The Scars That Make Us (Second Generation Book 3)

Chapter 16

CATARINA

I quickly hang up the phone just as my door swings open and my sister, Tabby, walks in. She plops down on my bed and gestures around, “What kind of tornado ran through this place?”

“Hi, Tabs. You know it is usually common courtesy to knock before you enter somebody’s room.”

“Oh please, what was I going to interrupt, you scribbling in that notebook?”

“I don’t scribble in a notebook. I’m writing and it is important  writing that I do.”

“Whatever you say. Seriously though, what is going on in here?”

“Have you ever started looking for something and then you get super distracted by something else and two hours later you’re really far off your original path?”

“Oh God, yeah anything I try to organize my Christmas decorations.”

“Mmhmm, so I’m pretty much there now. I was looking for a specific dress and then I started pulling out dresses and then I moved onto casual clothing and yeah pretty much my entire closet is sitting in my bedroom now.”

“And what is your plan?”

“I’m going to take these formal dresses down to the church tomorrow. They always do that prom thing for low-income families where the girls can get prom dresses. I mean, it is ridiculous to hold onto so many. Then the rest of these things I’m going to donate to the thrift store. Mom made this big deal about it when I told her and now Margot is turning it into a whole thing instead of just me dropping things off and leaving.”

“Ooo, that’s a good idea. Maybe I should pull some things too and we can go together. That would be great coverage for dad.” Tabby pulls out her phone and starts typing away. She’s probably contacting Margot to plan something. She’s basically a mini-Mom, always turning the simplest gestures into something that can be spun into something for my dad’s benefit.

I ignore her while she’s going her thing. This makes things a bit more complicated because I was trying to pack a few bags, but she’d ask too many questions, so instead, I just go back into looking at what I could donate. I figured that even under the best circumstances, there is no way I need to take all these clothes with me, so why not give them to those who can use them more?

“Alright, she’s going to get a camera crew to meet us there.”

“Doesn’t that kind of make the point of the donation irrelevant when you have a camera there?”

“Oh stop being like that, sis. Anywho, get dressed, we’re going for dinner.”

“We’re...what?”

“Dinner at the Farm House so you’ll need to dress up a bit. Maybe one of those long-sleeved wrap dresses.”

“You realize you can’t just come in here and demand that I go to dinner with you, right?”

“Oh my god, Catarina,” Tabby stands up and reaches out for my arms, and pulls me up. “Can you just please do this with me? Don’t be fighting me so much.”

“Okay fine. Give me like ten minutes to get ready and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Yipee! Remember, it’s cold so long sleeves.”

I roll my eyes at step into my closet to see what I have. Tabby and my mom are the worst when it comes to my scaring. I know that they don’t want anybody to see the scars and start asking questions, but it needs to be my choice and not their insistence. I usually wear chunky bracelets anyway for that exact point. Although a person would have to be pretty close to even see them because my parents spent a lot of money making sure the best doctors and plastic surgeons took care of me. Because of course they did couldn’t have anybody knowing your daughter was depressed and cut herself.