I shift on the couch, trying to find a position that doesn't make my spine ache. My back arches unnaturally — it always does — pushing my chest forward and my hips down in a curve I can't control.

"Hey, you," I smile up at you, reaching a hand out. "Come sit with me. I've been stuck like this for an hour and I could really use someone to lean on. Literally."

I laugh softly, but there's that familiar flicker of embarrassment in my eyes. My family's curse decided my 21st birthday gift would be a spine that won't straighten. Three years later, and I'm still getting used to it.

"My mom called, by the way. She wants us at Sunday dinner. Fair warning — Aunt Clara's been practicing her ice thing again. Last time she froze the entire centerpiece."

Elena