I clutched the locket around my neck, feeling its cool metal against my skin. I fingered the little heart shape of it. It was the locket Eva gave me when she died. It meant the world to me. It was the necklace the note from Eva had been stuffed in.
"I won't go, I won't go," I whispered over and over to myself. I didn't even want to think about it. A couple of weeks with Aunt Stephanie? A week is a feat for me. And I can escape to my room if I have to, here. There, I wouldn't have anywhere to hide. Nowhere to run or escape. I sat studying the photo on my headboard. It was Richelle, Gabby, Eva, and I in Eva's hospital room. Richelle's arms were wrapped around a crying, six-year-old Gabby. Eva had oxygen tubes running out of her nostrils, and multiple IVs in her arm, but her bright, amazing smile made up for it. I missed her.
"Sadie?" Richelle lightly rapped on my open door. "Can I come in or should I duck?"
I could hear a teasing tone in her voice. I wasn't in the mood for teasing. I didn't respond.
Richelle let out a soft sigh. I could feel her sitting on the bed beside me. She rubbed my back in circular motions, just like Eva used to. "Are you okay?"
I blinked back tears. "Yeah. I'm okay." I looked up at Richelle, careful not to meet her eyes.
Richelle looked at me intently. "I know you're not."
I looked at my lap, not saying anything.
"Listen," Richelle said, putting an arm around me. "You can take off your 'I'm okay' hat. It's just me. Fall apart. I'm not going anywhere."
I choked back a sob. "I love you."
Richelle took me and gathered me in her arms. "I love you too. I love you so much."
Tears spilled out onto her lap. Richelle stroked my dirty blonde hair the way Eva always used to. Sometimes the similarities between them made me ache for Eva, but it's times like these when the similarities make me feel even more at home.
"Sadie," Richelle whispered. "Remember who you are."
The words Eva always used to tell me. Eva called me God's princess, because that was what my name meant. I didn't believe it, but because it was what Eva used to say, I didn't object. The tie to Eva was enough to make me want to sob again. They were twins, after all.
"Hey Sades," Dad said, sitting next to Richelle, whose shoulder was now damp with tears.
"Dad, why do we need Aunt Stephanie?" I ask quietly. "I already have a mom. I can just keep doing what Eva would've and I'll just grow up to be like her, right?"
Richelle leaned over and planted a kiss on top of my head. "You come pretty darn close."
"See?" I blubbered. "It's fine. We don't need Aunt Stephanie. She's just so bent on changing us." Anger grips my chest. I hate this. "I have you guys. You're my family. I don't need anyone else."
"Oh Sadie," Richelle said, pulling me close. "I love you for that, I really do. But family isn't enough."
"I have Jazmine," I said, referring to my best friend.
Richelle rested her head on mine. "Sadie. You're going to have to learn to put up with difficult people. It's just part of life."
I pull away from Richelle, giving her the most scandalous look. "You're not with Dad on sending me with Aunt Stephanie and Mallory, right?"
Richelle's lips twitch. "Not even I am that cruel."
I smile a little. "Thanks."
"I wouldn't do that," Dad protested.
I roll my eyes and rest my head against Richelle's arm. "Tell me about her again. Eva." I knew Eva. I'd known her for nine years. And six before she got sick. But I loved listening to Richelle recount their adventures.
"She was amazing," Richelle's voice was dreamy. She was in her happy place. "She was kind and beautiful. And eccentric. And full of life. Her name meant life. She lived up to it." Richelle looked at me, a tranquil look on her face. "When she got sick-" Richelle's voice cracked. "Um. When she..." Richelle's voice was thick. I could hear the tears coming at any moment. "When she-" Richelle took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," she whispered. I could hear her crying softly as she ran out. What had I done?
"Sadie," Dad said. "It's not your fault. It's just hard for her. She's learning, and she's managing. Give her time. Don't blame yourself. She doesn't, I bet you."
"I don't deserve that," I muttered.
