I WASN’T INVITED

I managed to keep a poker face the whole way home. But when I got there, I headed straight upstairs. My eyes started prickling again even before I got to my room.

I opened my closet door and stared at my to-do list: 4. Decide what to get Tony for his birthday party.

I guess Tony had decided for me, so I got a pencil and crossed it off.

I stared at the piece of paper and rubbed my wet cheeks with the back of my hand. Stupid tears. Stupid Tony!

I imagined him with a stack of invitations. Maybe his mom said, “What about that lovely girl Eliza? The one who helped us with the cupcakes that one day. Aren’t you going to invite her?” And Tony lying, “Nah. She moved away.” I thought about how all the kids would show up, including Annie, and how everyone would get to make their own cakes and sing “Happy Birthday” and . . . and. . . .

A sob snuck up on me and made it hard to breathe. The more I tried to fight back the tears, the harder and faster they came. After a while, I just gave in, sat down on my bedroom floor, and bawled my eyes out.

When I was done, my head ached, and my arms and legs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each. I climbed into bed and even though it was the afternoon, I pulled the covers over my head. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Mom was knocking on my door.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“It’s open,” I croaked and then rubbed my puffy eyes.

Mom came in and put an ibuprofen tablet and a glass of water on my nightstand.

“How you doing, sweetie?” she asked, settling on the edge of my bed. “Let’s see your braces.”

I sat up and showed her my mouth full of metal.

“Nice. I like the purple bands,” Mom said. “How do they feel?”

I had a sudden urge to hug my mom, so I wrapped my arms around her neck.

“Poor Eliza,” she said, patting my back. “Your mouth hurts a lot, huh?”

It wasn’t my mouth that hurt, but the truth was stuck in my throat.

“It’s okay,” Mom told me in a soothing voice. “Everything will be okay.”

I nodded and let her hug me tighter.