He once knew a girl named Dakota. She was rash—startlingly so. Like the sun piercing through the curtains while you’re trying to sleep. She was never known to tell a lie, in fact, it probably wasn’t possible. Brutally honest comments under her breath were most often heard by the people around her—people who would have to bite their tongue to keep from snickering at her words. She was foolish, too. At least that’s what her teachers would have said. Spontaneity never seemed to go over well with adults. Written off as irresponsibility and foolishness, her impulsive nature always earned her disapproving looks. Her smile, however, was the opposite. It wasn’t harsh or startling. It was warm. Like the sun filtering through curtains, waking you up slowly for you to greet the morning. Everyone around her felt welcome—and perhaps that’s the only trait that mattered.