I don’t know why I agreed with Alex Reeves at the funeral. I think maybe because I was thinking the same thing. What a load of horse crap. The minister didn’t know Grace. I’m not entirely sure I did either. I mean, I knew she was struggling a bit, but God, I never thought she would kill herself. I should’ve seen the signs. This is what I’m thinking as I put my paltry handful of dirt on her casket. I’m sorry, Grace. I failed you. I feel empty, as though I am missing my other half. I step back from the grave to stand with my parents, tears running silently down my face. I look across the hole and see Alex. Her face is flushed and tear-stained and her big, beautiful, chocolate brown eyes stare into space...What am I doing? What. The. Hell. Am. I. Doing? Alex was my sister’s best friend! And maybe more...I’m pretty good at reading people, and I saw that Alex liked my sister. A lot. Maybe not deeply enough for it to be love, but enough for it to still hurt like hell.

I’m silent on the car ride home. I miss Grace. So. F***ing. Badly. I use my clenched fist to scrape away my tears. I should be strong for my parents. Mom is pale and shaking. Dad’s jaw is clenched, a muscle in his jaw twitching. I want to scream. I hike up my dress and scratch my leg with my fingernails. The pain calms me a little. Mom is too zoned out to notice and Dad is looking at the road like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

I wake up with her name in my mouth. Grace. I lie on my back, caught in a paralysis of grief. I need to do something. I need to vent this pain. I grab my phone and quickly scroll through the contacts. Who would be up at...3:21 AM? Kelsie? No. Jen? No. Alex? Alex. Yes. I tap her name and quickly type. Grief bubbles up in me. Why am I texting Alex? Maybe because she’s the only one who will understand.

Hey u up?

Her text comes seconds later.

Of course. Cant sleep?

Ha. i dont even know what that is anymore.

Yeah…

You never answered my question.

??

Did u love grace?

>:(

Srry.

Its fine.

Y r u up? I mean, besides the obvious

I miss her so badly it hurts

Why am I spilling my guts to Alex? I barely know her. I should stop.

Me 2

R u there?

Ginny?

??

Did u fall asleep?

Ok...bye, i guess

These are the texts I see the next morning. I feel bad for Alex. Then I remember that it’s Monday. I have to go to school today. Oh crap. I grab the edges of my sheets and shiver, inhaling deeply. I can’t do this. I can’t. I imagine the looks of sickening pity people will give me. My hands shake. Oh Grace. If only you were here.

I dress carefully, slowly, delaying the moment when I have to leave the relative safety of my house. I pull on jeans. TOP t-shirt. Perfectly broken-in ballet flats. I debate about applying makeup, then decide it’s not worth it. I skip breakfast. I can’t remember the last time I ate. Yesterday? The day before? Who cares? On my way out the door, I snag one of Grace’s old sweatshirts and pull it on. It smells like her and I feel the ache in my stomach. Luckily and unluckily, I walk to school every day. Luckily because I walk alone (I used to walk with Grace) and unluckily because alone means thinking. I stuff my hands in my pockets. Grace. I miss you. Where are you? Where is my other half? Losing a sibling hurts enough. But losing a twin? They were your heart. Your best friend. Your secret self. You had your own language, you had your inside jokes. It f***ing hurts like hell. No, worse than hell. And it is it’s own special torture that I never told Grace that I’m lesbian. I was so scared she would reject me, so self-involved that I never saw through her f***ing mask!

I reach school all too soon. McRory High. Hell’s nuclear waste facility, as Grace so lovingly called it. I feel the ache of tears in my eyes and quickly blink them away. Shut up, heart. It’ll be fine.
 

Ginny’s an enigma. After last night’s events, in which Ginny texted me first, said she missed Grace, then abruptly stopped replying, I’ve decided that. She’s not like Grace. Not at all. Grace was open and honest and always spilled everything the moment I asked. Ginny is closed-off and secretive and silent. It’s intriguing and makes me miss Grace all the more.

A ball of paper hits my ear, jerking me out of my revery. I scowl and flick the paper back at whoever threw it. The bus is loud and I am generally ignored, which is a relief. At home, my parents are constantly worrying over me, asking if I’m okay. It’s touching and tiring at the same time. I don’t have enough time alone to mourn her properly. Grace. I swallow and run my hand through my short hair (It’s a pixie cut, with straight bangs falling over my eyes. I am strange-looking because I have blond hair, pale skin, and warm brown eyes). I rub my puffy eyes to stop any possible tears. Grace, I miss you. I gasp a shaky breath. “Hey, you okay?” Someone next to me asks. “Grand.” I reply. “I heard about your friend. I’m sorry.” The voice says. I don’t look at them, just nod and turn away.

I’m the last person off the bus. After everyone stampedes down the steps, I walk down slowly. “Bye, Alex.” My busdriver, Mr. G, calls. “See ya Mr. G.” I yell back. I step onto the concrete and he peels out, rubber burning. I wrinkle my nose at the stench and start to work my way through the crowd in front of the doors. I keep my head down. I don’t want any well-meaning “friend” to notice me. But alas. It is not to be.

