“What was she like?” I asked.
“I forgot how funny that was.”
Madison smiled like I’d handed her a gift.
“Oh, it was tragic. Braces, frizz, always red in the face. You barely had to say anything, and she’d panic.”
Ashley looked down. “We were awful.”
Madison rolled her eyes. “It was high school. Everybody got teased.”
“Not everybody went home crying,” I said.
The table went quiet.
Madison narrowed her eyes. “Did you know her?”
“We were awful.”
I smiled, but my chest ached.
“Better than you did. Excuse me. I need the bathroom before the show.”
They nodded and continued speaking to each other.
***
I made it to the restroom before my hands started shaking.
I called Mom from the sink.
“They don’t know it’s me,” I whispered.
“I need the bathroom before the show.”
Mom went quiet. “Well, that tells me they never really saw you.”
“Madison sent in a video. They were laughing about it.”
“Oh, Eva.”
“I want to leave.”
“Then leave.”
I swallowed. “Really?”
“You don’t owe them anything.”
“I want to leave.”
I looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing the red dress, my eyes were wet, and my mouth was shaking.
Then Mom said, “But you don’t have to run either.”
I pulled the cardigan from my bag.
Mom saw it and said, “Put it on if you want to. Just make sure it’s a choice, not armor.”
I held it for a second.
Then I folded it and left it on the counter.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
