SCARS

Hidden Moments

Powder had always been observant, in the way that children often are, noticing things adults didn't see or perhaps chose to ignore. She watched the world with wide eyes, soaking in the details, the small moments that others might overlook. And lately, she had noticed something different about Vi and Cal. It had been going on for about a week.

It wasn't anything obvious, not at first. But there was a new softness in the way Vi spoke to Cal, a gentleness that Powder wasn't used to seeing in her sister. Vi was always strong, always tough—the protector. She could be fierce, sometimes even scary, but not with Cal, not anymore. Powder saw it in the way Vi's voice softened when she said Cal's name, in the way her hand lingered just a second longer on Cal's arm.

Powder didn't understand it at first. She thought maybe she was imagining things. But then there were the looks, the little glances they exchanged when they thought no one was watching. Powder caught them once or twice, the way Vi's eyes would light up when Calypso walked into the room, the way Cal would blush and look away, a small smile playing on her lips.

It made Powder curious, this change in them. She wondered what it meant, why they seemed so different now. They still included her in everything, but there was something new between them, something that made her feel like an outsider looking in. Not in a bad way—she didn't feel left out—but in a way that made her think that whatever was happening between Vi and Cal was special, something just for them.

One evening, Powder sat in her usual spot in the living space, tinkering with a little gadget she had found in the scrap yard. It was old and broken, but she liked the challenge of fixing it, of making something work again. Suddenly she glanced at Vi's bedroom door at the sound of laughter. The door had been left open just a bit and Powder could just slightly see inside the room.

Powder crouched low in her spot on the couch, her small frame hidden behind the slightly ajar door to Vi's room. Powder's heart raced, though she wasn't sure why—maybe it was because she knew she shouldn't be spying.

Inside Vi's room, Powder could see that Vi was tossing a ball in the air, catching it with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before. Cal had a book in her lap, but she wasn't reading it; she was watching Vi, her eyes soft and warm.

Powder paused, her small fingers stilling on the gadget. She watched as Cal set the book aside and said something to Vi, something quiet that Powder couldn't hear. Vi stopped tossing the ball, her head turning to look at Cal. There was a long moment of silence between them, and then Vi smiled—really smiled, the kind of smile that made her whole face light up. Powder's heart gave a little skip at the sight of it. She hadn't seen Vi smile like that in a long time.

Then Vi said something back, and Calypso's face broke into a grin so wide that Powder couldn't help but smile, too. Whatever they were talking about, it made them both happy, and seeing them like that made Powder feel warm inside, like she was seeing a secret, something special and new that she wasn't sure she fully understood.

A part of her wanted to ask them what was going on, to understand what had changed between them. But another part of her, the part that was growing up faster than she realized, told her to leave it alone, to let them have this moment to themselves. So she didn't say anything. She just watched as Vi reached out and tucked Calypso's hair behind her ear, and Cal blushed.

Powder went back to her gadget, her fingers moving nimbly over the pieces as she worked to put it back together. But every now and then, she glanced up at Vi and Cal, watching them with a quiet curiosity, trying to piece together the puzzle of what was happening between them. And though she didn't have all the answers, she knew one thing for sure: whatever it was, it was good. It made Vi happy, and that was all that mattered to Powder.