Sarah led me to her house, just next door, and welcomed me into a warm, cozy living room. The smell of cookies in the oven hit me the moment I stepped inside. It felt like I had crossed into another world—safe, calm, and full of life.
A girl about my age eyed me from across the room, curiosity written all over her face.
"Who've you brought home, Grandma?" she asked, looking me up and down.
"A friend," Sarah said with a smile, motioning for me to sit down.
"She's my age, old woman," the girl teased, plopping down beside me with ease. "Hi, I'm June. And you?"
"April," I answered, feeling a bit self-conscious in my worn clothes.
"April? No way!" she laughed. "Guess our parents were on a naming streak—months of the year, huh?"
I couldn't help but smile. For the first time today, something warmed inside me.
June was stunning—golden-blonde hair that fell perfectly over her shoulders, a radiant complexion, striking blue eyes, and a smile that made her feel instantly familiar. She had the kind of presence that filled a room effortlessly.
"I'm starting to think our parents would've been best friends," I said, laughing softly.
"Exactly!" she grinned.
Sarah returned with a first aid box and gave June a playful warning.
"I know you want to help, but I don't trust you with wounds, young lady. Go check the cookies instead."
"You know I don't bake!" June laughed, reaching for her phone instead.
Sarah sat in front of me and cleaned my wounds gently, chatting with me the entire time. June joined in now and then with comments that made me laugh more than I thought I could today.
"All done!" Sarah said with a gentle smile.
Her touch, her warmth — it reminded me so much of my mother. For the first time in a long while, I felt safe again.
"I think I should go now," I said softly, not wanting to impose, but reluctant to leave the comfort I'd found here.
"You dare not, babes!" June exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "Please stay for dinner."
Sarah nodded. "She's right, darling. Dinner's almost ready."
I hesitated. I didn't want to be a burden. But my stomach had other plans, growling loudly at the mention of food. I hadn't eaten a proper meal in days.
"Okay," I said finally, trying to sound casual. "If you insist."
"So," June asked, settling in next to me again. "Where do you school?"
"Oakwood. You?"
"Nova!" she said, grinning.
I gasped. "You don't say!"
"I say, girl!" she laughed, and I laughed too—fully, freely, for the first time in what felt like forever.
"Wow, the girls at my school talk about yours all the time. You know Oakwood is considered the best in town, right?" I said, intrigued.
"Really?" June laughed, brushing it off with a modest shrug.
"It's a nice school," she admitted. "Are you… interested in meeting people from my school?"
"I don't know how I feel about that, to be honest," I replied quietly, feeling a bit shy.
"Well, just think about it. There's this party coming up this weekend—it's kind of like a concert. A bunch of people from my school will be there."
"So… that means it's for Nova students only?" I asked.
"That's not really the case," she said quickly. "It's open to everyone. It's just hyped up in Nova because—wait for it—Enzo Blake is coming."
"Never heard of him," I said, watching her expression shift from excitement to sheer disbelief.
"You've got to be kidding me, April! Who doesn't know Enzo Blake?" she exclaimed, eyes wide.
"I don't," I repeated.
"Well, I don't either," Grandma Sarah cut in from across the room.
"That's because you're old, Nana!" June replied playfully, rolling her eyes.
I chuckled and said, "I'll think about it," as we moved toward the dining table.
Dinner wasn't awkward at all. In fact, it felt like I'd known Sarah and June my whole life. The food was delicious, the atmosphere warm, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like I belonged somewhere. For a brief moment, I forgot about all my problems.
After dinner, June walked me home.
"I never knew someone so pretty lived so close," she said, smiling at me as we approached my front door.
"Well, now you do," I smiled back.
"Alright then. Think about the party, okay? I really want you to come with me."
I paused for a se
Her face lit up. "No way—really?!" she squealed and hugged me tight.
Just then, the door creaked open. Standing there, like a shadow cast over the moonlight, was my uncle.
"Where have you been?" he asked coldly, completely ignoring June's presence. Shame crept into my chest like a bitter fog.
"She was with me," June said quickly, stepping in. "We live right next door."
"I'll see you later, June," I said softly and stepped inside.
The next day, June came over again. We spent the afternoon chatting, laughing, and talking more about the upcoming party. I found myself slowly letting go of my reservations. Despite everything, I started looking forward to it.
Over the next few days, our bond grew stronger. June was bright, loud, and funny—and being around her felt like breathing fresh air after drowning in silence. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had a friend who truly saw me.
The weekend of the party was fast approaching.
But as I stood in front of my small closet, reality hit me like a wave. I didn't have anything to wear. Every dress I owned was either faded or torn. I ran my fingers over the frayed fabric and felt my throat tighten. For once, I wanted to go out and have fun—to be normal—but life wouldn't let me.
I picked up my phone and called June.
"Hey," she said cheerfully. "Ready for the party?"
"I don't think I can make it," I muttered, trying to sound casual.
"What? Why?" she asked.
"I just… something came up," I lied. The shame of telling her the truth—that I didn't have a decent dress—was too heavy to say out loud.
I hung up and sat on my bed, defeated. My eyes wandered to the passbook lying in my secret locker—the only thing my parents left me that was still in my possession. I pulled it out, ran my hand across the cover, and felt the tears I'd been holding back begin to fall.
I hadn't wanted anything this badly since my parents died. And now, when I finally did, I couldn't have it. That simple, painful truth shattered something inside me.
Eventually, exhaustion dragged me into sleep.