Page 102 of Not How I Saw That Going

“Wait.” I peek out at the living room to make sure Crew is playing okay. “You actuallyatethe bread?”

I’ve been trying to get her to eat something with carbs for years. I might have to applaud the devil for this one.

“I didn’t know!” she hurries to defend herself. “I should have, though. The texture was completely different and it tasted way better than normal, but I was distracted with work stuff. The second I finished the sandwich, Connor came in to gloat.”

My interest is piqued. This Connor might not be so bad. “So what else has the devil made you do?”

“No more talking about this. Open your door.”

I rush to the front door, hanging up the phone on my way.

“Took you long enough,” Maddie teases, but still wraps me in a hug anyway. “I brought dinner for Crew.” She holds up a bag with an unfamiliar logo on it.

Crew pops his head out of the fort that wasn’t there thirty seconds ago.Why can’t he clean up his toys that fast?

“Is it a Happy Meal?”

Maddie wrinkles her nose. “No. It’s a little healthier than that.”

“Yuck. I hate healthy food.” Crew frowns and ducks back under the sheets.

Maddie sighs and flips her hair. I can tell it’s been a long day, and honest children rarely make the day better.

“He’ll eat it later,” I comfort her.Maybe.“Now help me get ready.”

“Right. Yes. That’s why I’m here.” She shakes her head like she’s forgotten. Her feud with Connor must be getting to her.

“You can go crazy,” I say, aiming to further pull her out of her distress.

“Really?” Her eyes snap up to mine and it’s like I’ve just unlocked the magical kingdom. “Oh, I can’t wait to try smokey eyes on you.”

“Yay.” I fake a smile, then turn on the TV for Crew. It won’t entertain him for long, but hopefully, it will give Maddie a good start on my hair and makeup before he decides he wants tohelp.

It only takes five minutes into the process for me to remember why I don’t do this on a regular basis. One, tweezing my eyebrows hurts. A lot. Two, I do not have enough time or energy to paint on a new face every day. Putting on a little bit of eyeshadow and mascara is one thing, but contouring and bronzing is a major commitment.

“I forgot how thick your hair is,” Maddie says, releasing more strands from the clip on top of my head.

Back when the only thing we had to worry about was looking good to impress a crush, Maddie used to do my hair for everything. Basketball games, dances, parties. She’s always been the best friend/sister I never deserved.

Sometimes I wondered if I’d gained a sister when my mom remarried, would life be different? Would she have made sure I still felt like part of the family instead of the way Drew used me as a scapegoat? Probably not. That’s wishful thinking. But spending my last year as a teenager alone and pregnant left me a lot of free time to think.

I’ve always hated doing that.

“Is this a gray hair?”

“What?” I jerk so hard my head connects with the curling iron. “Ow!” I scream, trying to pull away.

“Sorry,” Maddie says, hurrying to untangle my fried hair from the burning wand.

“Where is it? Where is the gray hair?” I shriek, frantically leaning closer to the mirror to get a better look.

“I don’t know. I lost it when you moved.”

“It wasn’t really gray, right? Please tell me it was just the light.” I separate my hair this way and that. I don’t care about my curls. I’m going to find this stupid hair, and then I’m going to pull it and glue my pore shut.

Maddie bites her bottom lip. “It looked pretty gray.”

My shoulders droop, and my legs give out. I fall onto the edge of the bathtub. “I’m too young to have gray hair. How did this happen? No one will ever love me now.”