"Hey, bud. How was your day?" Dad's voice is groggy as he shifts somewhere in the living room.
I stop in my tracks, one hand on the door handle, halfway into the house. He isn't supposed to be home yet. There's no way I can handle him right now. I don't even want to go to that dumb ass party but now I have to.
Lottie squeezes past me to rush upstairs, leaving me to face our dad on my own. Traitor.
I consider just ignoring him and walking upstairs. Our relationship has been strained since the accident, and him asking me how my day went is odd. Nice, but odd. Plus, it isn't like I have much to say to him. I knew the first day wouldn't be a great one, but Dad and Ma need to hear something else. They need to think it's getting better. Even if it I knew the first day wouldn't be a great one, but Dad and Ma need to hear something else. They need to think it's getting better. Even if it isn't.
"Hi. Not good, but not bad either." I cross the dining room and sit down on the couch beside him. All day, all I got were pitiful reassurances and how much I'm loved. It gets tiring. Not to mention the panic attack. That was especially draining.
No one really knows what it's like to be me. None of them really care. They just want to make themselves feel better about my situation.
Dad sighs and his arm brushes my shoulder as he leans it on the back of the couch. "If your momma asks, tell her it went fine, please. She's been worrying all day. I don't wanna make it worse on her."
I want to ignore his request. To say that she needs to get over it. Because she does. This is our life now, and if I have to get used to it, so does she. But I can't add more stress to Ma's schedule.
"Okay." I sigh as I stand up. "I've gotta get ready for a party. Travis will kill me if I don't show up."
"I'm glad you're making an effort, Tay. It's nice to see you try to move on." Dad sands up as well and hugs me. "If you think you're ready, then I won't stop you. Just try to stay away from alcohol, okay?"
But I'm not ready. I'm not moving on. I'm only going because this will be Emori's first party, and I haven't been there for her in a while. I can't leave her alone for that. Poor girl already had her high school experience ruined by years of bullying. She doesn't need to have it worsened.
I nod to my dad, though I can't promise not to have a drink or two. Then I fumble my way up the steps to my sister's room.
"Lottie," I call as I knock continuously on her bedroom door.
"What?" She yanks the door open, and I knock at empty air.
"I need your help finding something to wear to a party." I put on my best brother-needs-your-help look and hope she won't mind helping.
She claps her hands, making me jump. "I've been waiting for you to ask. Your clothing choice is absolutely deplorable at times."
I scoff and nudge her with my elbow as she pushes past me. "I didn't realize you knew big words like 'deplorable.'"
She gives my shoulder a light jab with her fist. "Shut it, you dummy." Her hand grips my arm as she pulls me toward my room. She leaves me standing by what feels like my bed as her footsteps disappear into my closet.
Lottie, as my sister, is my go-to person now when I need to wear something that actually looks good. I run my hands through my hair twice, hoping it looks okay as I wait for her to form a presentable outfit.
"Here. This should be fine." She throws something at me, and I catch it with one hand.
It doesn't really matter, anyway. I don't have anyone to impress anymore, and I doubt Emori cares how I look. Everyone else sees me the same way. A broken charity case. Someone who needs to be 'protected.'
I wait for Lottie to leave, then quickly get dressed and head outside to wait by what I hope is Emori's car. I run my hand through my hair anxiously.
I'm a few minutes early, and even though I could walk up to Emori's house, I don't want to. I haven't been in that house in years. I'll probably just trip over something, anyway.
"Hey," she calls as she steps outside, the wood on her porch echoing her steps. Her keys jingle in her hand as she makes her way over to me. "Ready to go?"
I nod. The sooner we get to the party, the less my nerves will skyrocket. Lottie drives me to and from school, so other than her, I haven't been in a vehicle with anyone else since my parents drove me home from the hospital. This will be a huge change, but I trust Emori.
"So, what are parties usually like?" Emori asks after we climb into her car and begins driving.
I shrug. "Nothin' special. People hang out and drink. Some people like to play games. Others start drama." I always took parties for granted. Used to find them fun, even. But now that I think about it, there isn't anything special about them. We used them to celebrate victories, to cheer ourselves up after losses, or just to have something to do. They're just a way to pass time before school starts up again on Monday.
"I guess they make parties sound more amazing than they are."
"They try."
I've never seen Emori at parties, and I know she's never been to one. Never thought she was the type. I'm still not sure she is. But she's trying to break out of her shell, and I can give her credit for that. She just doesn't need to get mixed up with the popular crowd. It's not meant for someone as pure as her. One moment you're at the top of the food chain, and the next, you're on your ass at the bottom, wondering what happened. The second something goes wrong, you're either less popular or more popular in the wrong ways. That's not a good place for Emori.
I'd give anything to see her smile again. Whenever she smiles, it's like there's not a care in the world. But that smile only existed in elementary school, back when no one cared about popularity. All other times it was clouded by insecurity and timidity or forced, to show she was happy even though her eyes said something different.
"I don't like the attention, you know," Emori said, startling me.
"What?"
"I always thought being popular and pretty would be amazing. But... after today, I'm not sure that's the best thing for me." Something clicks against the steering wheel, and I assume it's her nails. She always loved getting her nails done. "I wanted revenge. Revenge on everyone who'd insulted me or made a joke about me. But now I'm not so sure."
Revenge? Revenge was what made her do this? It makes sense, but I wish that wasn't the case. Words are powerful, and she knows that better than anyone. Words are powerful enough to make a girl who seemed so at peace with herself bust her ass to achieve the body society makes her think she needs to have. The determination and commitment that kind of action takes is more than I thought was possible.
"And Travis. Man, I can see how he gets into so many girls' pants. He acts like he's oh-so-nice, but he treated me like crap for years." She sighs and the tapping stops. Silence settles in the air for a bit until she sighs. "That's not entirely fair. I should have expected that when I made the decision to lose weight."
"But you shouldn't have had to. Just because someone weighs a lot doesn't mean they're not beautiful."
She doesn't respond. I'm not sure she's even paying attention to what I'm saying anymore. Maybe it's the fact that I'm the only person who's ever listened to her. Falling into the routine is a habit. One that I enjoy.
"Thank you," I say before I can stop myself.
"For what?"
"For just... treating me like I'm the same person." Everyone else either doesn't talk to me or talked slowly as if they're afraid I'm going to yell at them.
She waits a moment before responding again. "But you are the same. The only thing that's changed about you is your eyesight. You're still the same on the inside, no matter the scars on the outside."
Her words stop me. She said the words I needed to hear but hearing them feels better than I expected. Maybe everything isn't so different, after all.