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a deep breath
to slow my heartbeat, and keeping myself covered in case he popped in on me
again. I climbed to my alarm clock, turned off the radio, and then carefully
walked to my door. The hallway was clear, but downstairs I could hear Joe
rifling through my silverware drawer. I opened my closet door, grabbed the
first dress I could find, and then I sprinted across the hall to the bathroom.
    I
took the world’s fastest shower. And let me tell you, there was nothing calming
about taking a shower when some strange boy who could walk in at any moment and
probably wouldn’t even hesitate to do so is right down the hall. I dried off,
and then tried to put on the flowery dress I brought into the bathroom, but it
didn’t fit because I forgot to put my transformation rune on my stomach
before I put it on.
    It’s
not like I was fat. Magic helped me stay trim, but my build is naturally much
bigger than is socially approved. So, I put the right rune on my stomach with
my fingers trembling, and then once the rune hit, I pulled the zipper up
without any hint of resistance.
    My
hair was the one part of me that was naturally thin, but after I put the rest
of my transformation runes on, and smiled into the mirror, I looked the
way a pretty rube would after about an hour of preparation. It only took me
three minutes, including the shower. The clock in the bathroom said
seven-fifteen, so I still had about twenty minutes before I had to leave for
school.
    Armed
with my transformation runes, I opened the bathroom and walked into the
hall. It was quiet downstairs, so I knew Joe wasn’t down there.
    Down
the hall behind me, a noise came from inside my parent’s room. I found him in
my parent’s closet, standing over the mess of paperwork I had made when I
searched for any backup copies of my mom’s notebook.
    He
looked around the room for a minute, taking in the dust on my parent’s
bedspread, the disarray of the open drawers, and the pile of paperwork on the
floor.
    “Where
are your parents, Larissa?”
    “Shut
up,” I whispered.
    My
heart was so close to my throat that I couldn’t speak at a full volume. He
walked past me and I grabbed his arm.
    “Don’t,
please.”
    His
arm slipped through my grasp and he walked out my parent’s open door. I
followed behind him as he opened the white door with the words ‘Phoebe’s Room’
in a rainbow of painted wood cutouts. He opened the door, and I stood back, not
wanting to look in my sister Fee’s empty room.
    I
started walking away, my eyes to the floor that so desperately needed vacuumed.
I took the stairs two at a time until I reached the bottom. Joe’s empty bowl
sat in the spotless sink. I opened up the dishwasher and put in his bowl. It
was Tuesday, so there was still another six days before it was full enough for
me to start it. I pulled out a clean bowl from the cupboard, poured some
cereal, and then turned to face the staircase.
    Joe
walked down the stairs. I didn’t want to look at him, but his eyes, so full of
compassion and understanding, seemed to hold everything I needed. He walked
toward me and cupped my face with his left hand. I started crying then and he
pulled me into a tight hug. I kept my arms folded as he held me close.
    We
stood like that for a while, me crying, and him not saying anything. I moved my
arms and held him back, my hands against his shoulder blades. He smelled like
soap.
    It
was comfortable for about five seconds, and then it seemed weird. I backed up,
and Joe let me go without any resistance. I wiped my eyes and then pulled the
milk from the fridge.
    “How
long ago?” he asked.
    I
thought for a moment, although I didn’t need to.
    “Eight
months and five days.” I took out a spoon and took a bite. I don’t think I
could taste anything.
    “How’d
it happen?”
    “Car
crash.”
    His
eyes closed as he realized what yesterday must have been like for me.
    “Dude,
I’m sorry,” he said.
    He
opened his eyes and they were so blue. Light blue at