"She thinks you do," Dad said. "So did Eva. Prove them right."
I nod slowly. "I will. Thanks, Dad."
I half-ran out, eager to make amends, making a beeline for Richelle's room when Aunt Stephanie intercepted me.
"Where do you think you're going?" Mallory demanded, standing directly in front of Richelle's doorway.
"Nowhere," I said, trying to dodge her.
"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what you're doing," Aunt Stephanie said, walking up beside her daughter. Her eyes went straight to the locket hanging around my neck. Aunt Stephanie narrowed her eyes down into little hazel dashes like she does when she's furious. She pointed a long, perfectly manicured, white-tipped, fingernail at the blue and gold locket hanging around my neck. "What is that? So help me, Sadie Grace, you put one mark on that locket- it was your sister's and it's not a toy."
"I haven't been playing with it!" I snapped. The locket was one of the last pieces of Eva I had left and I wasn't about to let Aunt Stephanie have it.
"Quite frankly," Aunt Stephanie said, her tone laced with condescend. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were scrapping the thing for parts."
"She was my sister!" I snarled. "She gave it to me!"
"You'll destroy it!" Mallory said, lunging for it.
I slapped her hand- hard.
Aunt Stephanie was livid. "How dare you-"
"What the heck is happening out there?" Richelle asked, opening the door. The skin around her eyes was somewhat red and puffy as if she'd been crying hard.
Mallory and Aunt Stephanie whirled around to face Richelle.
"You let her have Eva's locket?" Aunt Stephanie demanded.
Richelle shrugged. "Wasn't my choice to make. Eva gave it to her."
"Was Eva aware of her carelessness?" Mallory asked, flipping her hair annoyedly. "Or did Eva just not care?"
Richelle's eyes hardened. "What did you say?"
"Richelle, she won't take care of it," Aunt Stephanie said.
"Is there a reason you want it?" Richelle asked, her voice hard.
"It's not hers," Mallory said, sticking her little button nose in the air.
"That's not an answer!" Richelle barked, stepping right in front of Mallory. "Why do you want it?"
"Get away from my daughter," Aunt Stephanie yanked Richelle back. "Listen, honey," she said as if speaking to a child. "I won't have her messing that locket up."
Richelle let out a haughty laugh. "That locket was my sister's. Do you seriously think I'm going to let her 'mess it up? You're even stupider than I pegged you to be."
"Give me the necklace!" Mallory made a grab for it, but I dodged as if she was a rabid dog.
Jumping back, I quickly unclasped the necklace.
"Give it to me," Richelle said. I passed it to her instantaneously.
"What do you think you're doing?" Mallory demanded.
"None of your business," Richelle said standing directly over her. Mallory was short and scrawny, and Richelle, tall and athletic, towered over her.
She cowered a bit under Richelle's glare, but quickly returned to her usual 'I'm entitled' pose.
"Whatever," Mallory turned, and with a toss of her long golden, pink-streaked hair, she sashayed after her mother.
I rushed toward my sister, wrapping my arms around her. "Richelle, I'm so sorry, I was so selfish, please forgive-"
"Shhhh," Richelle placed her index finger on my lips. "Calm down. It's not your fault. Don't beat yourself up because I'm too sensitive." Richelle lifted my chin, forcing me to lock eyes with her. "I love you."
"I love you too," I murmured.
*time skip*
"You're going to wear the outfit I got you for Christmas, right?" Aunt Stephanie asked. It wasn't a question, I knew. Whether we wanted to or not, it would happen.
"Yeah," Gabby said, tugging at the bubblegum pink tulle. "Because I want to look like a bottle of Pepto-Bismol."
I sputtered a laugh. "What?"
"Good one," Richelle's lips twitched as she high-fived Gabby.
Gabby beamed. Aunt Stephanie and Mallory didn't.
"I'm sorry," Richelle said with a straight face. "It's not funny-" She was cut off by her-and our laughter.
