A Map Drawn on a Pizza Box Lid
The week before Hana's family moved, her best friend Lucas appeared at the door holding a flat pizza box lid. He had covered the inside with marker. It was a map of their whole neighborhood, and he pointed out each place. There was the hill where they raced bikes, the mailbox that leaned to one side, and the bench behind the library where Hana had beaten him at checkers eleven times.
Hana laughed, although her throat felt tight. Then she noticed a blank corner at the edge of the lid. Lucas had written two words there: YOUR TURN. He asked her to fill it in with her new town and mail him a copy. He wanted to look for every place she found.
The first month in the new house was lonely. The streets looked unfamiliar, and nobody there knew her name. Still, Hana kept the pizza lid on her desk, and one Saturday she picked up a pencil and went for a long walk. She found a bakery with a sleepy orange cat in the window, a footbridge over a narrow stream, and a hardware store where kids could test every squeaky doorbell.
She drew each place in the blank corner, then photographed the page and mailed it. A week later a package arrived. Inside was a second pizza lid with a new corner labeled in careful capital letters: THE MAP OF BOTH OF US.