Page 106 of Altius
But the shadows in her dark eyes remained.
“Why not red?” she asked, inching across the threshold.
“Hm?” My understanding was blunted by the alarm coursing through me.
“Your hair. The color. Thought you’d go for red if you ever dyed it.”
“Oh,” I said, plucking at a strand to refresh my memory if it was more plum than burgundy these days or the other wayaround. “Well… I didn’t pick it, to be honest. My stylist did. Wanted me to stand out during my fellowship, I guess.”
Afraid she’d bolt if I moved too fast, I gradually sat up straighter. “Your hair’s the one worth talking about. It’s stunning.”
“Thanks.” She took a proper step forward. “Got them done for my birthday. Took forever, but they were worth the hassle.”
“Would have thought you’d go for pink.”
“I have before, but with the holidays coming up, and…and I…” Her back went rigid, eyes fixed on the floor.
Unable to bear the weight of the creeping silence, I said, “Your birthday looked amazing. Rory must have sent me a hundred photos.”
“Yeah.” Jenna bit her bottom lip hard enough for the flesh to turn white, then spat out, “The cake. And the gift card. They were both from you. Again. Why bother?”
Her words were both declarative and questioning—why did I keep spending money on someone who couldn’t stand me?
“Milestones should be celebrated.”
“But why?” Her heated gaze lacked the spite I’d expected. If anything, she looked disillusioned. “You don’t know me. It’s always the same amount on a gift card to a craft store for my birthday. Every year. Just like you always hide a bookstore gift card in my stocking.”
Deep lines creased her forehead as she tugged at the hem of her shirt.
“And you would never have come to Tacoma in person, not even if I sent you a personalized invitation.”
“Not this year, no—because I had prior commitments.”
“Youalwayshave something better to do. It used to be gymnastics. Now it’s work, work, work. The only difference is that you won’t come within twelve feet of me anymore.”
“Because I—” Taking a moment to adopt a gentle, even tone, I said, “Jenna, I don’t want to upset you. Or make you relive—”
“It was an accident! One you apologized for countless times. It’s just I was too scared to listen.”
“You refused to be in the same room with me. That goes beyond being scared. You wereterrifiedof me. Of my temper. Rightfully so. What kind of monster hits an eleven-year-old girl?”
“I’m—it’s not that I was scared. I was—Iam—angry. Furious, sometimes. Lonely. And I have no one to vent to because my favorite sister disappeared. The one I could always talk to, who told me it was okay to like omega things even though I’m a beta. And I miss her. Have never stopped missing her. But she… She’s gone. And I hate myself for still wanting her back. But I do. I wantherback.”
“Me too,” I said, choking on a bitter swell of emotion. “I miss her too. But I’m not worth hating yourself over.”
“That’s what my therapist said, too. She also pointed out that while the accident changed a lot for me, for the family, it ruinedeverythingfor you.”
“Not ruined, Jenna. Altered, redirected—but it didn’t ruin my life. You know I’m too stubborn to admit defeat.”
Jenna shook her head with a chagrined huff. “You don’t even read anymore.”
“I read different things.” Thinking of the two fantasy books from Wyatt languishing in my closet, I murmured, “But you’re right. I haven’t read a book we could talk about in years.”
Patting the bed, I hoped she’d at least take a few steps closer, if not sit beside me. But Jenna ignored the invitation. So, I picked at the seams of my comforter instead.
“I stopped watching baking shows. Never learned to throw pottery. Won’t risk a handstand. And I avoid bouncy houses at fundraisers like the plague. Because I changed, but also…”
Looking at the frost-covered skylight, pretending I was alone, I confessed my darkest thoughts.
