Staring at myself in the mirror, utter self-consciousness comes over me. My favorite t-shirt can no longer be my favorite t-shirt. Over the last year, I’ve noticed my body start to change. My legs and underarms are growing hair. Disgustingly, my privates have started growing hair, too. No longer can I go to the beach—well, pond—with the boys wearing my swimsuit. I wear a pair of shorts, because I’ll never hear the end of it if they see any hair sprouting from between my legs.
Most recently, though, I’ve noticed another change. My chest is starting to develop. I’ve been watching other girls at school wearing bras, flaunting their pink, unnecessary push-ups or matching sets that their mom took them to go get. The mother-daughter bonding that sounds like such a natural thing chirping out of these girls’ mouths while I’m dead scared to go tell my mom that I need my first bra. I haven’t even had the guts to confront her about shaving. I don’t even know if I’m supposed to.
The only thing I do know is that I wish I could go back to a year ago when I was one of the boys. They haven’t mentioned anything about the changes I’m seeing, but it’s only a matter of time. Will they even want to hang out with me anymore when they notice I’m turning into a girl?
Like an actual girl.
I shudder.
“Cara! I’m going out!” Mom barks at me.
Glancing in the mirror again, I stare at the tiny points sticking out of my shirt. Crap, it’s now or never.
“Mom!” I yell, running out of my room.
She’s already got the front door open, purse slung over her shoulder as she heads to what I’m assuming is the bar.
“What do you need, Cara? I’m already late.” She sighs, irritation rolling off her in waves.
Suddenly nervous and at a loss for words, I look down at the floor and bite my lip.
“What is it?” She snaps.
My eyes swing to hers. “I’m wondering if the next time you’re shopping… you can maybe get me a bra?”
She lets go of the door, and I watch as it swings shut and nearly slaps her in the ass. “What?”
“A bra. I think I need a bra.”
She glances down, cracking a smile. “Those mosquito bites?” She barks out a laugh. “I think you’ll be fine for a while.”
She turns to leave, and panic washes over me like an angry wave. “Wait. Mom!”
Glancing over her shoulder, she gives me the most distasteful look and sighs. “What!”
“Please? Just one? I just… feel uncomfortable.” I fold my arms over my chest. I can guarantee, the girls at school didn’t have this hard of a time trying to get a training bra. Why is it like this for me?
Why?
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll ask some of the girls if any of their kids have any hand-me-downs they want to get rid of.”
I release the breath I was holding. “Thank you.” Something is better than nothing, I guess.
Once she leaves, I turn around and head back to my room. Falling back onto my bed, I stare at my peeling, yellowed ceiling and wish for time to pass. I wish for enough time to pass where I can move out of this park and make something of myself. I don’t know what that’s going to be yet, but I imagine myself traveling the world. Seeing how people live outside of The Grove. Being able to visit all the things I’ve learned about in Geography and Social Studies class at school.
The Grand Canyon.
Niagra Falls.
The Eiffel Tower.
Sigh.
Yeah right, in my dreams. I’ll end up living the rest of my life in this trailer, with my luck.
When I hear shouting outside my window, my lips crack into a smile at my friends’ voices. Some new guy moved in last week and has fit right in with the guys. I haven’t met him yet, but every time I go outside, I can feel his eyes boring into me.
Curiosity gets the best of me. I sit up and walk over to my window. They laugh as they run around, throwing firecrackers at each other’s feet. Every time a pop sounds, I wince.
I totally forgot, it’s the Fourth of July tonight.
Shit.
Not like anything big happens in The Grove anyway. The city is far too poor to light off fireworks, so if anyone wants to see a show by the city, they either have to go to the next town over or go over to Wisconsin. The crazy fireworks