“His mother’s flowers won all sorts of prizes for their beauty, but he thought Libby, with her brilliant copper-streaked hair and striking blue eyes, was more beautiful than anything found in a garden. She was an enchanting princess, reigning over a comely court.He’d known Libby was a princess since they were children. She’d captivated him long before he started school, and for years, he’d been trying to win her attention. Some people thought she was crazy, but she wasn’t. She was ethereal. Magical. Like a fairy or butterfly.If only he could be like her. Happy and free.She seemed to understand what so many people did not. That happiness was not found in trying to pigeonhole one’s self into another’s ideal. Happiness was found in embracing all you were created to be.She twirled again in the twilight.Libby seemed to draw energy from the flowers.”