I WOKE to a new chat I hadn’t seen the night before. Zara had linked me to a “natural” makeup tutorial. As I walked to the bathroom and hit play on the video, part of me wanted to give up. It was thirty minutes long, and I was sure there would be plenty of hitting pause as I navigated it.
But I needed to prove my mom and Merritt wrong. Judgement or not, difficult or not, I was doing this. I was going to be the girl Beckett could fall in love with. For the better part of an hour, I struggled to follow the video and apply my own makeup. Eventually I reached a point where doing anything more would just mess it up. Plus, I needed to get to school for my tutoring session with Anna.
I hurriedly ran a straightener through my hair—no way did I have time for curls—and put on my uniform. Even though I needed to leave, I stopped by the full-length mirror and took myself in. I pouted my lips like I’d seen girls do before, zhushed my hair, and sucked in my gut like my life depended on it.
For my first solo attempt? Not bad. I still didn’t want to endure my mom’s prying questions, so I hurried downstairs, grabbed some fruit from the kitchen, and called a goodbye over my shoulder before going to the school.
I made it just in time to pick up Anna from the drop-off line. Her mom rolled down the window and smiled at me. “Looking good, Rory,” she called.
My cheeks flushed even more so than the rouge implied. “Thank you.”
Anna flew through the sliding van door and came running to me, giving me a big hug. The normalcy of it and the excitement in her greeting warmed
my heart.
When she pulled back, she looked at me, confused. “Why did you put that stuff on your face?”
I laughed and stood to walk toward the school. “It’s called makeup.” “I wear my mom’s makeup sometimes,” she said, smiling up at me. “Oh really?” I asked.
“Yes, but only when she doesn’t know.” She turned and waved to her mom, like she just remembered she was leaving.
I couldn’t help but laugh as I waved as well. As the van pulled away, we continued walking toward the library, as usual.
“Guess what I’ve been working on?” Anna said in the way that made me worry I’d have to text her mom when this was over.
“What?” I asked hesitantly, sitting with her at one of the tables in the library. The chairs were way too small for me, but none of them had broken yet. (Knock on manufactured wood.) She got her unicorn notebook out of her backpack, used the key attached to her necklace to unlock it, and then flipped open to a page with a gray ribbon down the middle. On the lined page was a drawing of a girl with a missing tooth.
“You drew yourself,” I said. “That’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She grinned at me. “Mommy said that you’re a great artist, and I wanted to start practicing too.”
My heart completely melted. “You’re already very good. Much better than I was when I was your age.”
She seemed pleased by that, but then all of her features fell. “But I probably should be working on my letters instead.”
“Nonsense,” I said, outraged for her. “Nothing says you can’t do both. You can be an artist and a student at the same time. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Seeming to understand, she nodded. “But Mommy would probably be mad if we didn’t read any books.”
I let out a laugh. “Probably. Let’s go pick them out.”
We decided to look in the section that started with the first letter of her name, and she found a book on alligators to read. It was a little too hard for her, but I had her “help” me with some of the words I knew she would be able to sound out. By the time the alarm on my watch vibrated, we’d made it through most of the book. The librarian helped us check it out so she could finish reading it at home with her parents.
With her book tucked safely into her backpack, she said, “Do I get any candy today?”
Crap.
In the rush to get out the door, I’d forgotten to get any. I racked my brain for something I could give her. “I can do you one better than candy,” I finally said, reaching into my backpack and looking through my pencil case. Inside, I found some markers, pens, and my set of watercolor pencils. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Green,” she said without hesitation.
“Perfect.” I grabbed a green one and handed it to her. “This is a special pencil that you only need to use with your mommy. I want you to draw an alligator with it. And you can add a tiny bit of water to make the color spread easier.”
Her eyes lit up. “Seriously? Like a pen?” “Seriously.”
“I’m not allowed to have them around my baby brother.” I laughed at that. I may need to text her mom after all.
She took the pencil from me like it was contraband and placed it carefully in the side pocket of her backpack. “Did you use it to put your eyeshadow on today?”
I laughed. “Something like it.”
She smiled up at me. “You look like a princess.” “I feel like one,” I answered honestly.
