XXVIII

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I was up at four in the morning from another bad dream - I was having them a lot lately and I didn't know why. The last time I was plagued by nightmares was when I was six or something, I remember because I would refuse sleeping on my own. Jordan or Tristan - and on very special occasions even mom - used to tuck me in my own bed but somewhere in the middle of the night I would always end up in Noah's bed.

I couldn't remember what those dreams were about. I feel like a part of me has suppressed them in a box at the far back of my head, I couldn't reach it. Maybe it was for the better that I couldn't remember ...

I grabbed my phone and looked at the time, a quarter after five. I sighed and flipped over on my stomach. Trying to go back to sleep and catch another few hours wasn't an option - every time I closed my eyes I saw my mother's face. That look on her face, she looked so lost and sad.

I was angry with her, so angry for using her own daughter to get what she wanted. I couldn't fathom the thought that she could be so ignorant to the point that it completely surpassed her common sense. I was only thirteen but even I knew that she crossed the line. You'd think that after all the shit she went through, she'd know better. But I was wrong, I was wrong about so many things and for a second I thought that maybe I wasn't that much different from her. I had my fair share of stupid things I did, and I would be lying if I said I always used my common sense.

Like mother, like daughter.

Not wanting to think about the similarities between us anymore, I dragged myself out of bed. I decided to take a long shower - I could've taken a bath since no one was up yet but that pool incident was still too fresh in my mind.

After the shower I wiped away the damp on the mirror and I couldn't help but stare at my own reflection. Even though I got my period a few days ago, I still felt and looked the same. Wasn't puberty supposed to change your body or something? I still looked as flat as a surfboard and if it weren't for my face, people would probably mistake me for a boy.

I sucked my cheeks in, wondering when I'd lose all that baby fat and have cheekbones. I was the only one in the house with freckles peppered on the bridge of my nose and underneath my eyes. Noah used to have freckles too but as he got older they just disappeared. Freckles made me look younger than my age and even though Tristan thought they were adorable, I didn't want to be adorable anymore. Adorable is for toddlers. I wanted to be cute or pretty, you know, something that didn't sound like you were a child or a puppy.

I dropped my towel and took in the rest of my body. As I looked closer, I started noticing little, subtle changes. Even though I still didn't eat much, I felt a bit fuller, not much but enough to make my hips look filled out more if that made any sense. Maybe I didn't entirely look like a boy ...

And then there was the body hair that just grossed me out. I was lucky I was blonde and it wasn't that visible but still. Why do girls even need hair down there? Why do girls even need hair at all? The only hair I wanted was the hair on top of my head and my eyebrows.

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