The first and only time my mother took me back to school shopping would forever be burned into my memory. It was about a week until the first day of seventh grade, and though my mother had commented on my body changing a few months prior, it was as if it'd slipped her mind entirely. I had sat down that morning and explained that nothing fit anymore. My shirts and pants, all from fourth and fifth grade, were two sizes too small and the one bra she'd picked up a thrift store somewhere had seen better days and the wire had started to stab at my breast. Having just received that month's child support, I figured that she'd be more than willing to spend a little of the money that was meant for me on me.

I should have just bummed clothes off my peers.

The minute we stepped inside Walmart, Mom was on a rant. Continuing to ramble on bitterly as she threw her hand in a gesture toward the women's clothing section. "Well, go. Meet me back here when you're done."

I followed the order, but she was no longer at the front of the store when I'd returned-in fact, she'd vacated the premise entirely. It wasn't until one of my classmates spotted me that I was offered a ride back to my apartment, and though I knew neither my mother or I had the money to repay her, their grandmother bought me an entire closet of clothes that summer. I sat outside the apartment with my bags on either side of me for over three hours before my mother finally climbed out of some man's car and greeted me with a wave and grin as if nothing had happened.

She acted as though she hadn't left her thirteen year old daughter stranded in the middle of a store.

As I trudged along after Elise, I pressed my fingernails into my outer thighs, feeling far too exposed and in desperate need of pockets. Though Jeremiah's shirt hung off me loosely and covered me, I was so used to being able to throw a hood over my head and my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirts that I felt naked.

We'd been in the store for a little over twenty minutes, and despite me not telling her what my bra size was, she'd thrown the correct size of four different sets of three in the cart without as much as batting an eye. As we maneuvered our way into the claustrophobic aisles of t-shirts, she finally lifted her head and snuck a quick, curious glance in my direction, "All the money we sent you over the years, she took it, didn't she?"

The nurturing, loving daughter in me wanted to deny it. But the broken, angry mess that'd been neglected nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Elise's big brown eyes narrowed for a moment, before she pursed her lips in a look of irritation and returned her attention to the clothes in front of her. My eyes flickered over the top of the next few aisles to the men's section. She extended a hand and rested a hand against my wrist. "Is this okay?"

I tore my eyes from my desired destination and trained my eyes on what she was holding up. I had always assumed that everything in the juniors and women's sections would be tight and exposing, but the plain black shirt she held between us looked as if she'd pulled it right off the men's rack.

"Yeah."

She didn't question further and tossed a few of the same shirt in different colors into the cart before heading for the sweaters the next aisle over. I knew I was far too old to be having my stepmother pick and choose my clothes for me, but I had no idea what it was like to shop. I had no desire to sit and try to pick through all the clothes. The second she'd come to this conclusion she hadn't thrown it in my face or gotten angry, she'd looked sad then started to grab everything on her own.

"Look, Addy, you don't have to talk about it right now if it's too much, but does your mother have anything to do with the way you dress?"

My head started to move to the left, but as I readied myself to shake it in the opposite direction in denial, I tensed just the slightest. I hadn't ever really sat and thought about the question before-I'd always blamed my experiences with the boys and men for my need to be covered head to toe. But, considering the words had tears prickling the back of my eyes and I dropped my gaze.

Maybe subconsciously it did have something to do with Mom. I'd spent my entire life watching her exploit her body, the same body I'd inherited and hated, for men, sex, and most importantly-drugs.

"I can't even begin to imagine how hard it must have been living with her." Elise said with a bitter shake of her head. "But I want you to know that you're safe here with me, okay? I'll listen to you. I want you to understand that I'm here whenever you need to talk."

Elise and my mother had met twice as far as I was aware. At the wedding my mother very much hadn't been invited to, and a few years after when there'd been a mix up with the flights and Elise had ended up hopping on a plane and flying back home to Chicago with me. My mother hated a lot of people, but I don't think anything even brushed the surface of her absolute loathing of my stepmother. She despised her. She spent a lot of my childhood talking her down and trying to brainwash me into staying home because Elise would never care for me the way she did her boys.

But staring at my stepmother now, her expression soft and concerned, eyes hooded with sadness and irritation, it took everything in me to not be petty and call my mother now. To shout in her face that she'd been wrong. That Elise loved me.

That it was her that would never care for me the way she did her drugs.

*

Stepping through the front door with my bags draped off both my arms, I halted to an immediate stop when I spotted the entire lot of Baker boys and Jere crowded in the living room. I suppose it explained why it'd looked like a hurricane hit this morning, as the moment my eyes fell on them, I could see the mess at it's start.

The twins were on the beige sofa, stretched out with throw pillows behind their heads. Jacob, closest to us, had an open bag of microwave popcorn on his chest and even from afar I could see the grease on his fingertips. His twin was opposite him, his hair short and in a well kept fade, a family size pack of sour worms resting on his chest as he dangled one over his mouth. With their heads inches from the twins feet were Jere and Johnny in front of the sofa, stretched out on a Raiders throw with pillows at their back. Between the two of them was a movie sized large bucket of popcorn with some kind of candy mixed in it. Just a few inches in front of Elise and me was Shane in the recliner, his arms stretched behind his head, feet kicked up, and a small smile resting on his lips.

