Sydney
Well, so much for trying to blend in and trying to be like the girls at school, all while hoping Tyler Sinclair would like me.
Maeve and I had stopped by a café after school, and she bought me one of those fancy lattes Dad never really let me have.
“And Kate went straight into the water and didn’t come up for like two minutes,” she said, waving her hands around.
“I swear I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life in jail.
Jails don’t have my petal face wash!”
I’d tried to laugh under my breath, but I failed hopelessly as she kept going on and on about pushing someone into the pool during swim practice.
For a little while, it helped.
But when I dragged myself up the stairs to my room later, as the sun slowly dipped outside, the entire day came crashing back down on me.
From the whispers to the napkins to Dean at the cafeteria, to Tyler laughing at it all.
Why do kids have to be so mean?
I threw my bag to the side of the room and dropped onto my bed, my eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Just a few more months, Sydney, and you don’t have to see any of them again.
Not Dean, not Micheal, not Tyler.
God, Tyler.
I rolled to my side, my stupid brain replaying his laughter from the cafeteria.
I hated the way I still noticed little things about him even though he’s been the meanest to me.
That stupid way his hair brushed against his temple when he talked, those stupid bunny teeth I sometimes imagined plucking out.
Even the way his muscles flexed when he bounced a basketball in the hallway.
He was so hard to hate, yet a part of me did, while the other part wished he was less of an idiot.
Then maybe he’d notice how hard I’m trying to be like the other girls at school.
If Maeve knew I had this huge crush on him, she’d scream her lungs out and probably spank me until I lost weight.
And Brooklyn?
Her girls would laugh their heads off.
I don’t stand a chance.
The thought made my chest tighten.
“Oh my God, my birthday this year is going to be the best.
I’ll make sure of it.”
”And I’ll be here to help!”
”Of course you will.”
My eyes flicked to the door like it could see through it and make out the voices across the hallway.
“I’m going to make sure it’s grand enough that social media screams.”
That was definitely Brooklyn.
I mean, I am the best and only choice.”
Yep, that was Tracy.
“Hmm… I’ll think about it,” Brooklyn replied.
“But before then, we have to make sure everything’s ready before next weekend.
My mom will fund it, but she won’t be around as usual.”
Brooklyn’s birthday was in a week.
But ever since I got to Lakeview, the preparations started a week before.
But this time it seems they were planning to throw a party for the first time.
I tried not to listen.
I even turned to my journal and flipped it open, staring at some writing I’d done a week ago.
But the voices kept drifting through the wall.
“Are you going to use your house?” Tracy asked.
“Er, yeah,” Brooklyn said.
“It’s big enough.”
The pause that followed was strange—long and suspicious.
I should have stopped listening right then.
Maybe shoved in earplugs like Maeve once suggested.
But I didn’t.
There was a soft thud.
“What’s that look on your face?” Brooklyn asked.
Tracy hesitated.
“Just, you know…wondering…”
”Wondering what?”
”If your sister would be there.”
My heart dropped.
I didn’t even know when I sat up on the bed.
She didn’t even have to explain herself because of course, everyone thought I was a buzzkill.
The fat girl who tries too hard, yet bad luck follows her like a scent.
“I mean, if you want your birthday party to be on everyone’s lips, we have to make it something good.
Not some marshmello…”
Marshmello?
“Sydney’s not going to crash the party, alright?” Brooklyn said quickly, her voice suddenly serious.
I mean, she lives here too.
I can’t exactly send her out of the house.”
She paused.
I held my breath without realizing.
Then Tracy huffed lightly.
“Well, yeah, but you know what I mean.”
My fingers tightened around my journal.
“No offence.” Tracy quickly said, as if trying to save herself.
“It’s just that, what if she draws attention to herself by tripping on her feet or something?”
By tripping on her feet.
Because to Tracy, I was too fat to see my own feet.
I shut my eyes briefly.
‘Don’t cry, Sydney.
You’re not even supposed to be listening.’
Then Brooklyn sighed, the sound faint through the wall.
“She’ll probably stay in her room.” She said, “She always does.”
The words landed heavier than I expected, and I half shuddered, reading the tone in Brooklyn’s voice.
She wasn’t really inviting me.
It was more like.
“She can come if she wants to.
I can’t stop her, anyway.”
Like I was something she couldn’t get rid of, but wanted to.
“Okay, good.” Tracy’s voice brightened.
“Because if Tyler and the guys come and Micheal’s bringing half the team, we need the vibe to be perfect.”
My stomach tightened at the thought.
The guys were going to be in this house, Micheal, Tyler, drinks, people, loud music…
My heart skipped.
A door creaked, then clicked shut, and the sound of muffled laughter filled the hallway.
I slowly sank back onto my bed.
It was useless trying to be one of them.
None of them wanted me around because I’m the less attractive sister, the one who came out of nowhere, the buzzkill, the girl who tripped over her feet.
Cindy.
I pulled my blanket over my head, like that could hide me from the world outside my door.
Like if I stayed quiet enough, small enough, nobody would remember I existed.
I wish I wasn’t fat!