“Yeah, it’s just always been me and her,” I tell her. “We’ve been in foster care since our parents died, so we’re all we’ve got, really. Especially with moving around a lot.”
“Dang, I’m sorry. That sounds like it sucks; I shouldn’t really be complaining, huh?”
“No, it’s okay. Everyone has things they wish were different about their lives, I guess.”
3
Lydia
Simone has pretty much become my shadow. Or maybe I’m hers. Either way, we move together now. We do everything together—classes, schoolwork, hanging out at her house where everything smells like laundry detergent and whatever last meal was cooked, where the floors don’t creak, the rooms aren’t dirty, and no one yells unless they’re laughing.
She lives in a neighborhood ten minutes away from me, so her family isn’t rich or anything, but they feel pretty rich—in love, in the way they talk to each other, in the way they treat everyone. It’s the kind of rich I wanna be one day.
I spend most days after school at her house now. Camilla has been working more and more shifts at her job, and when she’s not there, she’s out—parties, friends, or with her new boyfriend. He seems sweet, I guess, even if his eyes never seem to focus when he talks to you. I try not to ask too many questions, though. I don’t want to risk pushing her away. She’s been so distant lately. I don’t want to do anything that will cause her to slip too far away from me.
As much as I love my sister and wish it were just us living together, I can’t help how much easier it is to breathe when I’m at Simone’s, when I’m somewhere else, notin that house.
Simone instantly became the new popular girl at school. I mean, with a personality like hers, of course everyone is drawn to her. And somehow being her new best friend means no one messes with me anymore. It’s kind of nice. It’s not like anyone tries to be my friend, but they at least know to leave me alone now. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, and she doesn’t take shit from anyone on my behalf now, too.
Today’s her birthday, so everyone has been stuck up her ass all day. But I don’t mind. She asked me if I wanted to spend the night with her so we could celebrate, just the two of us, so it doesn’t really bother me when people take up all of her attention at school. I told her I needed to go home after to grab some clothes and a couple of things I’d need, and she said she’d just catch the bus with me back to my place, then have her mom pick us up.
In the last couple of months, we’ve only ever gone over to her house. I don’t wanna bring her to my place. I’ve always been embarrassed by where I live. But I know Simone never judges. It’s what I love most about her. As uneasy as I feel about bringing anyone around, I trust her.
When we step off the school bus and head towards my house, some guys who are standing outside whistle at us, calling us pretty, and telling us to come talk to them.
Simone is pretty tall for her age, so she looks much older than thirteen. I’m stillveryunderdeveloped in all departments, and I’ve been pretty underweight my whole life—that happens when you grow up relying on only yourself and your older sister to find any food around because your parents never kept enough in the house, and the foster homes we live in aren’t much better at providing basic needs. I wish I had curves like Simone. At thirteen, she already has boobs and a butt that all the guys at school talk about.
We ignore the creepy guysoutside, and Simone flips them off as we walk up to my house.
“You can stay out here if you want,” I tell her. “It’s always a mess in there.”
“Girl, I don’t care about that.” She pushes past me and opens the door, grabbing my hand and walking inside. “Where’s your room?”
She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t make a face, doesn’t have any reaction to the house I’m always looking at in disgust. I point down the hall to the room with no door on it, and she heads in that direction. Thankfully, Miles is in his room with the door closed and music blaring, which means we won’t have to see or talk to him. When we walk into my room, I see Alexis sitting crisscrossed on the floor, playing with some kind of sticker book in her school uniform still. Camilla is standing by the closet, rummaging through a bin. When she sees us, she quickly stands up and shoves the little bag that was in her hand into her pocket.
It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots, but I don’t say anything.
She forces a smile. “Hey, girls. How was your day?”
Simone smiles back genuinely. “It was good! Tyler brought me a little cupcake for my birthday. I think he might…like me,” she says, giggling.
She’s had a crush on Tyler since the first week she moved here, and I think he’s just as obsessed with her but won’t say it. He plays on our middle school basketball team and is pretty popular too, but he’s a lot shyer than Simone. I think that’s why she likes him. The whole opposites-attract thing might actually work for them.
Camilla walks over and hugs Simone. “Happy birthday, girl,” she whispers.
“Um, Simone wants me to spend the night with her for her birthday. Can you tell Aretha for me? Her mom is going to come pick us up. Can you get me in the morning since you’re not working?”
Camilla smiles at me. “Of course, y’all go have fun. Just be safe and call or text me from Simone’s phone if you need anything, okay?”
I nod and then hug her. She squeezes me back and kisses me on the top of my head, telling me bye.
Simone and I end up sitting outside on the curb, just talking until Simone’s mom pulls up. When we get in the car, her mom has a huge gift bag in the front seat for her.
Simone squeals. “Is this my gift?”
“Yes, baby,” her mom says. “But get in before you open it.”
We both slide into the back seat before she hands Simone the bag. When she pulls the tissue paper out, she screams in excitement. “No way!”