“Hey, Alex!” I heave a breath, gulp down the lump in my throat, and turn around. Priscilla Montero struts up to me. She’s very popular. I’ve never spoken to her. “Hello, Priscilla.” I say warily. Her usual entourage comes up behind her. Taylor and Amanda nod hello. “I heard about your friend. Garret or Green or whatever.” Priscilla says snottily. “Grace.” I say in a dangerous tone. Call her Garret one more f***ing time and I’ll break your neck. “Right. Grace. Well, sorry about her. I heard she, like, killed herself. Slit her wrists. I heard you found, like, her body. Is that true?” She asks in a low, secretive voice. But I know as soon as I tell her, she’ll tell the whole f***ing school. I’m paralyzed by indecision. I don’t want to be rude.

“Go away, Priscilla.” A voice says from behind me. Amanda and Taylor gasp. I spin around. Ginny stands there, her hands on her hips. “I was just asking a question.” Priscilla says, her face a mask of fake hurt. “Oh, like hell you were.” Ginny scoffs, but I see the muscles around her eyes tighten, just like Grace’s used to. Grace. My chest pangs with hurt. I gasp and raise a hand to rub it. Tears spring to my eyes and I quickly scrub them away. “Fine.” Priscilla says. She ushers her minions along with a manicured hand and they disappear in a puff of expensive perfume.

“You’re welcome.” Ginny says after a moment. “Thanks, I guess.” I laugh slightly. “Today’s gonna be hell.” She states. I nod. “I know.”

Ginny walks me to class and I ask her why she stopped responding. She hesitates, then gives a light laugh. “Musta fallen asleep. Sorry.” She says. “That’s Grace’s favorite sweatshirt, isn’t it?” I ask, but I’m not really asking. I know it is. She blushes slightly, then nods. “Yeah.” “Why are you wearing it?” “I don’t know...it’s like a piece of her, you know? It makes it...whatever.” Ginny shrugs, embarrassed, but I see right through her mask. She’s hurting. “Yeah...I know.” I look down at my Doc Martens and almost whimper from the pain of missing her. “Do you want it?” Ginny asks suddenly. I look up. “Um. Sure?” I say. Ginny pulls it over her head and hands it to me. I am struck by how selfless an act this is. I see the look on her face. She’s in pain, and giving me this sweatshirt is like losing Grace all over again. I take it and press it to my face despite myself. It smells like her. Lilacs and lemongrass. It aches inside me. I miss you, Grace. “Um, Alex? You good?” I raise my head. “Yes.” Ginny turns to leave, but I catch her shoulder. “Ginny. Thank you.” Her face twists for a moment, then she offers me a weak smile and says “No problem.” And walks away.

Class is hard. Everyone, including the teacher, toss me pitying looks and pats on the back. I slump in my seat and try my hardest to lose myself in algebra.

Alex is weird. But it intrigues me. I don’t know why I gave her the sweatshirt. Maybe it was because she looked so small and pale and helpless I couldn’t help but want her to be happy. God. Why is Alex suddenly in my thoughts so much? I mean, sure, she was Grace’s best friend, but I never really even talked to her that much. And now I can’t f***ing stop thinking about her big brown eyes and beautiful mouth and cute nose and-what the f***? Sure, I’m gay, but why do I feel like this? It’s not like I have a crush on her! Even if I did, I’m not allowed to do that! Alex liked Grace. But then again, my heart doesn’t really respect the rules...oh s***.

I sit in class silently, which is unusual. Normally I’m laughing and joking and generally being a smartass. Not today. “Hey, Ginny!” My friend, Jackie, says over-enthusiastically. “Hey.” I reply wearily. “I’m sorry about Grace.” She says. I guess that was your good deed for today. I shrug. “You look tired.” Jackie says. Just leave me be. “I am tired.” I respond. I don’t want to talk to her, I don’t want to talk to anybody. They all expect me to be smart-alecky and funny and crazy. I’m tired and quiet and grieving. I just want them to leave me alone.

“Hey honey.” Mom calls when I walk through the front door. I grunt in response. “How...how was school?” She asks as I get a snack. “Grand.” I say sarcastically. “Oh Ginny…” Mom says sympathetically. I shrug. “You seem to be spending a lot of time with Alex.” Mom mentions, trying hard to be casual. I give her a look, but I can’t muster the urge to be sarcastic. She’s so pale and tired-looking. “What, no sharp comeback?” Mom asks with a weary smile. “People change.” I shrug again and put in my earbuds.

This is what I do in the afternoon. Walk. I put on loud music and walk around and around my neighborhood. It drowns the pain, the monotony of one foot, two foot, one foot, two foot. Mom doesn’t think it’s healthy, she says I have to “deal” with losing Grace, but she doesn’t know that I deal with it at 3am when I can’t f***ing close my eyes without seeing her face. I try to delay the inevitable time when I have to think about her. But now, for some reason, Alex sneaks into my head. I’m starting to think she’s the only one who understands. She liked Grace (although she won’t admit it), not in the same way I loved her, but close enough that she gets what it’s like to lose your other half. It’s like all my secrets died with Grace. Something draws me towards Alex. I want to be her friend. Maybe we could help each other or some cheesy bullshit like that. God, I’m losing it.

