through Union Square daily for the shopping and world-famous cable cars. Today was no different. The corner of Powell and Sutter bustled with business men and women and tourists toting cameras over their shoulders. But not a wing in sight.
My heart slowed to a normal pace, and a relaxed smile crept across my face. I could do this. I was stronger than the madness. I grabbed my backpack, hoisting it over my shoulder. “You know, Lee, I think today might just be a good day.”
Chapter Two
“A good day, huh?” Lee meticulously wrapped up his ear buds, wiped down his phone’s screen, and tucked them into a cloth-lined case. “I did just beat my high score in Die, Zombie, Die! So you could be on to something.”
Dr. G always told me to celebrate the small victories, and Mom had taught me to dance like no one’s watching. My happy dance—a wiggle to the right, then two bounces left—caught him off guard. He snorted a laugh.
I let Lee’s smile infect me and grinned back at him. It felt good, until I caught my warped reflection in the metal napkin holder. What a sorry excuse for a smile. My eyes showed a bit too much white, my lips a fraction too wide to pass as normal.
Tightness crawled up my throat, and my smile died a quick death. I looked over my shoulder, surprised that no one was staring at the crazy girl. Just to be sure, I checked over the other. I took a deep breath, smoothing the end of my ponytail down, the way my mother had when I was little.
Normal. Be normal and everything will be fine. Today will be a great day.
Lee checked his watch. It was his father’s watch and hung so loose on his wrist I was constantly worried he’d lose it. His smile faded. “Oh, Tardis!” Despite the morning I’d had so far, my lips twitched into a smile—a genuine one, this time, and a side-effect of having a best friend whose curses consisted of Dr. Who references. “We’re gonna be late for school!”
“Not today. Today is going to be a good day.” The zippers on my backpack clinked together as I yanked the heavy bag out of the booth and shrugged it over my shoulder. Dad would never agree to let me work if just the interview made me late for school. Then again, if Dad had his way, I’d be homeschooled and never allowed outside.
Lee and I bolted from our booth and out the door, the diner doorbell chiming as we left. A fall wind whipped around me, lashing the ends of my hair across my cheeks. I pulled my jacket’s faux-fur hood over my rumpled tresses and glared enviously at Lee’s spiky, over-styled hair. It never so much as quivered as we dashed across the street in defiance of the yellow traffic light—a dangerous feat in this city thanks to the crazy drivers and bicyclists.
We passed one of those Halloween superstores halfway down Powell Street, and I knew what Lee meant to say before he opened his mouth.
“I almost forgot; the Halloween Dance posters went up yesterday. We’re still going, right?” He popped a piece of peppermint candy he’d swiped from the diner into his mouth.
When Lee and I first met, I was so excited to have a friend—one I could make future plans with beyond stringing bead bracelets in Arts and Crafts hour before the meds wore off—that I had jumped at the idea of a school dance. Now that the dance was a few short weeks away, I was having second thoughts. And third and fourth ones.
One look at how excited Lee was, and I knew I’d try. For him.
“Are you sure you can keep up with this ?” We stopped at a streetlight and I busted out another happy dance, just to hear him snort again.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but when you dance ,” he threw up air quotes, “you disgrace dancers everywhere.” The light changed, and we maneuvered through the dense traffic still crowding the crosswalk.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “Do my awesome dance moves embarrass you? Or maybe they secretly make you feel inadequate?”
Truth is, that really was my only dance
My heart slowed to a normal pace, and a relaxed smile crept across my face. I could do this. I was stronger than the madness. I grabbed my backpack, hoisting it over my shoulder. “You know, Lee, I think today might just be a good day.”
Chapter Two
“A good day, huh?” Lee meticulously wrapped up his ear buds, wiped down his phone’s screen, and tucked them into a cloth-lined case. “I did just beat my high score in Die, Zombie, Die! So you could be on to something.”
Dr. G always told me to celebrate the small victories, and Mom had taught me to dance like no one’s watching. My happy dance—a wiggle to the right, then two bounces left—caught him off guard. He snorted a laugh.
I let Lee’s smile infect me and grinned back at him. It felt good, until I caught my warped reflection in the metal napkin holder. What a sorry excuse for a smile. My eyes showed a bit too much white, my lips a fraction too wide to pass as normal.
Tightness crawled up my throat, and my smile died a quick death. I looked over my shoulder, surprised that no one was staring at the crazy girl. Just to be sure, I checked over the other. I took a deep breath, smoothing the end of my ponytail down, the way my mother had when I was little.
Normal. Be normal and everything will be fine. Today will be a great day.
Lee checked his watch. It was his father’s watch and hung so loose on his wrist I was constantly worried he’d lose it. His smile faded. “Oh, Tardis!” Despite the morning I’d had so far, my lips twitched into a smile—a genuine one, this time, and a side-effect of having a best friend whose curses consisted of Dr. Who references. “We’re gonna be late for school!”
“Not today. Today is going to be a good day.” The zippers on my backpack clinked together as I yanked the heavy bag out of the booth and shrugged it over my shoulder. Dad would never agree to let me work if just the interview made me late for school. Then again, if Dad had his way, I’d be homeschooled and never allowed outside.
Lee and I bolted from our booth and out the door, the diner doorbell chiming as we left. A fall wind whipped around me, lashing the ends of my hair across my cheeks. I pulled my jacket’s faux-fur hood over my rumpled tresses and glared enviously at Lee’s spiky, over-styled hair. It never so much as quivered as we dashed across the street in defiance of the yellow traffic light—a dangerous feat in this city thanks to the crazy drivers and bicyclists.
We passed one of those Halloween superstores halfway down Powell Street, and I knew what Lee meant to say before he opened his mouth.
“I almost forgot; the Halloween Dance posters went up yesterday. We’re still going, right?” He popped a piece of peppermint candy he’d swiped from the diner into his mouth.
When Lee and I first met, I was so excited to have a friend—one I could make future plans with beyond stringing bead bracelets in Arts and Crafts hour before the meds wore off—that I had jumped at the idea of a school dance. Now that the dance was a few short weeks away, I was having second thoughts. And third and fourth ones.
One look at how excited Lee was, and I knew I’d try. For him.
“Are you sure you can keep up with this ?” We stopped at a streetlight and I busted out another happy dance, just to hear him snort again.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but when you dance ,” he threw up air quotes, “you disgrace dancers everywhere.” The light changed, and we maneuvered through the dense traffic still crowding the crosswalk.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “Do my awesome dance moves embarrass you? Or maybe they secretly make you feel inadequate?”
Truth is, that really was my only dance
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