It started in kindergarten. The b's and the d's, the c's and the o's. Prescription glasses. Contacts. I needed them anyway. But then I had headaches. They brought it down. The books got thicker, overweight and obese. Guessing. Multiple choice. Voice typing. Grammar is optional anyway.
Max was the one in the wheelchair. He was the one they needed to pay attention to.
Then he died.
They accounted it all to depression. That's why she doesn't try. That's why the books are losing weight. If the time was low, I'd fill in bubbles. Like coloring. I missed coloring, come to think of it.
Then it was because of the new school, new state. That's why. That's all that made sense.
Then it was me not trying, because we'd run out of reasons.
Now, Alex finished telling Dad about the Stacks incident, and his eyes were scrunched tight, and he made a phone call. And there would be another test. Finally, a test I would pass with flying colors.
YOU ARE READING
Me, Myself, and I
Teen FictionGraduating from high school was supposed to be Julia's fresh start: a way to become more than just a famous therapist's daughter and a dead kid's sister. But when a mysterious letter shows up with her mother's name on it, Julia's unreadable history...
