“You should totally grow your hair out,” Bella says, tugging on the ends that hit at my shoulders. “It’s super thick and pretty.”
I smile, trying not to blush. “Thanks.”
She sits down next to me as other students pass us on their way to buses or waiting cars. “What are you doing today?”
I shrug, the concrete steps in front of the middle school hard under my tailbone. “Nothing.” I hope I sound casual. Bella’s the first person to really be nice to me since we moved here. I know people are intimidated by my disability. They’re either falsely sweet or just avoid me. Bella is a little too interested in it—constantly asking me questions, being shocked when I can do basic things on my own, going out of her way to “help” me when we’re in crowds—but at least she’s a friend.
“You should come over to my house! It’s a short walk. I can help you figure out how to do your hair.”
I open my mouth to say yes, desperate for any piece of normal, no matter how small, but then my shoulders slump. “I have to wait for my sister to pick me up.”
“She can drive us there.”
“Oh, no, she’s eleven.”
There’s a slight exhalation of air, and I cringe. Bella’s laughing. “You have to wait for your little sister to pick you up?”
“I just mean, I have to wait for her to get out of school and walk here. Then we walk home together. My aunt gets home late.”
Bella hmms dismissively. “We’ll wait for her and tell her to walk home alone. She can, right? Like, she doesn’t need someone to take care of her?”
There’s a slight challenge in Bella’s tone, and I wonder if she’s asking if I need someone to take care of me. “Yeah, whatever. We’re on our own most of the time.”
“Perfect!”
A few minutes of Bella’s chatter later (who is wearing what awful outfit, which girls give up second base, which boys want you to), Fia walks up and grabs my hand. “Come on, I’m starving.”
“I’m going over to Bella’s?” I clear my throat, hating that it came out like a question, and scowl. “You can walk back on your own.”
There’s a long pause, and then Fia says, “How will you get home after?”
“My dad can drive us.” Bella grabs my hand and pulls me up, away from Fia.
“Wait!” Fia tugs on my backpack, nearly making me lose my balance.
“What?” I snap, embarrassed and angry. I don’t want Bella thinking I’m pathetic or that my only friend is my little sister. Even if it’s true.
Fia leans close to me, whispering fiercely. “You shouldn’t go. You shouldn’t be with her.”
Bella snorts her laugh again. “Jealous much? I’m so glad I don’t have a sister. Come on, Annie.”
“It’s fine,” I hiss. “Just go home.” I’m glad for once I can’t see the expression on Fia’s face, because if it’s anywhere near as terrible as I feel, it would kill me.
But I still go with Bella.
FIA
Four Months at Keane
“I’VE NEVER SEEN YOU PUT ON MAKEUP BEFORE.” Eden eyes me curiously from where she’s finishing the braid in Annie’s hair. Her room is next to ours, but she came over as soon as she woke up.
“I’ve never needed to.” I need to, today. The weight of this knowledge is like an itch under my shoulder blades, muscle deep and impossible to reach. Because what I am going to do today is wrong, but I have to ignore that. I have to make it right so I can do it.
It’s terrifying how easy it is to let the wrong wash over me so I know how to use it.
“Wear the dark purple thermal top,” I say, avoiding Eden’s eyes, trying not to feel anything.
“Why?”