Chapter Text
Emmy didn’t want to go to school.
The sun was barely up, just the faintest sliver of light trying to slip through the blinds. She could already hear the sounds of the city waking up—the distant honk of a car, someone’s trash can rattling down the street, the hum of morning commuters starting their day. She pulled her covers tighter around herself, staring at the ceiling. Why did the second day always feel worse than the first?
Her mother had already left for her shift at the hospital before Emmy had even crawled out of bed. Not that Emmy could blame her—she knew her mom worked hard. But today of all days, Emmy wanted to see her, to ask her… well, everything. About Dad. About why she always felt this gnawing hole where something—someone—should be. She hadn’t had the courage to ask before, and now the chance had slipped away again, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
Lucy was already in the kitchen when Emmy shuffled in, yawning. Her younger sister was always the morning person, chattering away at the breakfast table, her bright, cheerful energy in stark contrast to Emmy’s glum mood. Lucy had her toast in hand, excitedly talking about some new game she and her friends had planned for recess.
Emmy barely registered any of it.
“Are you even listening?” Lucy asked, throwing her a sidelong glance.
“Hm? Yeah, sure.” Emmy poked at her cereal. She couldn’t care less about whatever Lucy was saying. Not today. Not when her thoughts were already a whirlwind.
Lucy frowned but didn’t press further. She was used to her older sister’s quiet moods, but today something felt heavier in the air between them.
By the time they were waiting at the bus stop, Emmy’s nerves were at their peak. Her stomach twisted in knots, but not because of school. It was everything else—the questions about her dad, the way she never seemed to fit in with her friends like Lucy did so effortlessly. Emmy felt like a puzzle with missing pieces, while Lucy, with her easy laughter and endless enthusiasm, seemed to have everything perfectly in place.
The bus pulled up with a screech of its brakes, and they both climbed on, Emmy sliding into the window seat, Lucy next to her. The bus was crowded with the usual chatter, but Emmy barely noticed. She stared out the window, her mind racing. Why couldn’t she just…be normal? Like Lucy? Like Jason, her older brother, who seemed to glide through life with all the confidence in the world.
Lucy’s voice, high and insistent, cut through Emmy’s thoughts. “Hey, did you hear about the new art club? You should join! You’re so good at drawing, Emmy, it’d be perfect for you.”
“I’m not joining,” Emmy snapped, harsher than she intended.
Lucy blinked, taken aback. “Why not? It could be fun—”
“Just drop it, okay?”
The hurt look on Lucy’s face made Emmy’s stomach churn with guilt, but she couldn’t bring herself to apologize. Not when everything felt so overwhelming, so… wrong. She turned her face toward the window, blinking away the sting in her eyes. She didn’t want Lucy to see the tears building. Her thoughts swirled, tangled in a mess of frustration, sadness, and anger.
When they finally arrived at school, Emmy bolted from her seat as soon as the bus doors opened. She didn’t look back at Lucy, didn’t even care to see if her sister was following. She just needed space—needed to breathe. Her chest was tight, and she felt like she might explode if she didn’t get away from everything, from everyone.
She hurried down the hallway, past the other kids filing into classrooms, and ducked into the girls’ bathroom. The door closed behind her with a loud, echoing clang, and finally, she let herself fall apart.
In the quiet of the bathroom, Emmy locked herself in a stall, sinking to the floor. Her hands shook as she buried her face in her knees. All the emotions she’d been holding back came pouring out, and the tears she’d been fighting on the bus finally spilled over.
She was angry at her mom for never talking about Dad. Angry at herself for not being able to ask. And so, so sad. It wasn’t just the absence of her father; it was everything. She didn’t know where she belonged. She didn’t know who she was.
Would finding out about her dad help? Would it fill the empty space inside her?
The thought gave her the smallest flicker of hope, but just as quickly, it was snuffed out by the memory of her mom’s cold avoidance of the topic. Every time Emmy had asked, her mom had changed the subject, leaving Emmy with more questions than answers. She felt trapped, like she was stuck in a maze with no way out.
The sound of the bathroom door creaking open made Emmy freeze. Footsteps echoed against the tiled floor, and through the crack in the stall, she saw a pair of familiar sneakers.
“Emmy? You in here?” Carly’s voice was gentle, concerned.
Emmy wiped at her eyes hastily, not wanting Carly to see her like this. But it was too late—the door to the stall swung open, and there was Carly, her expression soft with worry.
“Hey,” Carly said, crouching down beside her. “What’s going on? You’ve been gone a while. Mrs. Henderson sent me to find you.”
Emmy couldn’t even bring herself to look up. Her voice cracked when she finally spoke. “I just… I don’t know. Everything’s wrong.”
Carly sat down next to her on the cold bathroom floor, not saying anything at first. She didn’t push for answers, didn’t try to fix anything. She was just… there. After a moment, she spoke softly. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But I’m here, okay?”
Emmy nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying again. Carly didn’t need to say anything more—just her presence was enough to help Emmy feel a little less lost.
“I’ll walk with you back to class when you’re ready,” Carly added after a few moments of silence. “We can be late together.”
Emmy gave a weak smile. “Thanks.”
As they sat there, the weight on Emmy’s chest began to ease just a little. She wasn’t fixed—nothing was fixed—but at least she wasn’t alone. The doubts and fears still lingered, still clung to her like a shadow. But with Carly beside her, she could push them down, just for now. Enough to make it through the day.