“And without any plants,” Gabby added.

I sighed into the phone. That was a dig and she knew it.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling defeated. I moved on to something else. “Did I tell you our building got sold? Rent is going up for the shop and the apartment, again.”

“Damn. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know.” There were a lot of things up in the air and I was worried about what would happen if we couldn’t bring in some more money. Everything was a mess.

A voice came screeching through the phone. “Gabby! You didn’t take the chicken out the freezer?”

“Shit,” Gabby said. I knew that ring of terror in her voice. Her mom, Miss Lindy, didn’t play when it came to food. If she told Gabby to take out the chicken and she didn’t, it was gonna be a problem.

“You better get the hair dryer or something.”

“Mommy, I’m sorry! I’m taking it out right now!”

“I’ve been at work all day, and you couldn’t take out the chicken?” Miss Lindy said in the background.

“Gotta go, Briseis,” Gabby said, and hung up.

I lay across my bed, feeling the beat of my heart and listening to myself breathe. Maybe the poison hadn’t gotten into my cut; maybe it was such a small amount that I wasn’t affected. I looked at my thumb. The gash was oozing through the Band-Aid.

I thought back to when I met Gabby and Marlon. Our gym teacher, Mr. Cates, put us in the same group for relay races around the blacktop. We all pretended to be injured after the first lap and spent the rest of class sitting on a bench in the cool fall air, talking about our favorite movies and roasting Mr. Cates because he wore gym shorts that were way too small and his knees and elbows were forever ashy. The trees that crowded the gated outdoor area were leafless, preparing for the winter—all except the one we were closest to. It bloomed as we laughed together. Gabby was the first one to notice. She clapped her hand down on Marlon’s shoulder and pointed to the trees. Their eyes were wide and fearful. If they were scared of the trees, they’d be scared of me too. I knew right then I’d have to hide what I could do.

I hated it. I should have let it all go and made the trees green or made the grass grow and owned it. Maybe that would’ve been better than pretending. I wanted to know what it would be like to be myself, fully, right from the jump. No secrets, no hiding.

But it was too late for that. My friends were pulling away from me, my parents were worried about me, school was a mess, and this power squatting inside me was trying to break free. How much more of this could I take before I reached a tipping point? Before I did something I couldn’t take back?

CHAPTER 3

The next morning, I sat on the edge of my bed with my bare feet on the floor. As I looked around my room, wiping the sleep from my eyes, the cut on my finger throbbed. In a rush, the terror from the day before washed over me.

I should be dead.

In the night, tangled ropes of ivy had made their way across the floor and knitted themselves together like a rug of leaves. I stumbled over them to grab my glasses off my desk and went down the hall to get a jump on my morning routine. I brushed my teeth and fished through an endless hoard of hair products in the cabinet for some leave-in and a spray bottle. My six-day-old twist-out was lookin’ extremely rough, but I thought I could get away with a poof for at least another day or two. I slicked up the sides with some Eco Styler and a paddle brush. If my edges were laid, it was okay if the rest was a little messy. Worst-case scenario I’d throw it in a wrap and call it a day.

“How?” Mom’s voice rang out from the living room, her tone clipped. “We can’t afford it.”

I crept closer to the bathroom door.

“We’ll figure it out. We always do,” Mo said.

“We can’t make money appear out of thin air,” Mom said. “We’re already cutting corners. We can’t keep on like this.”

“I know,” said Mo. “Ordering costs are going up. The main case needs a repair, too. It’s not cooling like it should and wasted inventory costs us more money. But it’s the rent the new owner is charging that’s gonna kill our profit margin. I’ll go back over all the billing, make sure we’re not paying too much for supplies, and then we need to get with our accountant and double-check taxes, write-offs—”

“We’ve done all that,” Mom said.

Mo answered her with a heavy sigh. Their talks about money had gotten more and more desperate over the last few months.

“I can work nights, weekends, whatever I need to do,” said Mo.

“I can pick up some more freelance work,” Mom said, her voice tight, like she’d been crying. “I’ll check in at the college. I know they’ve got some adjunct positions opening in the fall.” She sighed. “I wanna know when we’re supposed to enjoy life a little. Take Briseis on a vacation or somethin’.”

“I don’t know, babe,” Mo said. “I want that too.”

I finished up in the bathroom and walked into the living room. “I can get a full-time job for the summer.”

“No,” Mom said. “Absolutely not. You’ve been struggling in school and I know it’s because you’re stressed. You need to sit down somewhere and relax.”

“I’ll be less stressed when I know we can pay the bills,” I said. “Whoever said money doesn’t solve your problems was a liar.”

“This isn’t your problem to solve, you brilliant, beautiful child,” said Mo, her eyes misting over. Mom was the crier, not Mo. She was emotional in a different way. Seeing her on the verge of tears put a knot in my throat. “We’re going to have to make some sacrifices to keep things afloat after the summer. New rent goes into effect in the fall, so maybe we keep the shop and move to a smaller place.”

“We can get a one-bedroom,” said Mom, glancing at Mo. “Briseis can have the room, and we can get a foldout.”

Mo nodded. “We can give up the paid parking, too. Maybe give up the car altogether. We hardly use it anyway.”

“Um, sleeping on a foldout? Getting rid of the car? Are things that bad?” Those were big decisions. Maybe this wasn’t just a bump in the road. Mom and Mo looked at each other solemnly.

“Everything is gonna be fine,” said Mo.