Page 6 of Pretty Broken Doll

Glaring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I touch the gel-slicked hair on my head. It’s awful. Horrendous. Same with the dress shirt and pants I borrowed from Dad. “I look like I wear a fedora and go around saying ‘milady.’”

My sister snorts, rolling her dark eyes as she turns me around to fasten my tie. “No, you don’t. You look nice.”

“Nice?“ Flapping my arms like a bird, I show her how the sleeves hang loose. “Paige, look at this. I’m about to take flight right out the window. And my pants won’t stay up.”

“Shilo,” she sighs in frustration, grabbing my shoulders when I start to chirp. “Will you stop? I know you’re nervous, but this isn’t a big deal.”

See, that’s where she’s wrong. This is a big deal. As in half-my-grade-for-the-semester big deal. As in, if I don’t land this internship, I fail the course and have to start again next year big deal.

Big frickin’ deal.

She rolls up my sleeves, her brows pinching with concern as her fingers circle my thin wrists. “Mom offered to take you shopping, but you refused.”

“Yeah, because it’s embarrassing. Nothing ever fits right. Why couldn’t we just order something off Amazon like normal people?”

“You know why.” Blowing brunette waves out of her face, she frowns at the pant legs pooling around my feet. “And things would fit you if you actually ate something.”

I scowl at the top of her head when she kneels to fold the hems of my pants. “I ate breakfast.”

“And before that?”

Okay, she’s got a point. Before that, nothing. Not since breakfast yesterday—or maybe the day before. Honestly, eating takes a lot of brain power, and mine all goes to programming.

Once she’s done, I step out of the bathroom into my bedroom, squinting in the black light as I dig through my dresser drawers. “Why can’t this interview be online? Who even does in-person interviews anymore?”

“You can’t live your whole life through a computer, Iggy.” Paige flips on the light, startling my rat, who squeals in his cage by the closet. “CalTek does things differently.”

“Yeah, well, you’d think they’d be all for it.”

Seriously, CalTek is one of the most innovative software developers on the West Coast. They were on the list of companies my professor sent out in August, offering internship interviews, but... I dropped the ball. Kind of forgot about it, honestly. By the time I received a passive-aggressive reminder from my professor, interviews were closed.

Lucky for me, though, I’ve got a sister who happens to work at CalTek as Head of Security. And she’s also dating one of the CEO’s twins. Both of whom need an assistant.

Woo-frickin’-hoo.

Pulling out a pair of suspenders, I clip them onto my belt as Paige grimaces.

“Suspenders? Really? Are we seventy?”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t pull them off,” I grin, flopping onto my bed to slip on my Chucks.

I need the suspenders to keep the pants up—my belt’s too big now. But if I tell Mom or Dad I need a new one, they’ll worry, and it’ll turn into a whole thing. Yada yada. No thanks.

My sister rolls her eyes, glancing at her phone. “Are you almost ready?”

No. This is sucky, and I don’t wanna go.

Giving her a noncommittal shrug, I move over to Master Splinter, my rat, to give him a treat. Then, I make my bed—slowly.

Next, I grab the watering can from my desk and tend to all my plants (there’s a lot) before deciding now’s a perfect time to check on my custom World of Warcraft server. Paige watches me the entire time, arms crossed, her heeled boot tapping against the floor. She has way more patience than I give her credit for.

It’s not until I start fiddling with my 3D printer that she snaps, marching over to gently but firmly grab my shoulders.

“Iggy,” she starts, using my childhood nickname. “Come on, what’s the deal? This is a great opportunity to get your foot in with an amazing company. Even Doctor Iskar thinks so. Don’t you want to work with me?”

“Of course I do.” Guilt washes over me as I avoid her gaze. “I just... don’t see why I can’t do this from home. I really, really wanna stay home, Paige.”

She studies me for a long moment, her fingers flexing on my arms. “I wish you’d talk to me. You were doing so well in August. Ubering, shopping with Dad, going on walks with Mom. But then everything just...” She trails off, and I shrink into myself, wishing I could curl up like an armadillo and roll away. “Two months, Igs. You haven’t left the house in two months. Is it because of what happened with that guy?”