I’m lucky you’re my sister.”

She puts her hand on my shoulder,

and I pull away.

“I’m sorry.”

“Saying you’re sorry

doesn’t undo all you’ve done.”

“You’re right, you’re right.

All I can do is

treat you better starting now.

And I promise I will.”

SISTERS AT LAST

I can’t help it.

I want Anaïs to feel

some of the hurt

that I feel.

So I let her have it.

“Do you even realize you haven’t

called me by my real name

since my fifth birthday?”

Tears well in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare cry, Anaïs!

You don’t have a right to cry!

You’re the reason

everyone calls me Splash!”

But she can’t help it.

She buries her face in her hands

and sobs.

Maybe

it’s from watching Anaïs cry.

Maybe

it’s from just thinking about

all the years of being called Splash.

But a wave of sadness hits.

I surrender to the sadness.

It’s so

heavy,

dark,

and cold,

it takes my breath away.

Anaïs leans in and whispers,

“I do care.

I want to be here for you.”

I let her wrap her arms around me,

draw me close,

hold me tight,

tighter,

while today’s dammed tears break free

and we both

can’t stop sobbing.

CALLED BY NAME

An oyster can turn

something irritating into

a rare and beautiful pearl.

People can do that, too.

Anaïs and I end up talking for hours.

It’s as if we’re making up for lost time.

She says seeing my bruises

after the prank with the chair

woke her up.

“I just kept thinking,

‘I can’t believe they hurt Ellie.

I mean, they really hurt her.’ ”

I don’t tell her the bruises

hurt less than

the words they’ve said,

that there are wounds she can’t see.

I don’t say anything

because

I can only focus on one thing.

She called me Ellie.

IGNORED OUT OF EXISTENCE

Surprise, surprise.

Dad calling the school

about the chair incident

doesn’t stop Marissa and Kortnee from

being mean to me.

Now,

instead of torturing me,

they ignore me—

and have their friends

ignore me, too.

At first I think

being ignored is better

than being humiliated.

But then I wonder.

Because when people look right through you,

it’s like you don’t even matter.

Like you don’t exist.

And everyone is fine

with that.

DIFFERENT AND OKAY

For history class,

we’re supposed to write a report about

a way in which society’s changed

over the years.

I’m writing about

how the world’s view of

beauty based on size has changed.

With the help of our librarian, Mrs. Pochon,

I find reliable sources on the internet and

books of photos of paintings and sculptures

from a hundred to a thousand years ago.

They’re from cultures around the world