This is where Enya comes into the picture. She’s the one that takes care of the house and keeps me eating. She basically makes sure I stay alive. And it’s not because I don’t love food. I do, I love food. It’s the best thing in the universe. The problem is that when anxiety sets in, my brain shuts down and fails to tell me when I’m hungry.

There are moments like this one when I can’t find anything. Most of the time, it’s because I’m overloaded with thoughts. My vision blurs, my hands shake, and I overreact to the slightest thing.

“Have you seen my blue hoodie?” I yell as I sort through the clothes on the floor with my feet, sweat sliding down my back.

The door swings open with a bang and the woman that is like a mother to me sticks her head through. Enya is half my size and can read me like a book. “I don’t know,” she says, a knowing smile forming on her lips.

Her brown eyes avoid mine, even though I’m the one that’s usually bad at eye contact. She’s been trying for ages to bring me out of my comfort zone. She’s not that subtle about it, either.

“Please, Enya,” I beg, throwing myself on the bed.

The woman shakes her head and takes a seat next to me. She traces her fingers through my hair, my body slowly relaxing under her touch. Sighing, with my gaze fixed on the ceiling, I do my best to avoid giving her the explanation she clearly wants. Like I always do.

This is our dance: her trying to teach me how to communicate and accept people in my life. And me acting like I understand, but in reality, I never do, no matter how much I try.

“Please?” I whisper.

Enya nods, getting up to go to the laundry room. When she gets back, she’s gripping the hoodie, which is as long as a blanket, in her tiny hands.

“Here.” She hands it to me and I smile.

I sit up straight, pulling the sweater over my head. It covers most of my body and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s the most comfortable thing I own.

“Maybe Thory needs a walk?” she tries.

My head shakes in disagreement. I’m not in the mood to walk anyone’s dog. Last night was a total disaster and a tough reminder that I don’t have a place in my mom’s world. But my mom doesn’t seem to see, nor understand it. Indifference is her only way to cope as a parent.

“You can bring Kai and Nova,” I suggest, knowing how much they love to play in the pool.

“I will,” Enya smiles, then reaches for the doorknob. “I love you.”

“Right back at you.”