But Grandma Gerry wasn’t looking at her with disappointment as she climbed the steps to the deck. No, she was smiling at her. A wide smile that showed lots of her teeth.
Bree’s stomach sank. She didn’t like that smile. It usually meant Grandma Gerry was going to tell her something bad. For her own good, of course.
“What are you doing over here by yourself?” Grandma Gerry asked. “Why aren’t you having fun with the other kids?”
“I was on the trampoline with Elijah.” That was fun. She didn’t feel so heavy on the trampoline. When she bounced on it, when she was in the air, she felt as if she could do anything. Even flips. Plus, it counted as exercise because she’d been jumping. A lot.
Leaning over the table, Grandma Gerry rolled down the top of the Dorito bag.
How did she know? It must be a mom thing—even though she wasn’t her dad’s real mom, she’d still raised him and Aunt Fay for a long time, so maybe she got some of that mom stuff that way.
Or maybe, she thought with a sigh as she glanced down at her hands, Grandma Gerry had spied Bree’s stained fingers.
Stupid fake cheese flavoring. Why did it have to be so...orange? And so delicious?
“You should be playing with kids your own age. Aren’t any of your friends here?”
“No,” Bree muttered.
“Well, then, let’s see what we can do to make you some new friends, hmm?” Grandma Gerry said in a determined voice. “Look, there’s Ryleigh from your soccer team. Ryleigh?” she called to the other girl.
Bree couldn’t breathe and her head felt itchy and prickly, as if her hair was trying to crawl away. She couldn’t draw in even the slightest bit of air. Her lungs burned. She was going to pass out. She was going to pass out and die, right then and there.
And when her grandma waved and smiled that scary, toothy smile at the best player on Bree’s team and said, “Honey, could you come up here for a minute?” she wished she was already dead.
Frantic, Bree scanned the crowd for someone to save her, preferably her mother. Luckily, she was there because Aunt Fay had invited her to the picnic, too.
The second time Bree looked from the pool to the garage, she spotted her mom with some woman in jean shorts and a flowy top. Her dad...where was her dad? Chewing on her lower lip, she rose onto her toes and searched until she saw him sitting on a lawn chair with Papa Carl. But he wasn’t looking at her grandpa. He was looking at...her mom.
Maybe he was staring because he wasn’t used to seeing her in a dress, even a casual sundress and wedges. Or maybe it was because she was laughing, her head thrown back, the tail of her braid trailing down her back.
Whatever it was, it made Bree feel funny, the way he watched her mom, his jaw tight, his eyes narrowed. Sort of like how Edward looked at Bella in the first Twilight movie. As if he was mad. As if he wanted to kill her.
As if he wanted to kiss her.
She swallowed and forced herself to turn away.
“Ryleigh,” Grandma Gerry said, putting her arm around the blonde’s shoulders, “do you remember Bree? From soccer?”
“Sure,” Ryleigh said, her own smile friendly. “Hi, Bree.”
“Hi.”
“Were you heading to the pool?” Grandma Gerry asked.
Ryleigh, wearing her swimsuit and carrying a beach towel, nodded. “Mr. Pettit set up a net so we can play volleyball in the water.”
Grandma Gerry’s eyes gleamed. “That sounds like fun. Doesn’t that sound like fun, Bree?”
Standing in the water getting splashed while a bunch of kids—skinnier kids, more athletic kids—hit a ball back and forth?
“Sure,” she said.
“Maybe Bree could join you?” her grandma asked, as if that was just the best idea ever.
Bree’s face burned. Why didn’t she just say, Hey, could you play with my fat granddaughter? Oh, and be sure to teach her how to be more like you and less like herself.
“Yeah, that’d be great,” Ryleigh said, as if she really meant it.
Even though she was a year older than Bree, she always said hi to her at practice and even told her “Good job” when Bree did well—which wasn’t often.
Ryleigh truly was nice. One of the nicest girls on the team.
Nice and pretty and skinny and popular and good at sports.
Her grandma and dad probably wished they’d had her instead of getting stuck with Bree.