Nana set up separate rooms for us in their brick Victorian, but Laurel and I insisted on sharing the single bedroom in 'the tower' as we used to call it. It was just a cylindrical turret that jutted out on the eastern wing of the mansion. 

The massive house was the jewel of the prettiest street in town, Summer Avenue. It looked like something out of 'Anne of Green Gables'. Laurel and I both decided to watch that beloved series over the weekend, hoping to escape into something from our childhood.

"Suzanne, baby," Nana said, running her fingers through my red streaked hair. "What happened here?"

"Smells like teen spirit," Aunt Rachel muttered as she passed us in the upstairs hallway, lugging a suitcase. She winked at me and I couldn't help smiling back. Aunt Rachel was always our ally, come hell or high water.

I could see the wheels turning behind Nana's brown eyes as she considered the most polite way to suggest a change. Instead of it bothering me, it made me love her more. It felt normal. And nothing had felt normal in so long.

"It's okay, Nan," I said, throwing my arms around her and giving my most charming smile. "It was just an experiment. I'll go back to the natural shade soon."

Nan's concern melted as she smoothed a wrinkled hand over my cheek. She had always called me her Rainbow Baby. After Laurel was born, our parents had suffered several miscarriages and even a stillbirth. I was adopted soon after and brought life back into the family, according to my Nana. Laurel was Pop's favorite, but I had Nana wrapped around my finger.

Laurel and Pop heaved the television onto the sturdy bookcase that sat between two windows in the circular room. Pop brushed his large hands together and nodded towards Laurel.

"Looks like it'll be just fine there, as long as there isn't an earthquake," Pop announced.

"Yeah, we've had enough of those lately," I grumbled as I opened up a box of books. Pop didn't hear me, but Laurel shot me a warning glare. I stuck out my tongue in return.

Pop sighed in the awkward silence. Aunt Rachel and Nana had asked us how we were doing in hushed tones, but Pop hadn't mentioned Dad yet. He was the kind of man who would ignore the elephant in the room till the damn animal was sitting right on top of him. 

But Pop always made us waffles when we visited and talked sports with us as though we were grandsons instead of granddaughters. He also expected us to mow the lawn and cut firewood in the same vein. It was kind of cool, even if it was a pain in the ass.

"You ladies need anymore help up here?" He moved towards the door. "I need to give your grandmother a hand with dinner. Rachel is of no use with a stove."

"I think we've got it from here," Laurel said with a confident twist of her angular chin and a swift smile grazing her full lips. "Thanks, Pop."

"Food will be ready soon, girls. Keep an ear open. It's kind of a haul from up from the third floor to the kitchen." 

While Laurel put away some of our massive book collection, I dug through the messenger bag on my twin bed for my box of golden brown hair dye. I was over the red streaks. It had been more for mom and dad's shock and derision anyway. 

"Hey, what do you think of this color?" I asked. 

Laurel's back was to me as she flipped through an old yearbook. I peeked over her shoulder. The headline over the composite read 'Earyeston Middle School, Sixth Grade'. 

"Trying to jog your memory for Monday?"

She shuddered and gave me a quick glance as though she hadn't realized I was standing there. She snapped the book closed. "Not that it will do much good. 12 to 18 years old renders a lot of change."

"I bet there is going one thing that's the same. Everyone will be white. Except me. The lone Asian kid in the entire school." I groaned and threw myself across my bed. "I'm glad we left the city, but at least it was a little more diverse there. I'm going to stand out here enough as it is."

Laurel landed next to me on the quilt and nudged my side with her elbow. "Hey. You need help with the hair dye this time around, Suze?"

I snorted as I sat up. "Sure. What the hell."

Sitting in our bathroom with a towel draped over my shoulders, Laurel painted the chemicals onto my head with plastic gloves. I mused how long I was going to last in that tar pit of a town before I dropped out. I loved my family, but everything had been so shitty lately, all I wanted was to disappear. It would have to take something really awesome for me to stick around Eayreston.

Laurel would do well, of course. She always did. She bulldozed to get what she wanted and she wanted out as much as me. She just preferred the straight and narrow. Not because it was easy, but because she ruled that realm. 

Laurel was an ice queen, a queen bee, a heartless bitch. At least that was her reputation back at our old school. After our father toppled from his tower, she fell from her's. But it wouldn't be long before she was on top again, if only out of habit. 

I worried for her though. I knew a side of her that no one else did. Hopefully, this move would knock her out of complacent acceptance of her reputation and help her become the better person that I knew she could be.

But that was how it had always been; I was fire and she was all ice. At least to other people.

***

I was pleasantly surprised with Suzy's hair and Nana was relieved, to say the least. I had never considered myself an expert at hair, though Suzy picked up box color occasionally. The first time she'd done it in middle school, it had resulted in an emergency salon trip after she'd accidentally turned her hair green. She'd done a lot of research online since then and had even hinted at cosmetology school after she graduated. It was good to hear her have some goals.

Suzy was passionate and romantic, a purveyor of daring novels with racy covers that we kept hidden from our parents. She was also restless. Ever since the news about dad broke, I had been worried that it would send her over the edge. Though she was a good student, she hated the rigid structure of the environment. It would take work to make sure that she made it to her diploma.

I was comforted by that same kind of setting. I liked control. It made me feel secure.

We spent the weekend cloistered in our tower room watching Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlea. They had been our favorites growing up. It was kind of the reason why I had made friends with Gil when we were ten years old. 

I had never met a real Gilbert before, but had crushed on the character in the '90s miniseries. Of course, I'd never admitted that to him. He'd hated his name. Other kids made fun of him for being nicknamed Gil, making fish faces at him.

Late Sunday night, after we set our alarm clock for 6:00 AM in anticipation of our first day, I waited for Suzy to fall asleep. As soon as her breathing evened out on the other side of the room, I hopped out of bed. The hardwood floor was cold under my bare feet as I tip toed to the window seat by the bookcase. I slipped the old yearbook out from underneath the floral cushion.

I flipped through the pages of notes and autographs to our sixth grade composite. Slipping my finger down the edge, running over the lines of names, I found him. Gilbert D. Levy. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to remember that brief moment at the 7-Eleven. 

His face had gotten longer, along with the rest of his body. He still flashed same sneer. When he was sincerely happy, he had the most childlike smile that I had ever seen. He now had a Roman nose and his lower lip was fuller than the top. Brown eyes like mine. He didn't have a handsome face, but an arresting one nonetheless. You didn't forget a face like Gil's easily, whether you were 12 or 18.

Inevitably, I found myself on the page. I wondered if I had really changed so much from that little girl to the point where Gil didn't recognize me. I had the same coloring, the same light brown hair and golden brown eyes. The same light smattering of freckles over my nose. I had a high forehead now and fuller lips, but I still had the same faint cleft in my chin. I hated my chin. It was too angled and prominent. 

Of course, others thought I was pretty. I had always used that to my advantage. Why wouldn't you? I believed in using whatever you had in your arsenal to get what you wanted. It was why I wore makeup and dressed fashionably to flatter my figure. It was why I smiled at people I disliked then dismantled their world behind their back. 

Of course, others thought I was a bitch. It was a comfortable persona. It kept me safe. So I had cultivated that facade for the last six years. But in a matter of weeks, I had been reduced to that little girl smiling in my middle school year book. I was vulnerable and I knew it. And my encounter with Gil had only confirmed that fear.

I only slept three or four hours in total that night. Suzy tossed and turned for most of the night as well. By morning, we were both seriously considering homeschooling.