Page 53 of Confessions of a High School Guidance Counselor

“It’s a long story.” A heavy sigh came through the phone. “You know how some people are.”

Oh, I knew. I definitely knew.

“What about you?” she asked. “How was your week?”

I frowned. It hadn’t been completely terrible. But I was still down about the home inspection. “The house I was going to buy fell through. It looks like I won’t be closing on anything until the summer, if then.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m still on the apartment hunt.”

I chuckled. “Not really. But I have a great realtor if you want help. I’m not sure if she does apartment searches though.”

“The internet’s been really handy,” she said. “It’s just a matter of finding something that’s available. For the amount of people leaving California, it feels like there’s still no housing.”

“I hear you,” I said.

“This is depressing,” she said with a tinkling laugh. “Let’s talk about something happy.”

“I could mention your smile,” I said. It was the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re sweet,” she said quietly.

I could hear the smile in her voice, and I wished I could see it too.

“You know,” she said. “You have a nice smile too.”

“I do?” I asked. My teeth had been messed up as a kid because dentistry was even lower than me on my mother’s priority list. I’d since gotten braces and had my teeth whitened a couple times, but that old insecurity stuck around.

“Mhmm. It’s...wholesome.”

I had to chuckle now. “Wholesome?” I’d never been called that before in my life.

“Yeah, like you don’t look like you have a mouth full of Chiclets. And when you smile big, your eyes crinkle around the corners and you look so happy. And then there’s your smirk, which is really—”

The line went silent, and I almost worried we’d lost connection.

“Are you still there?” I asked.

A silent pause.

“Birdie?”

“Yes?” she said shyly.

My grin spread. “What were you about to say about my smirk?”

“That I’ll see it, and you, tomorrow.”

28

Birdie

Confession: I don’t really like my clothes.

Frowning, Mara stood in front of my closet (well, technically her closet) and flipped through the neutral-toned dresses.

“What?” I said, already defensive.

“I didn’t know this many shades of black existed,” she said. “Does that school have something against color?”

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