Page 7 of Tiny Fractures

“There’ll be plenty opportunity to experience Shane’s parties,” Tori laughs. “He has them a lot.”

Great. Apparently, I have a radar for people who are part of the in-crowd, are jocks, or who have friends who are jocks and throw parties. So much for getting away from my past. Just perfect.

Saturday, May 1st

Cat

“Alright, let me see what you got on. Legs!” Vada says, strolling into my bedroom at just before six this evening.

I spin around, startled. “How did you get in?” I ask, holding my hand over my frantic heart.

“Umm, your mom let me in,” Vada tells me with an eye roll.

Tonight is Steve’s eighteenth birthday party, which Tori’s boyfriend Shane is throwing at his mom’s beach house. And even though I was reluctant at first, I finally agreed to join my new friends. This will be the first party I’ve agreed to attend in months.

It took quite a bit of begging, whining, and convincing by Vada and Tori—mostly Vada—and nightly talks and reassurance by my mom to see beyond my past and trust myself and others enough to give in to Vada. She was adamant that I couldn’t miss Steve’s birthday bash.

What ultimately convinced me, though, was when Vada and Tori assured me this “party” would actually be a relaxed get-together. “Nothing crazy,” Tori promised. Plus, I’ve enjoyed nothing more than hanging out with my new friends these past few weeks. There’s no pressure, fairly little drama, and most everyone has been warm and welcoming.

From the second I met Vada, I knew she was one of the most extroverted people I’ve ever met. She has no problem making friends, and thank goodness for that. I’ll forever be grateful that she immediately started chatting with me during physics and diverted the class’s attention from me—the newcomer whose only wish was to remain invisible—to herself. Since meeting her, Vada has so naturally inserted herself into my life that I already don’t know what I would do without her.

We hit it off and have been hanging out quite a bit. Aside from Tori and her brother, Zack, Vada has been slowly introducing me to her other close friends. There’s Vada’s boyfriend, Steve, whom I had the pleasure of meeting a few days after moving to New York. Steve is tall, with light-brown hair and cinnamon-brown eyes. You can tell that he, and most of the other guys in this group of friends, are athletes just by the way they’re built—lean and muscular, the result of almost daily conditioning and training. I knew from Vada, even before meeting Steve, that he’s on the high school hockey team. Well, was on the hockey team, I guess. Steve, along with Shane—Tori’s boyfriend and another member of this tight-knit group—is about to graduate from high school.

Then there’s Vada’s twin brother, Zack. It’s fascinating to see the two of them together: Zack really is Vada but in male form. He’s taller than Vada but has the same shade of bronze-brown hair and brown eyes.

I quickly learned that Zack isn’t an athlete, but he considers himself the documentarian of the group. He wasn’t exaggerating when he told me he’s always filming; he has either his cell phone or his GoPro running and documenting every part of life. When I asked him about it, he dove into his ambitions to attend school in California and ultimately direct movies. So, he explained, he’s been vigilantly documenting and filming life with his friends.

I was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of Zack capturing my every move. Having pictures and videos taken of me didn’t used to be an issue. It used to be fun, actually, until it wasn’t anymore, and having a camera in my face all the time has taken some getting used to. But Zack is so nonintrusive about it, and the others assured me that soon I wouldn’t even notice the camera anymore. They were right; after only a few weeks I don’t even notice Zack’s filming any longer.

“Can you please not call me ‘Legs?’” I plead with Vada. “It makes me feel… freakish.”

Vada laughs. “You’re not a freak. You’re gorgeous. I’d kill to look like you.”

I blush violently. People call me beautiful. I have long legs and long, wavy blonde hair that, if left to its own devices, will quickly turn against me. At five feet nine inches, I’m fairly tall. Honestly, I consider myself kind of lanky.

Vada, on the other hand, is a bombshell. Though six inches shorter than me, she has a beautiful body and perfect curves. Her gorgeous brown hair, blunt-cropped at her shoulders, turns bronze when the sun hits it just right. It’s no wonder her boyfriend, Steve, is crazy about her.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Vada gives me a quick, appeasing squeeze before she meanders over to my floor-length mirror and briefly fusses with her hair.

“I like your shorts,” I nod, noting Vada’s cutoff jean shorts.

She grins. “I wore them especially for Stevie. He likes them on me.”

“I’m sure you could be wearing a paper bag and Steve would still like what you’re wearing,” I snigger, and Vada smiles. She’s crazy about Steve. The two have been dating for almost a year—which, let’s face it, is an eternity in high school. Although Vada recently confided in me that she has no clue what will happen once Steve leaves to attend college in Boston this fall. Vada, on the other hand, has another year of high school ahead, which means either trying to weather a long-distance relationship or ending it amicably before hearts can get broken.

“And what are you wearing tonight?” Vada asks, taking a quick, disapproving glance at my faded jeans and baby blue t-shirt that flows over my torso and accentuates my humble curves.

I’m most comfortable in just jeans, a soft shirt, and my Converse. I don’t really care about the latest fashions or hairstyles. In fact, ever since I moved away from North Carolina I try hard not to stand out or draw attention to myself. That’s precisely what I wanted to get away from in the first place.

“Uh, this right here?” I say, looking down at myself.

Vada frowns. “Okay, so nothing different than what you usually wear to school. Got it,” she says with mock exacerbation.

“Yep. What’s wrong with it?”

“Cat, you are so beautiful. Seriously, so, so beautiful! Why do you feel like you need to hide?” she asks, scanning my body top to bottom.

“I’m not hiding. I just enjoy wearing this. It’s comfy,” I say, and Vada smiles. “By the way,” I add, “I got my mom to extend my curfew to midnight tonight.”

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