Page 40 of How You See Me
“Ready,” she sings, jumping out of the ladies’ shower building eleven minutes after her promised time. She poses with one hand on a hip and the other flung into the air. Tight maroon leggings. A white, off-the shoulder tee with pink cowboy boots sketched on the front. “What do you think?”
I sift through the abundance of choice words flooding my brain for something more appropriate. “It fits you.”
Everything about her is bright and unfiltered. The exact opposite of me. Maybe that’s why I notice every subtle detail about her ever-changing emotions—studders in her breathing, voice inflections, eyes like a mirror into her thoughts—and why they all fluctuate. She’s an open book, and one I shouldn’t be reading as easily and often as I do. I wish all her glittery energy annoyed me, but I find myself wanting more. To flip the next page of Josie Jones and keep reading late into the night.
“Is that another one of your auto-responses?” she asks with an eye roll. Yet another thing that should grate against my nerves, but I find cute as hell. “No,great, andit fits.”
“Guess so.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t balk at my rollercoaster request.” She practically skips along with my stride.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t expect you to want to ride, that’s all.”
“Because they’re fun?”
She grins, giving me a side-eye. “Something like that.”
“I know how to have fun, Josie.”
“But do you? Ever?”
It’s a fair question. Truth is, I don’t remember the last time I did anything fun just for the hell of it. Not since Ava got sick. Not since Jordan’s accident before that. My life’s been one long stretch of tragedy and survival.
Work used to be my escape. It isn’t anymore.
“I'll admit it’s been a while.”
“Then you must allow yourself to have fun today.” Those long damn eyelashes flutter, eyes reflecting too much hope.
I can’t saynoto that face. “I’ll try.”
She squeals, a high-pitched shockwave I wasn’t ready for and my muscles revolt.
“I’m so excited. Aren’t you?”
“So excited.” I go to rub my temple and press the headache away, but she grabs my hand.
“Try that again.” She walks backward, our intertwined hands swinging between us.
“I can’t wait?” I try, fake smile and all.
“You look constipated.”
“Insulting me isn’t going to help.”
“Fine. Along with your sense of humor, we’ll work on showing your emotions.” She skips back to my side. “What are you feeling right now?”
Like my damn arm is about to explode. She’s got a tight grip on my hand and it’s all I can focus on. All my emotions and energy are going toward making sure Idon’tbring attention to it. “Stressed.”
Her bottom lip pokes out, which somehow makes it worse. “Fun isn’t supposed to take so much effort.”
It is when every nerve in your body is telling you to do things you’ve sworn yourself not to. “I’m out of practice, remember?”
“Right. In that case, I’ll take the lead. Your only job is to ignore your normal impulse and sayyesinstead.”
I stop, and she spins to face me. “What if you suggest something I don’t want to do?”