"Please make sure you all clean this up in the morning. I'm heading to bed." she touched her hand to the small of my back and looked at her son and his best friend. "One of you take her bags up to the room please."

Jonathan started to rise, but Jere mumbled something and pushed himself from the ground. Johnny shrugged and leaned back against the cushion, retraining his eyes on the bright TV screen. The full bags that had been dragging my arms down didn't even bend a finger as Jere pried them from my grip. He flashed a toothy grin before making a motion with his head in the direction of the couch, "You should join us."

It would have been easy to politely deny the suggestion if Shane and Jake hadn't been eavesdropping and piped up in agreement. "Yeah, Ads! Join us!"

Though the three were all for it, Johnny kind of shifted uncomfortably and Gabe didn't look away from the movie, more interested in the action sequence than what was going on in reality.

"I guess." I muttered. "Just for a few."

Jere disappeared up the stairs while I crossed the room to the couch. I contemplated sitting in front of Shane on the recliner, as he, of all my brothers, seemed to be the most harmless and genuinely welcoming. But the thought of the recliner malfunctioning or him forgetting I'm there and kicking me had my butt planting itself next to Jeremiah's vacant spot.

I started to lean back when something hit my arm from the left and I quickly looked to Gabe. He was smirking, eyebrows raised in a prompting manner as he held the big bag of candy out to me. I waved it off with a weak smile and tried to focus on whatever superhero movie it was playing on the plasma. Unfortunately, I was yet again distracted when Jeremiah jogged down the stairs and made a beeline straight for the front door. Confused, I looked to Johnny, but he was lost in thought, or possibly so focused on the movie he didn't see me. After opening the door and stepping out, Jere popped back in with two bags of what appeared to me Chinese takeout containers.

Once he'd dispersed the food to my brothers, he pulled an extra plate and fork from the bag and made his own. He then extended his hand with a carton of rice to me, and after a setting his fork down, handed the remainder of the Kung Pao chicken in addition to it.

"Want some?" he asked through a mouth full of food.

I wanted to deny the food because it was more than obvious that he could devour the entire thing himself, but my stomach deceived me and knowing he, and possibly the grocery store a couple blocks away, could hear the growl I gently took them and mixed them before taking the fork he was offering. "Thanks, Jere."

We all sat there, the twins occasionally making jokes and Shane gasping and shouting angrily at one of the characters, for what felt like hours before my brothers finally dozed off. Because I'd spent so much of my life caring for my mother, I grabbed a few blankets from the closet and draped them over the twins and Shane, then Johnny. Jeremiah reached for the controller as soon as the credits of our third movie started rolling and shut it off. I offered him the last blanket I'd been able to find but he nudged it back in my direction. "No, you use it. I'll just cuddle with Johnny."

My brother, who I'd thought had been asleep, groaned, "No. Please don't do that."

Jere mocked him as I sat back down, fiddling with the hem of the shirt. The silence started to shift into awkwardness, and Jeremiah broke the monotony before it could get worse.

"That shirt is huge on you."

I didn't know exactly how to respond, so I whispered, "I like them like this. Thanks, by the way, for letting me borrow it."

He yawned and stretched his arm behind my head on the cushion, his knuckles brushing against Jake's back. "Sure, of course. We're family."

I couldn't shake that his comment was more than just a sweet sediment. I felt as though it had something to do with the reason why Elise had spoke to him as if he were one of her boys, but I didn't question it.

"They mess you up pretty bad, hmm?"

Confused, my head whipped back in his direction. "What? Who?"

"Parents." he said with a one shouldered shrug, "Mine did at least."

He must have drawn the same conclusion Elise had about my fashion choices and silence-that it all stemmed from my mother.

"Be careful Monday." he added quietly a few minutes later, settling himself on the ground to my left, purposefully pressing his back against Jonathan's with a smirk until my brother moved closer to the TV with a grunt of anger. Once Jere had recollected himself and decided to be mature again, he finished what he'd been saying. "The kids at our school are. . . judgmental. That's being nice, but whatever. Just be careful, okay? They're going to swarm you if they know you're related to Jo and know me."

I averted my gaze, too exhausted to try and figure out what that was supposed to mean. "Okay."

There was a look of confliction in his beautiful green eyes before he stretched his hand out to touch mine. I had to fight every urge I had to get up and run.

"Whatever you came here to get away from isn't going to hurt you anymore, Addison."

I caught him lay down a few feet away in peripheral, but didn't fully look in his direction, afraid he'd see the tears threatening to break free and sit back up. Once I heard his breathing grow heavier and steady, I balled the blanket in between my hands and brought it to my mouth in hopes it'd contain the sob burning the back of my throat.

I wished it was as easy as running from one state to the next and being able to get over what happened. But it wouldn't matter if I hopped on the next plane to Australia, because the thing I was trying so desperately to get away from was me.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't outrun myself.