an excerpt [12]

   When we joined the group around the fire, I was greeted with smiles and hugs and it felt normal—except better. Justin had his guitar, which put me at ease. I dug my toes into the sand, listening to his music mix with the waves lazily rolling onto the beach.

   There was something about those people. My people. They loved me, and they knew when I needed support even though not everyone agreed with what I believed. That’s what good friends do. They don’t judge.

   They love.

   I looked at the beautiful faces of my friends, yellow in the light of the fading sun and the fire. Those faces were my faces. Their names were etched on my heart, and mine was on theirs. They had left an imprint in me, soft in some places, hard in others.

   And I’d done the same to them.

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Rebekah