“She’s correct.”
The project became unofficial:
Still Me Hoodies.
Not nonprofit.
Not company.
Just a box in child-life room with blank hoodies and fabric patches children could decorate during long stays.
Some wore scars.
Some lost hair.
Some had feeding tubes.
Some had burns.
Some had nothing visible and still wanted a hoodie.
No requirement.
The purpose was not hiding.
It was choice.
A hood could be up.
Down.
Decorated.
Plain.
Lily liked that.
Then came school.
That was worse than hospital lobby.
She had been home almost eight weeks.
Her class knew she had brain surgery.
The teacher had explained only with family permission.
Children had made cards.
Most kind.
But Lily knew kindness could still stare.
Her hair had grown about half an inch over shaved area.
Scar remained visible.
The morning she returned, she stood at front door wearing pink hoodie.
Emily asked:
“Up or down?”
Lily said:
“Up.”
“Okay.”
At school entrance, Marcus was nowhere.
No biker escort.
Emily had considered asking.
Lily said no.
“I’m not baby.”
Good.
She walked inside.
The first twenty minutes went well.
Friends hugged.
Teacher cried slightly.
Lily rolled eyes.
Then recess.
A boy named Tyler stared.
Not cruel initially.
Just curious.
“What happened to your head?”
Lily froze.
Another child whispered:
“Brain surgery.”
Tyler leaned.
“Can I see scar?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
He followed.
“Does it go all the way around?”
“No.”
“Did they take your brain out?”
“No.”
“Did they put metal?”
“No.”
“Were you dead?”
Lily turned.
“Stop.”
Tyler stopped.
For one minute.
Then said:
“My brother says staples make you Frankenstein.”
Lily’s face collapsed.
A child laughed nervously.
Tyler realized too late.
Lily ran.
She locked herself in bathroom stall.
The school called Emily.
By the time she arrived, counselor had coaxed Lily out.
Emily wanted to remove her immediately.
Lily wanted to go home.
They did.
That afternoon Lily threw the pink hoodie across bedroom.
“I hate it.”
Emily sat by door.
“Okay.”
“I hate school.”
“Okay.”
“I hate Tyler.”
“That one I understand.”
Lily cried.
“I am Frankenstein.”
“No.”
“You weren’t there.”
“No.”
Emily took breath.
“Do you want Marcus?”
“No.”