Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
BREAKFAST WAS A TUMULTUOUS AFFAIR the following morning, something the Reid family was well-acquainted with. It typically consisted of Eurydice's complaints concerning their aging coffee maker or faulty microwave, Scott (who after twenty-three years of marriage knew not to cross his wife during her moods) distracting himself from the family with the newspaper or the radio, Kevin hurriedly wolfing down a blueberry muffin before commencing his hour-and-a-half commute to Indianapolis, and Amara quietly eating a bowl of cereal – usually fruit loops or cocoa puffs – and occupying herself with anything that wasn't her family. Today was no different, at least from a distance.
Amara struggled enough at reading social cues, but she didn't think even any normal person could find a way to say, it's such a beautiful day today, oh, by the way, I saw a weird man without a face last night! amid a typical conversation. During dinner last night her family was far too focused on Benny Hammond's supposed suicide, and when Eurydice finally noticed Amara's quietness she had claimed she was nervous about her English essay. Even if she could somehow get the words out, her family would likely dismiss what she saw as a figment of her imagination, not unlike the imaginary friends she had surrounded herself with during her youth in Cleveland, where every real person knew to avoid her at all costs. That didn't make sense though, because all of her past imaginary friends had been sparkly and encouraging and 100% perfect.
The figure she'd come across had been beyond anything her mind could create.
"Everything alright?" Scott interrupted Amara from her thoughts, concernedly looking at her from over his reading glasses.
"Me?" Amara cleared her throat, composing herself. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine." She was certain he didn't believe her, but she refrained from saying anything else, refocusing her attention on her breakfast.
As she biked to school, she realized the only way to be completely certain that what she saw wasn't simply a person distorted by her bike handle was to go back to the woods near Steve Harrington's house. Sure, it was risky, but Amara was impulsive and often made decisions without thinking them through completely. It didn't help that the figure occupied most of her mind, blocking out everything else. Any other person would have brushed it aside, but not her.
"Hey dingus, are you alright there?"
Amara snapped herself out of her mind and back into the school's hallway, turning to face Robin. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said for the second time that morning. Robin didn't seem convinced, for she could read Amara better than anyone else, even her own family. However, she didn't question it, believing her best friend's nerves were likely a result of their upcoming history test on World War I.
"Glad to hear," Robin beamed, playfully nudging Amara's arm with her own. "So Beth Wildfire told me earlier that there's a last-minute soccer practice scheduled for after school. You know, while everyone is watching that stupid basketball game. So you're gonna have to stick around for an extra hour."
