Page 40 of Atone

Her cheeks are almost as red as her hair, drawing out her freckles. “You saw that?”

“His back was to me, but I saw enough. I saw how you smiled at him. Who is he?”

Remi steps closer as Nikki walks past, sneering at her. They’ve been at odds since Remi beat her at cards a few weeks ago, and she lost her favorite ring.

“Just some guy.” Remi lowers her voice. “He lives in the next town over, and he graduated a couple of years ago.”

“How old is he?”

Remi shrugs. “Didn’t ask.”

“And he knows you’re only seventeen?”

“Come on, Mila. We were just talking. Who cares how old I am? I’m old enough to have a conversation.”

A conversation isn’t what worries me. It’s how close he was standing. How easily Remi seems to trust people. How quickly he was able to make her blush.

“Just be careful, okay?”

“I will.” She rolls her eyes, getting annoyed. “I can protect myself.”

She spins a dagger between her fingers as she walks away, irritated with me. And I don’t really blame her since she’s right. She doesn’t need me protecting her.

“What do you think you’re wearing?” My mother’s shrill voice snaps me to attention.

When I turn around, I find her frowning at me.

“Pants.”

“People don’t pay to see you throw knives in your pajamas. They want something nice to look at.”

“These aren’t pajamas.” They’re skintight leather.

“Go change before the next wave rushes in. Next time I see you, there better be legs on display. Really, Mila, I don’t know when you’ll get it together.” She scoffs. “And fix your makeup while you’re at it. You look too young with a fresh face.”

I am too young.

The comment is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back.

Mom doesn’t care that I’m sixteen. The one time I brought it up, she brushed me off with a comment about them being allowed to look but not touch.

And she wonders why we aren’t closer.

“Go. Change.” She gives me a final dismissive glance before turning to berate someone else.

I catch the back of Remi’s head, still disappearing at a distance, as I hurry back to the tent, feeling guilty about my constant pessimism lately.

Maybe her crush is a nice guy. Maybe they’ll fall in love. Maybe he’ll give her a better life, like she’s always pushed for me.

Maybe someday, we’ll actually escape the carnival.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to shake the doubt that lives inside me. I don’t need anyone’s approval.

Not my mother’s.

Not Alex’s.

If I’m not worth their time and attention, then they aren’t worth mine. Remi taught me that.

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