“You’ve been hiding in that robe all afternoon! You’re making everyone uncomfortable.”
A few people chuckled.
Chloe pointed directly at me, her smile slowly sharpening into something cruel.
“We agreed we’d match today, remember?
So stop hiding.
Take off the robe and jump in!
Or are you too embarrassed to let everyone see what you really look like?”
One of her closest friends started clapping.
Slowly.
Mockingly.
Another joined in.
Within seconds, the entire backyard echoed with a cruel, rhythmic chant.
“Take it off!
Take it off!
Take it off!”
To them, it was entertainment.
They thought I was just deeply insecure.
No one knew I hadn’t worn short sleeves in twelve years.
Inside the house, through the glass doors, I saw my father’s hand grip the handle.
He was ready to storm out and stop everything.
I met his eyes and gave the smallest shake of my head.
