***
I keep running over what happened at the lake in my head. The thought of Drew’s lips and his hands in my hair makes me smile, but then I think about where they went next, and I wince at my response. Why can’t I be like all the other girls and just do it? At least, I think that’s what other girls do—if Ebbodine was anything to go by, anyway.
It’s no wonder I’m messed up when it comes to this issue. When I hit thirteen, Dad tried to give me “the talk.” Ugh. I cringe at the memory of Dad getting all flustered trying to talk to me about female anatomy.
I was lucky to have my aunt to help me through those awkward preteen phases. I don’t know if Dad asked her to talk to me about it after he failed, or if she knew with Mum gone I’d need a female role model to look up to and ask questions.
I wish we got to see her more than we do now, but with her living in the city, we can’t exactly just pop in whenever we want.
Aunt Kenna’s the only one—apart from Dad and Shilah—that I can talk to about my fear of the Institute. I don’t know if she knows about Shilah or not, though. I’ve never spoken about him or his ability; all of our talks are generally about my fears.
Aunt Kenna’s always good at reassuring me when I go to her with my worries, but I haven’t spoken to her in a long while. Maybe I’ll go see her this weekend. Better yet, maybe I’ll ditch school tomorrow. I survived the stares today, but the thought of having to do it again makes me want to run to the city just to get away. I don’t like being the topic of conversation, the centre of attention—that was all Ebb. And now Ebb is gone. Thinking of her makes up my mind. I’ll definitely go see Aunt Kenna tomorrow.
The Institute Page 10