The hallway to the kitchen is your only escape route. You walk quickly, head down, hoping that this time—just this time—they won’t be talking about the same thing. But of course. They’re there. Ray, sitting on the couch with that soft smile that melts you even when you don’t want it to. Frank, with his feet on the table as if it were his house. And Mikey… Mikey always so excited, so proud.

—You looked incredible! Frank says, laughing. That dress fit you perfectly.

—Illi just has such a unique style, Ray adds.

Because yes. You’re in love with Ray. Your brothers’ friend. The one who smiles at you when you arrive, the one who listens when you speak… but who never looks at you the way he looks at Illi. You grab your plate of food and cross the living room on tiptoes, as if you didn’t want to exist. But Mikey sees you. Mikey always sees you.

—Hey he says suddenly. Right? Our little sister looks great, doesn’t she?

And the expression that comes out of you… even if you tried, you couldn’t soften it. It’s pure disgust, pure exhaustion, pure compressed anger. Mikey raises his eyebrows. Frank snickers quietly. Ray looks at you with that mix of concern and curiosity that only irritates you more, because you know that if you thought of Illi that way, he would notice. But he doesn’t. He notices nothing.

—Uh… everything okay? Ray asks.

And you want to scream no. That it’s not okay that EVERYTHING in this house revolves around your sister. That you can’t stand hearing one more comment about her transition, about her style, about how beautiful she looks. That you feel invisible. That it hurts that Ray always looks in her direction and never in yours.