head inside.

"Hey, wait just a minute." I said, right as she was turning the key.

She paused and looked at me with the deep, understanding gaze she gave me the day we first met. Something about it seemed so safe and so spectacular. The way her eyes danced in the starlight was intoxicating.

I went in for it. I was feeling drunk on the beauty of her body in the pale moonlight and to my dismay, she dodged my lips entirely. Completely dodged me in the approach. It was so awkward, she didn't even make an excuse when she rushed inside.

Of all the days I had wished my 9 year old self had been a little less wishful, never had I wished harder that I could double down on what I was saying and just fly the hell away from where I was right then.

As I sat there, burning in defeat on Sarah's doorstep, I realized that maybe I would never belong with the regular fold. Oh well, they'll never know what it means to flap cursed appendages in the hopes of a promise you'll never have fulfilled.

Thanks for reading! I was hoping to give a romantic twist on the story of Icarus. I hope you enjoyed and welcome whatever feedback you might have for me. This is my first writing prompt response and I know there is a long way for me to go.