Trembling With the Strings

The Paper Boy

“Is that Darius?” I asked, pointing at the picture of Marcy and two boys.

“No, that’s Dante.” She shook her head and pointed at a boy that looked very similar to her, only with more testosterone. “That is my demented twin brother.” She had this insane grin plastered to her face.

I forced a smile. He certainly looked arrogant, and I wasn’t looking forward to his birthday at all. Not even a whole day had gone by, and I already missed my brothers and Katie so much even if she hated me.

“What about your family? Do you have any brothers?” Marcy asked suddenly, setting the framed photograph back down on her walnut desk. I nodded, grabbing my picture out of my suitcase.

“I have three, actually. Marcus is only thirteen, Johnny is barely eleven, and...Marty is six.” I took in a shaky breath. “And I have an older sister, Katelynn. She’s seventeen.”

“Wow! That must be interesting.” She smiled brilliantly. “Maybe you could have them over sometime. I bet you miss them.”

“Yeah. I miss them a lot.” I put the picture down beside me on the bed and looked at my feet.

“Yeah, I mean I can’t stand my brothers, but I know I’d miss them eventually if they were eaten alive by bears. Later maybe you could call them if you want.” I threw my arms around her.

“Oh, thank you!” She giggled.

“Yeah, I’m amazing, I know. But Dad told me to go over the party plans with you...”

“Ugh!” I stopped hugging her and sulked.

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to curse anyone to a life of Darius, but I can’t go against Daddy.” She sighed. “But you’ll have to borrow one of my dresses—we can’t have you wearing rags like that. We have to doll you up, girlie!”

Without warning, Marcy dragged me into her huge walk-in closet. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor: I’d never seen so many clothes—especially not girl clothes! The clothes I had worn were boy clothes so they could be handed down to my brothers.

Marcy giggled at my reaction.

“Pick out any dress you want, Gracie.”

I would’ve protested, but she left before I could say a word. I rifled through everything and it was all so gorgeous, but I fell in love with a deep blue dress. It had a decorative black trim on the top and a matching black bow on the waistline. It got slightly wider at the bottom and had more black lace trim lining the bottom as well. It wasn’t too long, but it wasn’t too short: It reached my knees. I tried it on and only fell more in love with it. Unfortunately I had to keep my jacket on over it so Marcy wouldn’t see the physical signs of tough love that my father had given me.

“Oh my goodness!”

I turned around, grinning. She rushed up to me, stunned.

“You look so pretty when you’re not dressed like a paper boy!” She lightly brought a finger absentmindedly to her lips, as if she were in deep thought. “Know what? Keep it. It looks way better on you.”

“Oh my God! Really?” I squealed, hugging the life out of her. She pried me off and dragged me to her vanity dresser. She pushed me down onto the seat and yanked out so much makeup. I sat hopelessly as she treated me as if I were the new doll she’d been dying to play with and her daddy had just bought it for her. I didn’t know half of the stuff she was putting all over my face, but when she was done I didn’t recognize myself!

My hair was up in a bun, but some random strands of hair were hanging loose, yet curly. My eyelashes were longer and fuller (presumably she’d put a load of mascara on me), I had eyeliner on, and she’d given me eye shadow, too, as well as cover-up. I’d never felt so...girlie.

“Darius will love it!” She brought her hands together for a single clap. I groaned. I’d almost forgotten that small detail. “Oh, he’s not that bad, Grace.”

There was a knock on the door and I suddenly found myself locked in the closet!