“What’s for dessert?” I ask as Mom jumps up.
“I didn’t make anything, sweetie.”
Before I can complain about the lack of sugar, she opens the door and Maddy steps inside.
“Thanks, Mrs.Watkins. Hey, Sera!” She sweeps in and pulls me up out of my chair before I can ask why she’s knocking at the door like a weirdo instead of just coming in like usual.
“I’m here on official fairy god…friend duties,” she says, pushing me toward the stairs. “I’ve been instructed to kidnap you for the evening. Let’s go.” She nudges me up the first step.
“What?” I protest, and she keeps pushing.
“God, you’re slow! Let’sgo. You’re putting on that yellow dress and we’ll brush your hair, then you’re coming with me.”
“What’s going on?” I look back at my parents, who are giggling at the table. I know it must be something with Luke if Maddy is set on me wearing the dress, but Mom just shrugs and Dad waves, clearly in on whatever is happening.
In my room, Maddy digs out the dress and makes me put it on.
“Wow, it looks better than it did before. Okay, spin, spin.”
I do, to please her, and find it doesn’t make me dizzy, so I do it again.
“Okay, you have to tell me what’s up, Maddy—please?”
“Nope, Luke swore me to secrecy, and that’s all you need to know!” She digs around on my vanity, looking through jewelry. She selects a dangly pair of earrings Abbi got me that I never wear, and demands I take off the art teacher necklace. Then she slips an unfamiliar oval locket around my neck. I crack it open. There’s a tiny picture of my family on one side and one of me, Maddy, and Luke on the other.
“That’s from me,” Maddy states, “just so we’re clear.”
I hug her. “I’ll take it to my grave,” I say, dead serious.
“That’s the point,” she says, a tiny wobble in her voice before she lets me go. “Okay, let’s see: dress, jewelry, now hair…let’s just brush it out, leave it long. Or, wait…can I give you bangs?”
“Ummm…”
She pulls out haircutting scissors.
“Do you just carry those around?” I ask as she sits me down in front of the mirror.
“How else do you think I keep my hair so fresh?” She tousles her bobbed hair, which has remained very sleek for the whole summer, now that I think about it.
She goes to the bathroom and comes back with a wet towel, dampens the front of my hair, and then pauses. “Ready?”
“I trust you.” I smile, then close my eyes as she combs out the wet hair and snips. I feel the strands falling into my lap and try not to panic.
“Okay, wait, I just need to…” She snips a little more, and I hear the sound of my blow-dryer being dug out, and after some drying and last snips, she finally tells me I can open my eyes.
“Wow.” I’m grateful I trusted her. The bangs are more subtlethan it sounded like they were going to be, soft and light, and they make me look a little older. I play with them a bit and then laugh. “Thanks, Mads.”
“Perfect, I know. You don’t need to tell me. Time to go!”
She tells me to get a light sweater and meet her downstairs. I hear her whispering with my parents as I find my bag and some shoes as well as a sweater and take a last look at myself in the mirror.
I give us a minute. Me and my reflection. To remind us that we’re here, alive. I turn my wrists and look at the thin, pulsing veins in my forearms. I pinch my cheeks lightly until they’re a little red. My hair is a little frizzy at the ends, but the swoopy bangs are staying in place. I run a hand through them, fluffing out the sides, and everything falls back into place. My scar peeks out from behind the chain of the locket.
I try to forget the watch on my wrist tracking my every move. I push away the tiredness that seeps from the center of my back out to my limbs, which are sometimes too much to lift these days, but are feeling good tonight. I erase the diagnosis, and the list, and my unfinished binder from my mind. I focus on being a girl who’s going out to meet her boyfriend for a surprise.
I stop by the bathroom to brush my teeth and take one of Abbi’s prepared “safety bags” from the lower cabinet. It’s just an old makeup pouch with tampons, liners, and painkillers, but also condoms, lube, and single-pack wet wipes.
Once I’m downstairs, Maddy rushes me into her car and takes off, blasting some new artist rapping in French. She tells me Sienna is helping her prepare for our trip musically as well.Apparently Berlin will require clubbing. She’s immune to my piercing looks, refusing to share more details about tonight. When we hit Main Street, she turns left down the alley past the bookshop, then left again onto Harborside Main, slowing as we hit the abandoned end. She stops in front of the ghost of Frappie’s, puts the car in park, and announces that we’ve arrived. Through the dusty, dark windows of the shop, I can see the soft orange glow of flickering lights. My heart flips. I take a slow, stuttering breath.
