Page 6 of My Best Years

“No, I don’t,” Birdie retorts through gritted teeth. She lightly bumps her shoulder into Winnie’s. “He’s myfriend, Winnie. My best friend.”

Winnie furrows her brows in confusion.

“But you said–”

Birdie abruptly cuts her off.

“Why are you wearing long sleeves?” Birdie asks, turning her attention to me and quickly changing the subject.

She definitely thinks I’m cute.

But that’s okay, right? Because even though she’s just my friend, I think Birdie is very pretty.

“Callum?” Birdie pushes.

I look down at the black shirt I’m wearing and swallow thickly.

“I...uh,” I stall. “I was in a hurry this morning and just threw it on.”

She tilts her head, staring at me curiously.

“Well, it’s too hot to wear that,” she exhales. “You’re going to burn up.”

My heart starts to beat fast as panic sets in. Unease tightens my chest whenever someone comments about my unusual clothes.

“I’ll be fine,” I mutter, trying to stay calm even though my palms are growing damp.

“I have an extra T-shirt in my bag,” she offers. “My mom packed it for me in case I get too sweaty during recess. Why don’t you borrow it for the day?”

No.

I can’t let her see my arms right now.

I can’t let anyone see my arms.

Not today.

“No,” I rush out, shaking my head. “No. Thank you…”

“Why not?” she pushes. “It’s just a shirt.”

I can tell that she’s not going to stop, and that makes me feel like I could throw up.

“Cal–” she starts again.

“I saidno, Birdie,” I clip sharply.

Her brows shoot up in shock as if I’ve wounded her. I’ve never spoken to Birdie like that before.

“Hey!” Winnie thunders, crossing her little arms over her chest. “Don’t be mean to my sister.”

When Birdie hangs her head, it causes my heart to hurt.

“I…” I sigh. “I’m sorry, Birdie. I didn’t mean to snap at you. My dad is just really weird about my clothes, okay?”

Her eyes soften as she holds my stare. She has no idea what goes on at my house, but she can tell that something is off. Birdie always seems to know what’s happening in my head, sometimes before I do.

“Okay,” she whispers, still looking upset.

---