The seventh grade is an important year for preteens. By this time, I was sure I’d remain the super shy loner girl. After
all, I was already in the habit of covering the radiator burn mark on my face with my right hand and holding my left arm
against my body to conceal the burn on my forearm. I even invented the perfect pose for when I sat at my desk. It was a
casual pose wherein I rested my face in my hand. I had these burns my whole life, and I had been conscientious of them for almost as long. I was burned on a radiator twice: once, at six months old, and again at one year old. Imagine my shock when a traumatic experience reset my social status.
After school one day, a friend and I began our walk home.
She was chattering about something that happened at lunch.
In the middle of her excited story, I heard someone shouting,
“Veda? Hey, Veda?”
“Hold up,” I told my friend. I looked around.
“Veda,” Dad shouted from across the street, waving
me over.
...