I took extra time to make my hair look nice. I found light pink lipstick and blush in an old box of random things I had tried to preserve of my mother’s. I painted my face with her cheap shit. I cursed her in the mirror. I studied my big brown eyes, so like hers, and wondered if I would fail at life the way she had. I put on the flowered dress she had bought at a resale shop over two years ago, just before she left. She called it my “church” dress, even though there was no sign of god in any of our lives. It finally fit me right. I had breasts, albeit small ones, but enough to fill it out. I had secretly started shaving my legs with my dad’s razor, so when I looked in the mirror that day, I saw no sign of the little girl I once was. I would end my nightmare right there because I knew Brian would fall in love with me the moment he saw me. I was convinced. He would marry me and take me all over the world on tour with him. We would buy a house for Jax and Leila to live in, and we would visit them all the time. We would be rich and everything would be fine. My nightmare would be over because I would become a Fisher and leave this hell behind.
My father was in the bathroom when I snuck out the side door. Jax was sitting on the fence in my front yard.
I strutted up to him. “Is your mom home?”
Jax wrinkled his nose. “Why are you dressed like that, and why do you have that stuff on your face?”
I shrugged. “None of your business. What are you doing over here?”
“Forget it. You’re clearly still in a bad mood.” He picked something up off the ground and started to walk away.
“Wait. What is that?”
“Nothing!”
“Come here, hold on,” I pleaded.
He turned around abruptly and held up a package wrapped in brown paper. “It’s for you, for your birthday.”
“I’m sorry, Jax. I didn’t know.”
“Whatever. You should be nicer to me.” He handed the present over but kept his eyes glued to the ground as he mumbled, “Happy Birthday, Em.”
With my index finger under his chin, I forced him to look at me. I smiled and he smiled back. “Jackson Fisher, how’d you get so great?”
“I thought I was the most obnoxious boy in the world? That’s what you told me last week.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m a woman now, Jax. I have emotions, okay? You’re not obnoxious today.” I unwrapped the package to reveal a hardcover edition of Anne of Green Gables, my favorite book of all time. “Today, you’re freaking awesome.” I hugged him quickly and awkwardly. “Where did you get this?”
“I won it in the book fair drawing at school.”
“And you’re giving it to me?”
“I want you to have it.”
“Thank you.” I ran my hand over the cover and thought idly that it was the only gift I had been given in over a year, aside from hotel soap and cheeseburgers.
“What’s the bag for?”
“I was gonna see if I could stay with you guys for a while.”
“Oh . . . okay,” he said. “Let’s go talk to my mom.”
“Is Brian home?” I asked.
“His car is here. He’s probably in his room. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. Let’s go talk to your mom.” We went into the house, and I set my bag down in their kitchen and followed Jax down the hall. Brian’s door was cracked, so I pushed it open gently, hoping it would look like an accident. I wanted Brian to see me, but his room was empty. Walking behind Jax, I said, “Your brother’s not in there.”
He backed up and peeked in. “Bri!” he yelled. No answer.
“Keep it down!” Leila yelled from her bedroom.
“I don’t know where he is,” Jax said.
We went to Leila’s room, where she was curled up on her side at the foot of the bed.
I stood behind Jackson. “You okay, Mom?”
“Fine,” she said groggily.
“Can Em stay here for a while? Her dad’s being kind of a jerk.”
I hadn’t even told him that, but he knew.
Leila squinted and then sat up and glared at me. “You’re twelve years old.”
“Thirteen,” Jax answered for me.
“You can stay here today. Eat what you want, but you have to go home tonight. You’ll get over it with your dad,” she said, before lying back down.
“Okay, thank you.” It would be good enough for now.
We left her room. “Let’s find your brother. Maybe he can teach us how to play the guitar.”
“I know how to play a little, Em,” Jax said in a clipped tone. I followed him into Brian’s room, but the guitar was gone. “It’s not in here. He’s probably down at the river with his girlfriend.”
I tried not to think about Brian’s girlfriend as a rule. “Blah,” I said out loud.
“Let’s go play outside,” Jax said. “I mean . . . hang out,” he corrected himself.
“’Kay.”
We meandered our way toward the river, mostly silent until we got to the shore. Neither of us was in a particularly playful mood.
“Hey, there’s your brother’s guitar,” I said, pointing to his acoustic guitar lying on the ground. My heart raced with the anticipation of seeing Brian.
We walked toward it, and I noticed Jackson stiffen up. “Bri!” he yelled. “Where the fuck is he? he mumbled. “Brian!” he yelled again.