And Then We Fell Apart (18+)

chapter 13

Sam is gone the next afternoon. He's at Bennett's house because he got a PlayStation 2 for his birthday, and he begged for his friends to come over and see it. I was invited, but I pass. Sometimes, I think about what Stella said about needing to be around more estrogen. That, or I should be around less testosterone.

He'll be back after dinner. We made plans to go get ice cream together.

I'm home by myself while my mom is at work when I hear the back door open. We all leave our doors unlocked here out of complete trust for everyone in our neighborhood. It's probably not the safest thing, but it's the norm. It's almost more strange if you do lock your doors.

I turn my head, furrowing my eyebrows in utter confusion when I see Holly and Stella in walking through my kitchen. I don't know if either of them have ever been here, but they walk in like it's their house and I'm the intruder.

"Uh, hi," I say slowly, turning down the TV that plays its now fourth straight hour of America's Next Top Model. Just when I think I've had enough body shaming to last me a lifetime, I choose to be a victim of Tyra Banks and her internalized hatred of women over a size two. "What's up?"

Stella plops down beside me on the couch while Holly excitedly drops a couple of large shopping bags down on the chair across from me. More confusion litters my expression that I can't seem to conceal.

"So," Holly claps her hands together. "I ordered some underwear from Victoria's Secret last week and they sent me a ton of size smalls. But luckily, they also sent me the mediums I ordered. So instead of returning them, I figured I'd give them to you!"

I lean forward, suddenly becoming interested. After all, I did ask my mom for some new underwear to maybe make me feel a little bit more grown up, but she disappointed me with those weekly ones from Sears.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

She nods, handing me the bag with what I assume is underwear. "Of course. They were, like, practically free."

I look inside. I'm much happier with the contents of this bag than I was with the one my mom got for me. I see black, white, and pink lace and strings and bows. They're all so pretty and girly.

"Thanks, Holly," I look up at her like she just saved my entire life. "This is so nice."

"It got me thinking, though. My little sister is going through this, like, rebrand or whatever she wants to call it," she rolls her eyes. I watch her start to shuffle through the other few bags on the couch. I lean forward a little more. "She hears one Avril Lavigne song, and she thinks she's punk or something."

I shrug my shoulders. "I like Avril Lavigne."

Stella scoffs and rolls her eyes. I'm sure it's not at my taste in music, but more so that I'm likely missing the point of Holly's words.

Nicolette Burns is Holly's little sister. She's a year younger than Holly, but a year older than me. I don't know much about her other than she's the spitting image of Holly, which might explain her so-called rebrand. Maybe she wants to be her own person.

"She was going to get rid of all this stuff that's, like, practically new. Jeans, shirts, dresses, you name it. And instead of just donating it, I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to look through it?" she offers. Her voice sounds gentle and unsure, like she's worried I'll take offense to this.

But I don't. Actually, I appreciate it a lot. It's hard not having an older sister or any girlfriends. I don't have anyone to tell me whether or not my clothes look good, which makes me feel out of touch sometimes. Not only that, but I spend most of my free time with sixteen year old boys who think the less clothes, the better.