Annie and Fia by Kiersten White

FIA
    Four Months at Keane

     
    “AND YOU’LL NEED A MATCHING SCARF!” EDEN declares, draping one across Annie’s shoulders.
    Annie laughs. “Actually, I don’t need matching anything. It doesn’t make a difference to me.”
    “What are you even going to do while we’re there?” I mutter, staring at my empty duffel bag. Eden and Annie are packing like it’s a celebration, clothes strewn across Annie’s bed as Eden fusses over what she should bring.
    I want to strangle her, I do, I want to crush her vocal cords because Eden keeps giggling like she can’t believe her luck.
    I can believe mine: I have none.
    “Oh, for the love,” Eden huffs, taking the scarf off Annie and folding it carefully into Annie’s bag. “Will you stop being the black hole of despair? We are going on a ski trip. To a fancy lodge. Who cares what we’re going to do? It’s a ski trip , Fia.”
    “Actually, Clarice said they’re bringing in a companion instructor who will take me down the slopes. I guess we’ll use some sort of harness system? So I’ll actually get to ski!” Annie’s smile is both shy and brilliant at the same time, and it stabs right through black-hole me.
    “That’s awesome.” I don’t have to smile for Annie, which is a relief. Eden glares at me, and I glare right back, giving off the deadest feelings I can. I know she feels them. She won’t admit it, not yet, but I’ve figured her out.
    I’ve figured too much out. Too much, and yet I still know nothing. Except the way I feel all the time, like my skin is too tight, itching, iron bands around my lungs, and everything is wrong all the time. I don’t understand how Eden can’t feel it, feel how wrong this school is.
    “Hey, it’s a full week away from classes.” Eden shrugs, gives me a peace offering of a smile. “That’s worth something, right? And maybe there will be boys! Oooh, Annie, what if your instructor is a guy? He’s going to be hot. He’s going to be so blisteringly hot you won’t even need a scarf! Maybe I’ll request a harness ride, too.”
    Annie makes a face. “Yeah, because an old dude being into a fourteen-year-old girl is super attractive.”
    “You’re almost fifteen, and I’ll be fourteen next month. Besides, I passed for sixteen all the time at home. You’ve never seen my ridiculous rack.”
    I pretend to vomit into my duffel bag. So far, imaginary puke is the only thing I’ve packed. Annie laughs, relieved that I am part of this joking around. She always wants me to be part of things, to be involved, to be happy.
    There is no room in my head for happy. Ever since we got to the school there’s been a swarm of bees in my head, and they buzz all the time, and they are angry and terrified. They only stop when I’m in the middle of training, when I finally let myself go and stop thinking, stop feeling, do nothing but what they want me to.
    And then afterward, the wrong feelings come back so strong I throw up.
    I pick things at random and throw them at my bed. The school provided us with snow gear, so all I need are clothes for the evenings. My fingers hesitate over a lacy black camisole tank that I wear underneath my terrible starched school uniform. I don’t need it.
    But I need it.
    Stupid, stupid. Whatever. I throw it into the bag, along with the push-up bra I know I don’t need but I need anyway.
    Annie laughs at something Eden says, and unlike Eden’s stabby laugh, Annie’s fills me with a sudden desperate hope. Maybe this will be fun. Maybe away from the school the wrong feeling will stop and I’ll be able to breathe.
    Maybe.

ANNIE
    Two Years Before Keane

     
    FIA STOMPS ACROSS THE FLOOR ABOVE US. SHE’S NOT very big—it must take her a lot of effort to make that much noise. A door slams, and then, because it wasn’t loud enough the first time, she slams it again.
    I am rubbing her toothbrush in soap tonight.
    Heather sighs, pauses the movie. “Should I go talk to her?”
    “No. She’s been a brat all day.