“No, no, no.”

Lilian takes one look at me and grimaces. We haven’t stepped outside, and already she’s regretting inviting me to her friend’s party. I can’t blame her, though. I don’t want me there either. It’s comfortable at home. Well, her home. A four-bedroom, two-story dwelling in central New Jersey, where my mother moved after she married Lilian’s father. It’s been three years, but I migrated last week. Until then, I lived with my grandmother.

I gaze downwards at myself, comfortable shoes hugging my feet, bargain jeans around my waist, and a cozy full-zip hoodie.

“Wat wrong wid it?” I ask, giving no hint of emotion or thought.

“You’re joking, right?” Lilian sighs, grabs my wrist, and pulls me from the hallway into her room. There, she allows my hand to drop. I watch her with my lips pressed together as she struts to her closet.

She’s beautiful. Narrow waist, broad hips, and the perfect ratio of ass. She’s every man’s dream.

Whereas I’m — just me.

Even her bedroom is perfect, with a four-poster bed and a peach canopy, which blends well with the lavender walls. Similar to mine, hers is west-facing, but the glow is magical. The reddish hue hates and taunts me.

“Wear this.”

Lilian tosses the royal blue fabric at me, and I catch it, but that’s all I do. She still has to shed my mundane outfit and revamp me with her trendy attire.

Why you standin’ like a fool? She ‘ave to dress you too?

Then, my stepsister examines me before her red-bottom heels click toward her closet once again. This time, she emerges with a pair of black Palermo Pumas.

My lips throb with pain. That’s how I realize I am chomping on it, anticipating Lilian’s attempt to put me in heels. It’s not as if I can’t walk in them. It’s that wearing them is exhausting, and I’m tired.

I’m a worn-out bulb by the time Lilian lugs me to the vanity, but when she finishes with me, I can barely recognize myself. My face is mostly natural, since her light powder and concealer can do nothing for my dark complexion. However, my eyes are a single hibiscus in a field of weeds. With smoky mascara and a fusion of turquoise and purple eyeshadow, my stepsister transforms me. She embellishes the metamorphosis with red matte lipstick, which she borders with a midnight liner. Then, she completes the entire ensemble with simple hoop earrings and a matching necklace. Lilian even tames my unruly kinks, molding them into a sleek ponytail.

“Wow.”

“Do you like it?” she asks with a wide grin as she bounces on her toes.

“Ah love it,” I say, as I contemplate her motives. “Tanks.”

Why she do dis?  Is she fattenin’ de pig for de slaughter?

“Don’t mention it.” Lilian links her elbow with mine and leads me to the first floor. “I’ve wanted to do it since I first saw you.”

Does she tink ah ugly?

My mom and stepfather are in the living room watching a movie and feeding each other popcorn.

Uhh.

As soon as my mother sees me, she abandons her toddler to greet me with a hug.

“Ah, my baby.” She puffs out and runs her palm along my shoulder. “You look amazing!” Her eyes are glassy, and she drags her words out until her husband joins her.

“I agree,” he voices, but I can’t read him. I’m focused on the abstract art behind; the rustic chandelier hovers above.

“Tanks. It’s all Lilian.”

Bu’ why?

He turns to his daughter then. “Remember. Back by curfew. Tonight is no exception.”

Wat does he mean? Why would today be an exception? It’s me, isn’t it? Oh God, it’s me.

I glance about and step backward, trying to breathe through the dizziness.

“Are you ok?” My mother watches me with a frown. “Do you feel sick? Can you make it tonight?”

I want to say no. I wish I could tell her I’m staying at the house, but I notice her wrinkled brow, and I can’t. She has been fussing over me since I arrived. If I stay, she’ll worry.

I’m a nuisance to everyone.

“No, I’m fine,” I reassure her and say my goodbyes. Lilian tiptoes and places a soft kiss on her father’s cheek with a sickening, “Love you, Daddy,” prior to leaving.

It doesn’t take us long to walk to her friend’s place. It’s the green residence three blocks up with a charming white picket fence and a towering Christmas tree that’s lit, despite it being summer.

Ignoring my stepsister’s urgings, I walk a step behind, struggling to adjust to the explosive pop music and packed crowd. The room greets me with a distinct blend of perspiration and warmth. Perhaps that’s why the air feels thick and stifling.

I’m avoiding a couple starved for affection when two Barbies greet Lilian with shrieks. I move away so they won’t trample me, but I am close enough to hear their conversation.

“Ladies,” Lilian tames the beasts with ease. “This is my sister, Krystel.” Her voice rattles as she introduces me, as if it pains her.

She hates me. I know it.

“Hi.” I get the sound past the ball in my throat, but I’m competing with the music, and it sprints, leaving me in its dust.

The girls stare at me, and I notice their mouths move with what I think is ‘hello.’ However, I don’t hold their interest.

They already hate me!

