I canât keep getting bogged down in memories, canât deal with crying every time Iâm reminded of the past. Iâm done.
Later, when my mom gets home, I make sure she gets the message as if itâs a top story headline: âReclusive Daughter Finally Ready to Leave House, Be Sociable.â I slide off the bed, run down the stairs, and start burbling about Mikaela like Iâm five years old and just made my first friend at school. The funny thing is, I do feel that excited.
âA shopping trip? Oh, honey. Thatâs great.â Mom closes the front door behind her with a tinkle of the chimes hung on the back.
âNot only that, thereâs a vintage clothes store over in Grovetown, and Mikaela wants us to go there tomorrow,â I say all in a rush. âAnd look what she drew on my shoes!â I show them off, tilting them one way and then the other so my mother can get the full effect.
âOh, how cute ,â she says. âHow creative!â She smiles at me distractedly and hangs up her blue sweater in the front closet. Iâm a little dismayed. I could pierce my chin and my mom would just say âHow unique! How creative! I wish I were your age so I could do wild stuff like that!â It takes the appeal out of just about anything.
Swimming was one of the few things that was mine, and mine alone. Mom would come to my races whenever she could, but she always stepped back when it came to the whole swim scene, when it was me and my friends. And she knew that I was a different person thenânot just when I was in the water, but whenever I was with Cassie.
I miss swimming. But I donât want to be that person anymore.
And ⦠now I have something new thatâs mine, whether I want it or not.
âSo is it okay if I drive to Grovetown with Mikaela to-morrow?â I take off my shoes and stash them on the shoe rack in the front hall closet. Mom thinks about it for a minute while she brings a paper grocery bag into the kitchen, depositing it on the counter.
âIâm a little nervous about it,â she says, giving me a direct look. âI havenât met Mikaela yet.â
Anxiously, I clench my hands behind my back. âWell, I asked her if she wants to come over for dinner after we go shopping. You can meet her then. I hope thatâs okay. You know Iâm always careful.â I stop, press my lips together.
âOh, honey, I know youâre always careful.â She smiles. âI wish youâd asked me first, but Iâll be happy to meet your new friend. Iâve been hoping youâd invite her overâyouâve been so unhappy and you could stand to have a little fun.â
I resist the urge to cringe.
âWell, great,â I say. âThanks.â
Mom beams at me, reaches into her purse, and presses a few twenties into my hand. âJust call me when youâre leaving Grovetown, okay?â
I nod and turn back toward the stairs.
âOh, and donât forget weâre having dinner at Uncle Randall and Auntie Minaâs on Sunday.â
That sounds like a barrel of laughs. I try to muster up something enthusiastic to say, but I canât think of anything. Auntie Mina will sit there like a ghost; Uncle Randall will criticize her in between praising Number Twoâs latest achievements in the world of plastic surgery; Mom and Dad will nod and smile. And I wonât be able to leave.
Forget it. Iâm not going to worry about Sunday. I have Saturday to think about. I paste a smile on my face and trudge back upstairs. By the time Sunday rolls around, there will be a new and improved Sunny in the house. I think about the diary entry that Shiri wrote, the one about me always seeming so sure of myself. Thatâs the Sunny I want to be. Someone who can always handle things. Not someone whoâs too scared to even give her fears a name. Not someone who holds everything inside until it leaks out anyway, until
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