Bonnie

He told me to come over to his house a week after that, to start our new project for the semester. He had already convinced his dad to let us use his laptop, as long as there were no 'funny searches' as he put it. I uncapped a container of dark green glitter from my bag and drew on the poster board with a dark purple marker. The smell filled my nose, and I had to turn away. I hated that I was so sensitive to the smell. The glitter clung on my hands and flecked abrasively between the webs of my fingers. He noticed when I made a sound. He asked what was wrong.

"There's glitter stuck all under my nails and it's everywhere!" I groaned and stood.

He showed me his bathroom. It was dimly lit, with a stale water smell, but it was clean and the water felt good, as the glitter was washed down the drain of the sink. I dried my hands on the one threadbare towel on the rack and came back out into the narrow hallway. He hummed some tune as he smeared glue with his fingers onto the poster board. Suddenly I wished that I could be a bit more like him. The thought came to me as I wicked the subtle leftover moisture on my palms onto my pale blue skirt.