Chapter Text
The sound of Lucy’s footsteps echoed through the tiny apartment, a rhythmic reminder that Emmy’s world was never really quiet. But as she stood in front of the mirror, Emmy could only hear her own thoughts, buzzing louder than her sister’s chatter. It was the first day of sixth grade, and nothing about her reflection looked right. She tugged at her shirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, as if a perfect outfit could somehow make everything else easier.
She wasn’t nervous, not really. Or maybe she was. Emmy wasn’t sure. There was a difference between the excitement of a new beginning and the dread of being noticed—or worse, not noticed at all.
Her mother’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Emmy! You’re going to be late if you don’t hurry!”
“I’m coming,” Emmy mumbled, though her gaze remained fixed on the mirror. Her dark brown hair hung limply over her shoulders, and her eyes, big and wide, seemed to be asking her a question she couldn’t answer. What are you so afraid of?
“Emmy!” Lucy’s voice pierced through her thoughts. Her eight-year-old sister poked her head into the room, her blond curls bouncing as she grinned. “Are you excited? I bet sixth grade’s going to be so cool! I can’t wait until I’m in middle school!”
Emmy gave a half-smile. “Yeah, maybe.”
Lucy skipped away, oblivious to the knot of anxiety tightening in Emmy’s stomach. Emmy knew her sister would thrive in middle school. Lucy had a way of fitting in everywhere she went—bold, loud, and unafraid of the spotlight. Emmy was her opposite: quiet, always lingering on the edges of a group, hoping to blend in but also secretly wanting to stand out, even if she didn’t know how.
“Emmy, let’s go!” her mom called again. Emmy snapped out of her thoughts and grabbed her backpack, heading into the kitchen where her mom was packing lunches for both her and Lucy. Her mom, Rachel Greene, looked as tired as always, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun, still in her nurse scrubs from the night shift.
“Ready for the big day?” her mom asked, handing Emmy her lunch bag with a tired smile.
“I guess,” Emmy shrugged.
“You’ll do great, sweetheart.” Her mom gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before turning to Lucy. “You’re going to have to take the bus with your sister today. I’ve got to get to the hospital early.”
“Okay, Mom!” Lucy said brightly, already bounding out the door.
Emmy followed, her mind already drifting to what the day ahead would be like. Sixth grade. It felt different from elementary school, like there was this invisible line she’d crossed overnight, separating her from the person she used to be. The hallways of Eastview Middle School would be buzzing with kids who suddenly seemed older, cooler, like they’d all figured out something she hadn’t.
The bus ride was uneventful, Lucy chatting the whole time about third grade, but Emmy wasn’t really listening. Her mind kept jumping ahead to the classroom, to the faces of her classmates, to the question of whether anything had changed. Would her friends still be the same? Would she?
When they finally arrived at school, the building loomed larger than she remembered. Emmy stepped off the bus, taking in the scene of familiar faces, some chatting in tight groups, others waving at each other as if they’d been apart for years, not just a summer.
She spotted her best friend, Carly, standing by the front steps. Carly was talking animatedly to a couple of other girls, her hands gesturing wildly. Emmy hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should wait for Carly to see her or just walk up. Before she could decide, Carly noticed her and waved her over with a big grin.
“Emmy! There you are! I was just telling the girls about my trip to Florida. It was amazing! You have to see the pictures!”
Emmy smiled, though her insides felt tight. Carly always had stories—exciting, adventurous ones that made her seem like she belonged to a different world. Emmy’s summer, by contrast, had been quiet, filled with drawing and reading and hanging out with her family. Nothing worth telling, nothing that would hold anyone’s attention.
“Sounds awesome,” Emmy said, trying to sound enthusiastic. She joined the circle of girls, but she already felt a step behind, like she was playing catch-up in a game where she didn’t know the rules.
As they headed inside, the noise of the crowded hallways swallowed Emmy’s thoughts. Kids were laughing, shouting, slamming locker doors. Everything felt big and loud and overwhelming. She kept close to Carly, nodding at familiar faces but not saying much.
Their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Klein, was already standing by the door, greeting students as they filed in. Emmy slipped into a seat by the window, glad to have a moment of quiet. She gazed outside at the view of the city, her hand instinctively reaching for her pencil to sketch the skyline in the corner of her notebook. Drawing always helped her focus, helped her feel like she had control over something, even if it was just lines on a page.
The day passed in a blur of introductions and classroom rules, but Emmy’s thoughts stayed on the fringes, watching everyone else with a kind of detached curiosity. Carly seemed to fit back in effortlessly, laughing and chatting like nothing had changed. Emmy couldn’t help but wonder why it felt so different for her.
At lunch, Emmy sat with Carly and a few other girls, but she didn’t say much. She kept her gaze down, picking at her food while the conversation swirled around her. She felt invisible, like an observer in her own life, like she was watching everything happen from a distance but couldn’t quite find a way to jump in.
After school, Emmy walked home alone, Lucy having gone to a friend’s house. The city streets were busy, cars honking, people rushing by. Emmy liked the noise of the city—it gave her something to focus on that wasn’t her own tangled thoughts.
When she got home, her older brother Jason was in the living room, tossing a soccer ball from hand to hand. Jason was sixteen, tall and athletic, with the kind of easy confidence Emmy envied. He glanced up as she walked in.
“Hey, Em. How was school?”
“It was fine,” Emmy said, shrugging off her backpack.
“Just fine?” Jason grinned. “Come on, sixth grade’s supposed to be exciting, right?”
“I guess.”
Jason raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. He tossed the soccer ball in the air and caught it. “You want to kick the ball around later? I need to practice for tryouts.”
“Maybe,” Emmy mumbled, though she knew she probably wouldn’t. Jason’s world—sports, friends, popularity—felt so far removed from hers that she didn’t know how to bridge the gap.
Her mom wasn’t home yet, so Emmy headed to her room, dropping her backpack on the floor. She flopped onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The first day of sixth grade had come and gone, and she wasn’t sure if anything had really changed. She still felt like she was floating, untethered, unsure of where she fit.
Reaching for her notebook, Emmy began to sketch again—this time, a tangled mess of lines that somehow felt like a mirror of her thoughts. She wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be, but it didn’t matter. It was hers, something she could control, something that made sense, even if everything else didn’t.