She watched as her sister made manic about the room, unloading her bags and putting knickknacks on every available surface.
“What bad emotion exactly are you banishing?”
“Heath called me a mascot,” Ruby said. “And then Dana...well, she was Dana.”
“I’m sorry. Heath called you a what?” Dahlia frowned.
“A mascot. The town mascot.”
“While I would love it if the high school were in fact The Fighting Rubies, I don’t think your head could stand to get any bigger.”
Ruby’s eyes went large, and her frown deepened. “My head is big?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Rubes. I was teasing you.”
“Dana said I’m not a miracle.”
And while Dahliareallywanted to tease Ruby about being devastated that someone didn’t find her miraculous, she could feel there was something more serious there, and she didn’t want to be mean. Poking at Ruby was fine. Knocking some of her glitter off on occasion was Dahlia’s sisterly duty to the whole of the world.
But she didn’t want to hurt her.
“Can you expand on that?” Dahlia asked.
“I mean...she said she always found me really tragic and... Anyway, it was fine—it was just a really uncomfortable conversation.”
Dahlia felt the strangest echo inside of her. A radiant pain that also felt oddly satisfied. Because she’d felt that. Always. Even at four. That there was a deep sadness to Ruby’s abandonment, and a story. One that no one seemed interested in discovering.
“I agree with her,” Dahlia said.
“You...you agree?”
Dahlia’s breath caught on an indignant sound. “I’m not...trying to be mean, so please stop with the big eyes. But have you honestly never...wondered about why you were left? Or thought it had to be some insane tragedy? I mean, you were abandoned. You could have died.”
“I didn’t, though,” Ruby insisted. “Because you found me.”
“Yes, we did. And it was chance. The odds of a sad ending were much higher.”
“I just don’t like to think of it that way.”
“I understand that,” Dahlia said. “But you know, you don’t see things the way I do and you never have.”
“Glass half-full,” Ruby said, then gestured to Dahlia. “Glass half-empty.”
“That’s not true,” Dahlia said. “Not necessarily. I want to know how the glass came to be the way it is. If someone filled it halfway, I guess it’s half-full. But if someone drank from it, it’s half-empty. What happened matters. Why it happened matters.”
Dahlia didn’t know why it bothered her so much. Why she wanted Ruby to care about the answers all of a sudden. Except she’d always been this way. She’d always wanted the answers while it had seemed like the people around her preferredstories.
“I care about the truth,” Ruby said. “It’s not like I’m...living a lie. It’s just...perspective. And I didn’t like Heath saying I was a mascot any more than I like Dana saying I’m a...a tragedy. I’m aperson.”
Dahlia sighed. “I know that, Rubes. I just... Aren’t you curious?”
“I...not usually. Once I realized I definitely wasn’t a secret princess, it all became less interesting. I just... I don’t know, I was going to say I just want to be a normal person, but that’s a lie, isn’t it?”
Yes.
“I can’t answer that for you.”
“I want to be special.”