A pensive expression takes hold of my features. Despite the fact that I’m staring at myself in the mirror, and what Zoe told me about my life still being mine, it doesn’t stop me from feeling as though I’m watching a stranger, and the real me is hidden somewhere underneath. Putting on a pretty dress doesn’t make me feel any more at ease.

Instead, it makes me feel like the girl Zoe was describing, the one in the photos in my bedroom, at the top of the high school food chain, looking down on everyone else.

“Maybe another time,” I say finally, and Zoe straightens her posture, expression unreadable.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” I nod, taking one last lingering look at myself before heading back into the change room to take the dress off.

When I come out, Zoe’s gaze is riveted on the dress, burning a hole in the fabric as the attendant hangs it on the rack, and it’s not until long after she’s dropped me off that I recognize the look in her eyes as raging jealousy.

06 | Submerge

The next morning, I have an appointment with Dr. Meyer.

Sofia takes the day off work, and it gives me a valid reason to skip out on school this time. I get ready in my room, selecting one of my many black blouses and running a brush through my hair. It isn’t long before I hear a tap on my door and look over in time to see Sofia entering the room.

“Almost ready?” she asks, eyes raking over my appearance.

“Yeah,” I say, reaching for my bag.

“I have something for you,” she announces, and it’s only then I notice the box in her hands. She offers it to me.

It’s a brand-new smartphone. I lift the lid off the box and pluck the sleek device from the packaging, turning it over in my fingers.

“Since they couldn’t find your phone anywhere after the accident,” she explains, clasping her fingers, “I wanted you to have an easier way to contact us. Anytime you need. We can set it up after your appointment.”

I study her for a few beats, touched by the gesture. Her body language is stiff and uncertain, but this is clearly her way of showing that she cares. Our relationship has been the most difficult to navigate, and it’s hard to get a read on the way things were before. But I suppose all that matters now is the both of us trying to make the best of it.

“Thank you,” I say, voice warm.

Sofia takes a seat on my bed, smoothing out the duvet cover, before looking at me squarely. “Allie,” she starts. “I know you skipped school yesterday. Your teacher called.”

“Oh.” I try not to cringe.