Page 58 of People Like Us

Her shoulders sagged. She led me down the narrow corridor, the carpet soft underfoot, until she reached a door plastered with glittery animal stickers—tiny giraffes and zebras that caught the light. “These are from when I was little,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing.

“Cute,” I said, following her through the doorway. A faint smell of fabric softener drifted out. Inside, the walls were painted robin’s-egg blue. A white wooden bed stood against one wall, its duvet covered in pastel butterflies. A giant purple beanbag chair slumped in the corner, its plush cover slightly faded. It looked lived-in—clothes draped over the dresser, a half-open jewelry box, headphones tangled in a messy knot.

She stood at the foot of the bed, arms wrapped around her ribs, as I walked around, fingertips grazing the smooth surface of her dresser. Random tubes of makeup lay scattered: lip gloss, mascara, a broken eyeshadow palette. Too much makeup for a girl I’d never seen wear any. I picked up a bottle of pale pink nail polish and held it up to her reflection in the oval mirror. “You should start using this,” I said softly. “Being malnourished turns your nails yellow.”

She blinked as if I’d just handed her a winning lottery ticket. “Is that why you always have yours done?” she asked, voice small.

I shook my head without looking away from the mirror. “I don’t have an eating disorder.”

Her head tilted sideways, and for a moment she looked exactly like her brother. “August just assumes I do, because…” I trailed off, gesturing toward my boney frame.

“How do you stay so thin?” she whispered, and it sounded painful.

“My parents forget to feed me.” I shrugged and resumed rifling through her makeup, the plastic tubes cool and slick under my fingertips.

“Oh.” She swallowed, then hesitated. “What do you mean they forget?”

I didn’t look up, remaining calm as if I were describing the weather. “They’re regulars at The Grill. I’m rarely home, so they don’t buy a lot of groceries. My dad gives me money for school lunches, but I’ve been saving it for college.”

She stared at me, silence weighing between us. I picked up a stick of concealer—too warm a shade—and tapped it against my palm before holding it out. “You’ll want one with a cooler under tone to hide the yellow in your face.”

Her gaze drifted to her own reflection. I pointed to the corners of my mouth, then to the inner rims of my eyes. “Here,” I said. “And here.” My voice was gentle.

She nodded, lips pressed together.

“Ready to go back down?” I asked, turning to her.

She exhaled, a soft whoosh. “Yeah,” she breathed, still looking dazed.

“Do me a favor?” I said as we stepped into the hallway. She paused. “Don’t tell your brother what I told you.”

“I thought you had a thing about being honest.” Her eyes narrowed.

I kept my tone even. “I’m not lying to him. We just haven’t talked about it yet.”

Her brow furrowed. “Do you care about him?”

The question twisted something inside me. “More than anything,” I admitted.

“What about your boyfriend?” Her voice sharpened with sisterly protectiveness.

“I don’t care about them in the same way, Morgan.” The words felt strange on my tongue.

She nodded as if she accepted the answer, though her eyes remained wary. We walked down the stairs, each step creaking under our weight.

All the way, a dark little voice hissed in my mind: Liar. Liar. Liar.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Before I took my usual seat at the lunch table, I scanned the cafeteria for Morgan. She was standing with two other girls against the wall near the vending machines, all three of them eating out of small bags of chips. When I approached, they all went quiet, the way people do when they’re not sure if they’re in trouble.

Morgan saw me and said something to the other two, then stepped away to meet me halfway. She gripped the straps of her bookbag with both hands.

“What’s up?” she said.

“Do you want to sit with me?” I asked cheerfully.

Her eyes flickered past me toward the table where Emily and Lindsey were already setting down their trays. “Like…with the Barbies?”