There are two dates this February that matter.
The first round of the competition, and the day she died.
I take a pen and circle the first day of the month on the wall calendar. My focus lingers on the second date, and a dull ache spreads through my chest. I draw a line under that day, too. It does not get easier. Losing someone you love never does. You just keep missing them. I miss my mother every single day.
A knock comes at my door. I quickly brush away the tear tracing a path down my cheek. "Who is it?"
"Anderson."
Last Saturday was the first time we sang together. If he wants to do it again this weekend, I am more than ready. I spend a moment at my mirror, fixing my face until I look more like myself again. I open the door just partway and lean against the frame. I am not sure what we are now. He is still with Miss Gates, and I am still alone.
"What is going on?" I ask my stepbrother.
