It only mattered that I was beautiful.

I can’t figure out whether he’s not texting me today because he’s finally gotten tired of me or if he’s just busy.

POCKETS FULL OF PROMISES BY BLUE KIRKPATRICK 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 90

He hasn’t texted me all day. My hand trembles as I apply lipstick, leaning in close to the bathroom mirror, close enough that I can see each pore in my wide cheeks gaping open, laughing at me.

My little sister, Annie, sits on the bed in the open doorway behind me, paging through a glossy magazine full of shiny pink lips. She catches my eye in the mirror. “You’re not really going to go see him, are you?” she asks.

I shake my head at her. “I have to see him.”

“You don’t have to do anything, Vivian.” 

I say nothing. She lets the pause sit, uncomfortable between us, then adds, “What about Amy?” 

“Don’t talk to me about her. She’s not my problem.”

I plop down on the bed beside her, pulling out my phone and opening Bumble, feigning relaxation.

I do need to see him. Nothing else will take away the ache. In mom…