I'm not pretty.

three

What's your story, morning glory?

I room with Louisa. Louisa is older and her hair is like a red and gold ocean down her back. There's so much of it, she can't even keep it in braids, buns or hair ties if she tried. 

Her hair smells like strawberries. She smells better then any girl I've ever known. I could breathe her in forever.

My first night here, when she lifted her blouse to change for bed, in that moment before her golden ocean covered her back like a protective cape, I saw them, all of them, and I sucked my breath in hard.

She said, "Don't be scared, little one."

I wasn't scared, I had just never seen a girl with skin like mine before.