Mariana and Jesus get home, and Brandon comes downstairs and they all help us set the table and finish up cooking. I was looking forward to seeing Jude but he's at Taylor's house. The others still don't fully know what happened last night, they probably just think I ran away or something. I wonder if they'll ask, or if Stef and Lena will tell them.

"When are moms home?" Callie asks Mariana.

"Mama said she has a bunch of paperwork to do because she went in late and I think mom's taking a double." She answers as she sits down, and Callie and I serve everyone their pasta. "This looks so good." Callie smiles at me.

"Why is she taking a double?" Jesus asks. "She only does that when we need more money." There's probably going to be a few medical and legal bills that go along with my trial. She wouldn't be working overtime for me, would she? I'm not Stef and Lena's responsibility.

Sitting down with the others is nice, I get to pretend I'm normal. All I've ever wanted was to be normal, I'm still not, but I can dream. They talk about their day, Mariana tells us how she's doing some coding thing for her STEM club, she's smart, like supercomputer smart. Jesus chatters on about the latest girl he's dating. Sophia says he's a bit of a player. Brandon has written two new compositions for his music class this week, and Callie is almost done with her senior project. I think they're expecting me to make some contribution to the conversation, but I don't want to talk about my day. Especially not in front of the boys, maybe I'll talk about it with Mariana later, I can trust her, but for now I just keep quiet and let them chat away.

"Seriously guys, this pasta is amazing. Good job Gracie." Jesus says.

"Oh, I didn't do anything, it was all Callie. I can make cakes and stuff, but not without a decent recipe. My mom liked to bake, she left some of her recipes but- but uh, they got stolen in one of my old group homes." Everyone goes quiet. I try to keep eating like I'm fine, but I can't help it when my eyes well up.

"I've had some of my stuff stolen too, it sucks." Callie comforts me.

"Yeah, the girl who took them also took the only pictures I had of my parents; I can barely remember their faces." She was awful to me; she loved to beat the crap out of me and tell the staff I did it to myself. "Sorry, I'm getting a little deep. I think I'll just go upstairs." I stand up and put my plate in the sink.

"Sure, there are clean towels in the bathroom if you want to take a shower," Mariana tells me.

"And you can borrow any of my clothes than you want," Callie adds.

"Thanks, guys, you've been so nice to me." I smile and go upstairs, saving my tears until I'm behind the closed door.

I go into the bathroom, I don't quite cry, I just let the tears fall down my face. I quickly figure out how to use the shower and I don't rush. I sit in the bottom, just thinking. I have to be okay; I'm going to have to keep my emotions out of the trial. If I need someone to talk to, I have Sophia, I have Callie, there's group therapy too, and I'll have a counselor as soon as I go back to school. I could go back tomorrow, and try and be normal, or I could wait a while and go back when I'm ready. But if I wait a while and rock up one day, kids will notice and might start something. I've been bullied before and I don't want that to happen again, but I suppose things couldn't get much worse. I'm already depressed, I've had the crap kicked out of me, had my stuff stolen, and most recently I was sexually assaulted. The list goes on.

As I let the hot water run over my body, I look around me, even the bathroom is homely. The warmth of the shower reaches inside me, this family, that I was jealous of at the start of the week, have taken me in, without a second thought. I have people who care about what happens to me. They're not my forever family, but at least I have them for a little while. And I highly doubt they will be my forever family, but I think maybe, just maybe, I deserve a little bit of happiness.

On the shelves next to the shower, there's a photo of Brandon when he was a kid sitting on the shoulders of a young man, must be his dad. They're at some music concert, smiling. I have one good memory with my dad.

When I was six, he decided he wasn't going to be depressed, it only lasted a day, thinking back to it now, he was probably manic, or his meds had kicked in. Anyway, he took me to the park, then a movie, and we went out for dinner. I don't know if he was putting on a smile or if for just that day, he was actually okay. But he gave me the best day of my life. The park was old and rusty, the theatre was cold, and our food was terrible, but it didn't matter because we were together, we were happy.

When I get out of the shower, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the full-length mirror. Bruises cover my skin, they've neither gotten worse nor better. My entire left side from my shoulder to my hip is almost completely blue. It hurts to the touch. I notice the faded scars on my arms, and the still fresh cut from my recent accidental attempt, they don't make me sad, not the way the bruises do anyway. It's kind of a weird sense of accomplishment. I made all of these scars, and that sucks, but I'm not dead yet. The door knocks, and I rush to dry myself off and wrap up in a towel. I open the door to Mariana.

"Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." She says. I pass her and go into her room.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks again."

"Okay, want me to find you some PJs?" She opens the top drawer of the dresser.

"Sure, thanks."

"How about this?" She pulls out a matching shirt and pant set, they're dark blue linen. Something I could never have afforded.

"Yeah, thanks." I go put them on in the bathroom. I brush out my wet hair with my hands.

"You can use my hairdryer if you want?" She pulls it out of a basket under her bed and gives it to me. I just stare at it. "Have you ever used a hairdryer before?" She asks. I'm a little embarrassed as I shake my head. "Come here, I'll do it." She pulls me over to sit down on the chair in front of her vanity. She plugs it in and starts combing through my hair with her pink brush and she starts blow-drying. Now and then she'll stop to talk, she talks about herself which is nice. I don't want to talk about me any more than I have to. She tells me more about how she and Jesus got adopted, and she talks about her birth parents a little. I guess this family isn't perfect, but what family is?

Once Mariana is finished with my hair, we go downstairs, Jude is home from Taylor's. We all go into the living room and watch a movie with the others, they let me pick so I choose Toy Story, I've always loved it. I haven't seen a lot of movies, but I always used to watch this one when I was a kid before my dad died. I sit between Callie and Jude leaving Mariana and Brandon on the armchairs and Jesus on the floor, he doesn't complain though. We all just relax and eat popcorn, another normal family activity.