Izzy is really starting to worry me.

She seems off. Ever since she got her gift she's been all over the place.

At first, I thought that she was just sad that it didn't turn out exactly how she wanted, but I don't know what to think.

She was obsessed for a week but she just drops it yesterday? I don't buy it.

Izzy is terrible at lying, at least to me. She thinks that she is great at it, but she is phenomenally bad. She gets very defensive when she lies and gets very set on changing the subject.

I met her at the front gate of school. She looked miserable, there were dark circles under her eyes and she looked like she might topple over at the slightest gust of wind.

She needed a hug. It's a good thing I'm such a good hugger. She groaned a little bit as I squeezed her. She'll never admit it, but she loves my hugs.

"Why?" She complained as I released her.

"Because you look terrible"

She laughed to herself a little, "I always look terrible"

I really wish that she would go easier on herself. She honestly didn't look bad. And I know, I'll never have to look at her through the lens of dysphoria that she sees herself through, but I hope that one day she can figure out that she's been way too harsh on herself.

She caught me giving her a disapproving look, "whaaat? It's true!" She pouted.

I only deepened my frown. She doesn't get to get away with that kind of negativity. Not on my watch!

"You know it's not! You're adorable." I shot her a playful grin, "Tiny"

She groaned again. I can't get over this nickname. It mostly came out as an accident at the time, but it was so perfect for her. Something about it just fit her personality.

She glared at me resentfully.

"Anyway," I continued, "are we doing any practicing tonight?"

I had to know what was up.

"Uhhh... no"

That does it. I really needed to figure out what the hell she was up to.

"So what are we doing?"

"I was also planning on spending today alone too"

Planning? She never plans anything. This is serious!

"-so how was the rest of your day yesterday?"

And now she's changing the subject again.

"Good," I played along with her and ran through what I did after school yesterday. "How was yours?"

She froze.

"I- uh... I" she stammered, "I can't remember?" It practically came out as a question, like she was asking if it was an adequate excuse, which it was not.

I hushed my voice, "Izzy" I wasn't going to deadname her, but I also wasn't going to out her to any nosy schoolmates close enough to hear our conversation, "What's up? I know you're hiding something"

"It's personal, I don't want you to worry"

Well, that's just going to make me worry even more!

"Please, Izzy. Just tell me" I begged her, I just need her to be safe, "Whatever it is, I promise I won't be angry."

"I- no," she shook her head, "I'm keeping this to myself"

Why does she have to be so stubborn sometimes! I'm just trying to help her and she won't let me.

"Izzy please, I just want to help"

"No! Emma just... drop it, please."

She was begging now. She really didn't want me to know about it whatever it was.

"Ughh fine. I'll stop. But if you ever need my help all you need to do is ask."

I didn't want to push her too far. She'll recede away from me even more if I do. It's got to be her choice to let me in. After she came out as trans to me I had hoped that she'd be more open about things. For the more part, she had been, but this was a pretty big exception, she wasn't going to budge.

"Thanks," she sighed in relief, "I will"

Why do I doubt that? Maybe because she has a very hard time asking for help. That's why I constantly offer support whenever I see her struggling with something. Whether or not she'll actually accept it is up to her.

When the bell rang we split up to go to our classes.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I'm still annoyed with Izzy. When we got into English she completely avoided the subject at all. Once school was out we parted ways and didn't talk for the rest of the day. That's fine, I'm sure she needs to sort her shit out.

Surprisingly I didn't have much homework for a Tuesday night, so I got a lot of time to work in my garden.

I had built my garden all by myself nearly a year ago. I had set up a white lattice fence around a small area in my backyard. I had specifically chosen that fencing because it was perfect for growing vines. The fences were covered in lush green vines and leaves and dotted with beautiful white flowers.

Along one of the fences I had planted dozens of roses of different colors; white, pink, red, and yellow. But I had also gotten my hands on some more unusual colors, There were also bright orange roses, vibrant purple, and my favorite: deep blue so dark it almost looked black. Something about them entranced me. They were so unique, I had never seen any other flowers like them.

When I was first shopping for seeds I had gone to basic gardening stores, but eventually, I moved onto smaller florist shops that seemed nearly out of business. Tucked away between two much larger buildings in the city, I had found an adorable shop. It was run by this sweet old man named Andrew. At first, I was wary of the store, but it had such an interesting selection of seeds and plants that I couldn't help but want to buy everything I set my eyes on.

I spent a lot of money there, like a lot of money. But it was totally worth it, his plants were awesome.

My garden was the perfect place to let out any pent-up frustration in a constructive manner, and I had a considerable amount of energy that I need to get out.

By the end of the day I was covered in dirt and sweat, but I was tired and the garden was looking pretty good. I had trimmed some of the bushes and vines and pulled all the weeds. It was a pretty successful day.

Wednesday was almost exactly the same, save for the dark gray clouds swirling overhead.

By nightfall, thunder had begun rumbling overhead and the clouds occasionally popped with flashes of light. Soon after, the faint pitter-patter of raindrops dotted the windows. Slowly the rainfall intensified, growing louder and more forceful as the night grew colder.

Loud thunderclaps echoed through the sky accompanied by flashes of light that flooded through the windows, illuminating the otherwise dark house.

I had been laying in bed, trying to sleep, but the booming thunder made that difficult.

Bang

just another distant lightning strike, nothing to worry about.

BANG Louder this time.

I ignored it once more

BANG BANG BANG

That's not thunder.

I sprang out of bed and rushed to the front door.

KNOCK KNOCK

It was clear now. They were knocks, not thunder.

I opened the door, revealing the culprit, a small girl.

Her dark red hair was drenched in ice-cold rainwater. So were her clothes, a brown shirt and dark blue skirt that clung to her legs under the weight of the rainwater.

"Izzy?"