I don’t remember the painting. But I remember the colors clearly.
The happiness made the apartment swim in spun-gold threads. The pure joy that only comes from moments like these.
Those are the moments I hold on to when I go to Braxton.
The world may be gray for me, but in Braxton even that gray is dulled. The people are nearly translucent when I look at them. Fear curdles in my heart when I think of the whole world becoming translucent. That one day I’ll wake up, and I won’t be able to see anyone. The gray turning into an infinite white blank of nothing.
Stares follow me throughout the school, and I want nothing more than to fast-forward to when they stop. I know they will. It’ll just take time. But Alexis’s friends are bothered.
“It’s just you’re newandyou’re not wearing the right uniform,” Alexis tells me Thursday morning, brow furrowed as she looks around the classroom while we wait on the teacher.
“Maybe it’s better if you wear a cap?” Jenny asks. “It would still hide your hair, right? Less attention that way.”
I press my hands over my lap, nails digging into my knees. They’ve somewhat forgiven me for what happened on Monday, but I can see the tension around their eyes and mouths. I want them to like me. It’s safer that way. The fox won’t hunt within the pack.
“I need to cover my neck as well.” I’m keenly aware of the heaviness of my hijab. It’s the same one I’ve been wearing all week but I tried styling it differently, with the long end wrapped around my neck twice.
“Okay,” she says slowly, and exchanges glances with Hayley they think I can’t see. Or understand.
Why is everything with her a no?
I don’t know. She’s weird.
They get tired of me and have their own conversation, and it’s obvious they’re pretending I’m not sitting next to them.
I take as many of my own notes as possible. I’m thinking oforganizing them neatly and sending them Jamie’s way as a thank-you. He might have missed a thing or two.
I shake my head, forcing myself to focus.
When class ends, I follow Alexis and her friends, feeling like I’m walking outside my skin. Any minute now they’re going to demand I leave them alone. And Alexis wouldn’t be able to say anything when it’s three to one.
“Alexis!” a voice calls, and we stop, glancing back.
It’s like we’re in a high school movie because Alexis turns around in slow motion, an excited smile on her lips when she sees the floppy-haired boy from lunch on Monday.
“Mason!” she breathes out, and suddenly, she’s someone I don’t know. She tucks her hair behind her ear, batting her eyelashes up at Mason, who takes it all in like it’s the highlight of his day.
Up close, I admit they look cute together, and another pang rattles in my chest, wishing she didn’t see me as too broken to share this with.
It doesn’t matter, I tell myself.She doesn’t owe you every single moment in her life.
“Any lunch plans?” His hands are in his pockets as he rocks back and forth on his heels. “I know of this wonderful place in this building.”
She taps her forehead, frowning. “I’ve heard of it. Is it the dining hall?”
“Heard we’re having some sort of pot roast. Would you join me?”
She presses her lips together, the dimple in her left cheek deepening, a thing she does when she’s incredibly ecstatic.
“I’d like that,” she says in a measured voice, and I want to applaud her for sounding collected when I can tell she wants to scream. “Can my friends join us?”
He glances at us, confused, like he didn’t see us standing there before.
“S-sure,” he says, eyes sweeping over and staying a bit too long on me. “I don’t think we’ve met before,” he says with a forced ease. “You’re the new girl? The jihadist girl?”
“Mason!” Alexis gasps, hitting him on the shoulder. “That’snother name.”
There’s cement in my mouth, so I let Alexis do the talking for me. Beside me, one of the girls snorts a laugh before disguising it as a cough.