"Girls, come on," Aunt Stephanie said. "Cooperate. This will be fun. Stop complaining."
I glanced at Gabby with raised eyebrows. She rolled her eyes. This wouldn't be fun. Ugly, maybe. Boring, definitely. But fun? No way.
Shopping can be fun when Mom and Dad take us. They let us get what we want and style our own bodies. Aunt Stephanie does all of it for us.
"Come on, Gabriella-"
"It's Gabby," my little sister said.
Aunt Stephanie sighed. "Come on, Gabby. A new wardrobe would be fun. How long have you had that shirt-since you were seven?"
I glanced at Gabby's clothing choice. It was six, actually. And the shirt Eva got her for her birthday, the birthday before she got sick.
"Eva got me it," Gabby muttered.
Aunt Stephanie sighed for the third time in five minutes. "This family is so sentimental," she muttered. She smiled at Gabby patronizingly. "But new clothes would be fun. You can keep the shirt and get new stuff!"
"I like my stuff," Gabby said.
"Come on!" Aunt Stephanie threw her arms up exasperatedly. "You're making this harder than it has to be."
"Stop," Gabby's voice rose a little. "Just stop."
"Gabby," Richelle pulled her close, whispered something, and Gabby ran off.
Aunt Stephanie paced around my room, ticking things I didn't bother to listen to off on her fingers.
She said something I had tuned out, to Mallory, who nodded. Apparently, I should have been listening, because she then proceeded to fling drawers open.
I sighed inwardly. It was going to be a very long day. Made longer by the fact that we had to spend it in pink, teal, and purple. From the teal wedges I was sure to fall over in, oversized cotton candy-colored scrunchie that had no hope of holding in Richelle's thick brown hair, to the 'lovely' lavender skirt she'd made Gabby wear.
She'd coaxed my long, thick, dirty blonde hair into bouncy curls. Except they had so much hair gel I was convinced they would be there for the next six years. At least I wasn't Gabby, who had so much hairspray in her elaborate hairstyle you could smell it from a full five feet away.
As we walked, humiliated, toward Dillard's girls' section a tall, skinny girl with pale blonde hair peered at Richelle. "Richelle Cleveland, is that you?"
The look on Richelle's face was carefully guarded but radiated pure vexation. "Is that you, Autumn Andrews?"
"Of course it's Autumn," said the short, skinny girl with wavy blondish hair said. "You're the one who looks totally different. You look adorable, actually." She said it as if this was a new phenomenon. I already didn't like her.
"Doesn't she though?" Aunt Stephanie said. "Don't you think she should wear this all the time? Her hair too?"
"Oh yes!" Autumn grinned, revealing perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. "She's so cute like that!"
I could practically hear Richelle gritting her teeth. They were talking about her like she wasn't there. I knew my sister hated that.
"You wanna come with us to shop?" Aunt Stephanie offered, smiling so big I was sure there would be stretch marks.
Richelle opened her mouth, perfectly poised and prepared to protest, but both girls shook their heads.
"We can't, sorry," they both said. They smiled at us. "See you around though, Richelle." Then they turned and walked off.
"Richelle, why didn't you tell me about your friends?" Aunt Stephanie asked inquisitively.
"Because they're not my friends," Richelle said with a sharp edge to her voice.
"But they're so sweet," Aunt Stephanie said.
"They're not my friends," Richelle stated, a little more firmly.
That led to an inspiring conversation about how we all needed 'real girlfriends' because it wasn't healthy for us to spend so much time around girls who 'didn't know how to be girls'. Whatever that means. I'm not a pick-me girl, but half the girls like Mallory and Autumn I'd met couldn't keep their mouths shut for more than two seconds.
It could just be the extroverted girls of the world, but I still preferred boys over most girls. Boys don't want to sit down and do each other's nails and hair and talk about what boys we "like" liked and who we thought was cute. Sometimes, it makes me want to barf.