The thing about my dad: he’s nice, but I’ve always been…I don’t know. Scared isn’t the right word. It’s just easy to get on his wrong side, and then good luck to you. It’s because we’re too similar, my mom used to say. Two strong personalities. Both of us with our likes and dislikes and no room for compromise.
I don’t know why my mom thought that. I compromise all the freaking time.
I guess it was nice of him to let me keep the dog, though. We don’t have all that much money anymore. And he doesn’t have all that much free time. It was a nice thing he did, and he did it for me. Thanks to Rachel.
Rachel.
Okay, so, Rachel is super weird. But I like her.
This sounds so lame. But she’s kind of a…friend?
She has all sorts of ideas about me and my life and my dad, that’s for sure. But at the end of the day, she’s not bad. She’s just been through some stuff, I guess, and when you go through some stuff, you’re allowed to be a little weird. And she saved Rosa. I’ll never forget that.
So I gave her one of my pins. It was nothing, but she liked the pins, and that was something I could give her. Plus I wanted her to get out of my room. I knew if I gave her the pin, she’d leave.
I like Rachel, but sometimes I also like to be alone. My mom used to tell me that was okay. She used to tell me it was another thing me and my dad have in common.
It’s nice to have a friend—if I can call Rachel that, and I’m not totally sure I can, because honestly, she’s kind of old—but it’s also a problem.
It makes me feel like I can talk to her.
It makes me want to talk to her.
It makes me want to tell her things I haven’t told anyone else.