Page 22 of Catch the Sun

Ella

I have no good reason for being here, aside from the fact that Mom had an emotional breakdown over dinner tonight. She made a chicken casserole. It was semi-burnt and tasted like sawdust, so I thought I understood why she was crying. My eyes were watering, too, if I’m being honest.

But then she sobbed into her napkin and blurted out, “This was the last meal I cooked for him.”

My fork clattered to the kitchen table. My hands trembled. The overcooked chunks of chicken settled in the pit of my stomach like acidic bricks.

I had to get out of there.

Around 7:00 p.m. I text the phone number Brynn scribbled on my arm, having added it into my contacts before I showered the night before.

Me:Hey, it’s Ella. I’m thinking about going to that bonfire tonight, but I’m still on the fence. Convince me with three words.

Brynn:I’ll be there! :)

Me:Sold. My social skills need work, just a fair warning.

Brynn:That’s what beer is for! Need a ride?

Me:I’m not far. I’ll walk. See you soon.

Brynn:Can’t wait!

She’s an exclamation-point girl.

I edit her name in my phone contacts to “Brynn!” before throwing a hoodie over my tank top and stepping into a pair of dark-wash jeans. I study my reflection in the mirror. My hair is freshly blow-dried, falling in long, thick waves over my shoulders, and my eyes don’t look as tired and tortured as they usually do. After applying a coat of black mascara, a layer of lip gloss, and pinching my cheeks that are already stained pink with a touch of nerves, I call out a goodbye to my mother, who managed to collect herself and is watchingGrey’s Anatomyreruns in the living room.

She waves at me from the couch, her voice still hoarse. “Don’t stay out too late. I’m going to wait up for you.”

“Please don’t.”

“I can’t sleep, anyway. And I worry about you.”

I’m not sure I buy that last part, but all I do is shuffle to the front door, snagging my purse off the wall hook. “Okay. Bye.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m stalking down the grassy hill toward the bluffs where firelight flickers in the distance and laughter drowns out my anxious heartbeats. The temperature has fallen to a crisp fifty-eight degrees, so I’m grateful I grabbed my hoodie. But as I get closer to the gathering, I notice that all the other girls are wearing crop tops, spaghetti straps, and cute dresses. The intoxicated whoops and cheers of fellow classmates have me wanting to disintegrate into the grass blades or, at the very least, walk back in the opposite direction. But before I can debate my next move, Brynn! is prancing over to me.

It’s a legitimate prance. She looks like a unicorn with her high ponytail and pink-and-white sundress, swooping in to carry me away to her storybook world of wonders.

Also known as this shitty bonfire with a bunch of idiots I don’t like.

“Ella!”

I freeze in place. I’m the deer in headlights to her majestic unicorn. “Hey.”

“You made it! I didn’t think you’d show.” She slides her arm through mine, infecting me with glitter and watermelon-scented body mist. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

I allow her to pull me forward, my feet stumbling to keep up with herprancing. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows who I am. And they’d rather they didn’t.”

“Don’t be such a Debbie Downer.”

“Okay.” I try again. “I’m a sparkling spitfire with an ungodly knack for adventure and fun.”

“That’s the spirit!”

We make our way to a circle of wooden benches around the firepit as tendrils of smoke obscure the horrified expressions I’m certain are staring back at me. The laughter dies down instantly.

I murdered the fun.

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