Built For Her

Chapter 1

I kept my head down, but it didn't do much. When you’re five-foot-eight in a hallway full of girls who seem to stop growing at five-four, you don't just blend into the crowd. You’re like a lighthouse that nobody actually wants to use for directions. I felt every inch of myself as I moved toward my locker, my shoulders pulled in so tight they ached. I wanted to be small. I wanted to be one of those girls who could hide behind a textbook, but instead, I just felt like a giant thumb sticking out in a room of fingers.

The strap of my backpack dug into my shoulder. I’d spent twenty minutes this morning trying to make this oversized vintage sweater look "cool" and "baggy." I’d seen it on a Pinterest board for "tall girl aesthetic." But as I passed the glass of the trophy case, I saw the truth. I didn't look like a model off-duty. I looked like a lumpy tent. My hair, which I’d tried to curl into those effortless waves, was already starting to go flat and frizzy from the humidity.

"He's coming," someone whispered nearby.

My heart didn't just beat; it slammed against my ribs like it was trying to break out. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. I could hear his voice. It was deep, smooth, and always sounded like he was sharing a joke that only the popular kids were allowed to hear.

Caleb.

He was the kind of handsome that made you feel like you were looking at a movie screen instead of a real person. He was tall, too...the only person in this hallway who could actually look me in the eye without tilting his head back. But he never did.

I stopped walking. I told myself to say something. Just a "hey" or a "morning." My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I was a statue. I was a placeholder for a person. As he got closer, laughing at something his friend Jace said, I felt my face get hot. This was it. This was the moment.

He passed by.

He didn't look. He didn't even flinch like he saw a person in his peripheral vision. His shoulder brushed against my sweater...that lumpy, stupid sweater...and he just kept moving. It was like I was air. I wasn't even a girl to him; I was just an obstacle in the hallway that he navigated around without thinking.

"Nice sweater, Casey," Jace snickered as he followed Caleb. "Did you steal that from a mascot?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I just stood there, staring at the back of Caleb’s head until they turned the corner. My throat felt tight. I reached up and tucked a piece of frizzy hair behind my ear, my fingers shaking. My best effort was mid. It was always mid. No matter how much I tried to dress up or fix my face, I was just the tall girl who didn't know what to do with her arms.

The bus ride home was long. I sat in the back, staring at my phone, scrolling through photos of girls who looked perfect without even trying. By the time I walked through our front door, I was exhausted.

The house was a mess, as usual. It wasn't a big house, and with four of us living there, it felt like the walls were constantly closing in. My eldest sister, Sarah, was sitting at the kitchen table with a pile of papers in front of her. She looked stressed. Her makeup was smeared, and she was biting her thumbnail so hard it looked painful.

"Mom’s late again," Sarah said without looking up. "The electric bill is up sixty bucks. I don't know how we’re going to do this month."

"I can get a job," I said, dropping my bag on the floor.

Sarah finally looked at me, her eyes tired. "Casey, you’re eighteen. You need to focus on your finals. I’ll figure it out."

My younger sister, Maya, came running into the kitchen, screaming about a lost shoe. The TV was blaring in the living room. It was loud, it was cramped, and it smelled like the cheap floral detergent Mom bought to hide the fact that the house was old. I hated it. I hated how small everything felt, except for me.

"Where is Mom?" I asked, opening the fridge. There was half a carton of milk and some leftover pasta that looked questionable.

"She’s in her room," Sarah sighed, rubbing her forehead. "She said she had a headache. She’s been acting weird all week. Like she’s waiting for a bomb to go off."

I went to the stove and started heating up some water. I wanted to go to my room and cry about Caleb, but there was no space for that here. In this house, you didn't get to have feelings; you just had chores and bills.

The front door opened, and Mom walked in. She wasn't at work; she’d just been out. She looked pale. Her skin had a grayish tint to it, and her hands were stuffed deep into her coat pockets. She didn't say hello. She just walked straight to the table and sat down across from Sarah.

"We need to talk," Mom said. Her voice was flat.

"If it’s about the car, I know," Sarah started, but Mom shook her head.

"No. It’s not the car."

Just then, the doorbell rang. It was a sharp, aggressive sound that made Maya jump. We all froze. Nobody ever came to our house this late unless it was a debt collector or someone looking for Sarah’s ex.

"I'll get it," I said.

I walked to the door, my long legs taking me there in three steps. I pulled the door open, expecting to see a man in a suit or a neighbor complaining about the TV volume.

But it wasn't a man.

Standing on our porch was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Her skin was a deep, rich black, smooth and glowing even under the crappy yellow porch light. She was wearing a simple denim jacket and braids that fell perfectly over her shoulders. She was smiling, but her eyes looked nervous.

"Hi," the girl said. Her voice was bright, full of life, and totally different from the tired voices in our house.

I stared at her. I felt even more lumpy and tall than I did at school. "Can I help you?"

The girl looked past me into the kitchen. Her smile faltered for a second when she saw my mom standing up from the table. My mom looked like she had seen a ghost. Her face went completely white, and she gripped the back of the chair so hard her knuckles turned into little white stones.

The girl looked back at me, then at my mom.

"I think you're the one I'm looking for," the girl said softly.

Behind me, I heard a loud clatter. I turned around. My mom had knocked her dinner plate off the table. It lay in pieces on the floor, the pasta splattered everywhere. Mom didn't even look at the mess. She was just staring at the girl at the door, her mouth hanging open.

"Mom?" Sarah asked, her voice shaking. "Who is this?"

Mom didn't answer. She couldn't. She looked like she was about to faint.

The girl on the porch took a small step forward, crossing the threshold into our cramped, messy hallway. She looked at me, and for the first time today, someone really saw me. But it wasn't the way Caleb looked through me. She looked at me like she knew exactly who I was.

"I'm Jade," the girl said, looking from me to Sarah to the little one, Maya. Then she looked back at my mom. "I’m your daughter."

The silence that followed was so heavy it felt like it was pushing the air out of the room. I looked at my mom, then at this beautiful girl who looked nothing like us, and then back at the broken plate on the floor.

My life was already a mess. I was the invisible giant, the mid girl with the shaky hands and the unrequited crush. But as I looked at Jade, I realized the "bomb" Mom had been waiting for had finally gone off. And I was standing right in the middle of the blast zone.

I didn't say anything. I just watched as my mom finally crumbled, her knees hitting the floor right next to the broken ceramic. The world felt like it was tilting, and for the first time in my life, being 5'8" didn't make me feel powerful. It just made me feel like I had a longer way to fall.