I track Lilian as she follows the Barbies into a dimly lit area. It’s much easier to breathe, as there is only one person here. She occupies the velvet loveseat with a perky posture as she observes me.

Oh my gosh, she knows. Did Lilian tell her I’m not normal, dat I’m defective?

I don’t make eye contact, paying attention to the bookshelves and the gourmet spread on the center table.

“This is my best friend, Jade,” Lilian says, referring to the green-eyed beauty who does not wait for further introduction. She grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me in for a warm hug.

“Oh my God, it’s great to finally meet you. Lilian talks about you all the time.”

I was right. Lilian told her.

“She does?” I try to steady my voice as the walls close in on me.

“Yes. She told me you recently moved from—.”

My nails sink into the back of the sofa for support. Not only does my dizziness persist, but my stomach is also churning.

“I’m from — Grenada.” My free hand is at my waist, and I am leaning forward.

Jade and Lilian give me the same scrutiny. They both tilt their heads and pull me in with their eyebrows drawn together.

“Are you ok?” Lilian asks.

I know I’m breathing so hard that they can see the strained rise and fall of my chest, but I can’t calm down. The world is drifting farther, and I’m viewing myself from a distance. I struggle to stay composed, but a coldness crawls underneath my skin as warmth settles on my forehead. It hints at an imminent explosion.

“I’m…I’m fine.” I force the words, and they come out loud enough to yank the Barbies’ attention from their chocolate-covered hazelnut truffles. Now, more eyes are beaming at me.

When it hits, my fears mold into a ball of debilitation. Thoughts of restarting in a new country and disappointing my family become an excruciating reality. The worst is the overwhelming dread of being hated by everyone: Lilian, her father, and even Jade. In my nightmarish reality, my worries manifest as a tangled web, dragging my incompetence within it, suffocating me.

The urge to escape overwhelms, so I do.

Without another word, I bolt from the library, relying on instinct to guide me through the horde of teenagers. Oh, how I envy them. Carefree.

I take a wrong turn because I exit the main door into cool air at the house’s side. Nevertheless, I bend over, clutching my knees as I inhale past my fears.

In. Out. Breathe. Just breathe. You’re ok. You’ve gone through this before. You can do this.

When I no longer feel the oxygen being vacuumed from my body, I push backward onto the wooden structure, grateful for the support. Although my vision is diminished, it’s good enough to notice a slender boy with shaggy hair and intense brown irises. He’s wearing slim black jeans and a snug t-shirt that highlights his active lifestyle.

We do nothing except stare. Me, like a thief getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar, and him… I can’t discern the expression, but his smile is — wistful.

I turn to avoid his focus.

Jus go away.

“Hey.” His voice is a sedative, and I’m shot with a heavy dose. But rather than bringing me calm, the fact that he saw my meltdown heightens my worry.

“Hi.” I don’t watch him.

He comes to stand at my side, dragging the scent of lemon and spice.

Great. Here it comes. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s your name?”

His question causes me to flinch. “Uh. Me?” I point at myself.

I ain’t get it. He’s supposed to make fun of me. But why doesn’t he?

He must have noticed my startled deer expression because he chuckles, and the sound shoots a heat into my chest. It isn’t as before, though. This is…pleasant. “Is there anyone else around?”

“Umm,” I mumble, “I’m Krystel.”

“And I’m Jayden.” He pauses. “I don’t recognize you. Do you attend our school?”

“No,” I stammer. “I jus’ moved, bu’ I’ll go same school as Lilian…I think.”

“Wait!” His eyes widen, and he takes on a childish excitement.

Is he gonna laugh at me now?

“Are you Lilian’s sister?” He doesn’t pause for me to respond. “She’s been talking about your arrival for weeks. I swear I’ve never seen that girl so excited.”

There’s that ball in my throat again. “Lilian was excited to meet me?”

“Well, yeah. She’s always wanted a sibling, and according to your mom, you two are quite alike.”

Wat? I tought she didn’t want me here. Dats why I avoid her. Dat means, all this time I was shunning her. Not the other way. How could I be this stupid?

I smack my forehead and retrieve my phone from the bag Lilian gave me earlier. As I unlock the screen, a message catches my attention. ARE YOU ALRIGHT? Another follows it. WHERE DID YOU GO? I CAN’T FIND YOU.

She’s lookin’ for me.

My fingers spring into action, soothing my sister’s anxieties. I NEEDED SOME AIR. I’M FINE. COMING BACK IN NOW.

I turn to the door, but prior to rejoining my partying peers, I glance towards Jayden. He gazes at me with a tilted head and a building smile.

“I’m goin’ in. Bu’ it was great meeting you.”

His smile blossoms then into a wide grin. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Me too.” I’m unable to withhold my own symbol of happiness. “And Jayden, tank you.”

A wink is all I get. But it is more than I need.

Editor: Shannon Hensley