That’s why I pull out my phone and call her.

Ring, ring, ring!

Alex: Hello?

Me: Hey.

Alex: Oh, hi...what’s up?

What do I say now?

Me: I don’t know.

Alex: Okay…?

Me: …

Alex: …

Me (blurts): We should do something.

Alex: Um...like what? And why?

Me: I don’t know, something fun, to get our minds off...you know.

Alex: Yeah…

Me: Besides, I think you’re pretty cool and I want to get to know you.

Alex: Well, somebody’s feeling honest today.

Me: …

Alex: Meet you at the movie theater in ten?

Me: Sure.

I guess I’m going to hang out? With Alex? But just as friends...right?

I walk there, nervously smoothing my straight black hair. I get there in only five minutes, so I hang out by the huge fountain out front. Some fourteen year old boys with brand-new leather jackets and try-hard peach fuzz catcall at me from the ticket line but I give them the finger and they leave me alone. I’m staring at my reflection in the artificially blue water when Alex’s face appears beside mine. “Hey.” She says. I don’t look up immediately, just stare at her face. “Hey.” I say back. “What do you want to do?” She asks. “I don’t care.” I meant to say I don’t know. She c***s an eyebrow at me. “Um.” I say charmingly.

We end up sitting on a railing behind the theater. “So.” “So.” I reply. “Twenty questions: What’s your lucky number?” Ginny asks. “12.” I reply. “Favorite number?” Ginny says. “326.” I say without a second’s hesitation. “Why?” She asks, tilting her head curiously. “3 times 2 is 6.” Ginny laughs. I like listening to her laugh. It’s pleasant and deep, like you just told the first joke in the world.

“So what’s your favorite color?” I ask. “Okay...enough with the trivial questions.” Ginny says, her tone airy but her eyes heavy. She’s shutting me out. Why? “Okay, what do you want to talk about?” I inquire. “Do you believe in God?” Ginny says. Grace. Is Grace in Heaven? She must be. “Alex. Earth to Alex.” Ginny waves her hand in front of my face. “Huh?” I look at her.

She looks so much like her sister, but I’m starting to realize they’re completely different. “Do. You. Believe. In. God?” Ginny says slowly, teasing me. I mock-sneer at her and say “Sometimes.” Ginny snorts. “How do you “sometimes” believe in God?” I shrug. “Sometimes, I see or feel something that can’t be explained except by divine intervention, but then other times I think that there can’t possibly be a God. I mean, how could he let bad things happen to us if he supposedly “loves us so much”?” Ginny looks at me differently, like I’m suddenly twice as interesting. “Good point.” She mumbles, as if to herself but not quite. “Good point.”

A couple seconds of silence pass. I push my hair off my forehead and blow out a big breath. “What?” Ginny asks. “Oh, nothing.” I say back. “Okay.” We sit in silence again. It’s a comfortable silence. We’re sitting close, close enough that I can feel the heat coming off her body. Which is great, by the way. I shake my head suddenly, trying to get rid of that thought. What’s wrong with me? I like Grace. Not her twin sister, with her big gray eyes and full mouth and long nose and-oh no. OH NO. I’M FALLING FOR GINNY. S***.

I think my eyes reveal my panic, because Ginny touches the back of my hand. “You okay?” She asks, concerned. I nod stiffly. “Yeah.” Trying to hide the shock emanating from the spot where her skin is still touching mine. Can’t breathe. It’s only Ginny’s fingertips touching my hand but God. I can’t even think. My entire being is focused on that one point. Then she lifts her hand and places it in her lap. She seems embarrassed. I should leave, but I can’t. F***ing. Move.

“Hey, Alex, guess what?” Ginny blurts suddenly. “Wha-?” But before I even get all the way through my what, she leans over and kisses me on the cheek. I’m frozen and Ginny’s eyes are hard and wild with daring. “Thank you. For...for loving my sister.” Ginny says. “I…” I reach up and touch my cheek. “Um...you’re welcome?” I say uncertainly. Ginny smiles triumphantly. “So you admit it!” She says loudly. I scowl. “You dirty little trickster.” I say, but I’m fighting a smile. She sees it. “Guilty as charged.” Ginny grins, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. I like that. I like the clever comebacks. I like that she always talks in a sort of rhythm, like poetry. I like the lilt, the easy cadence of her speech. I like that she has deep conversations behind a movie theater with her dead sister’s best friend. I like everything about her. This is dangerous.
 

I like that. I like that she is uncertain, I like that she never seems to quite know what to say. I like that she gestures with her hands when she talks, making elaborate circles and swirls in the air. I like that she tilts her head slightly when she’s listening to you. I like that she talks like she has nothing left to lose. I like everything about her. This is dangerous.

I can’t remember what went through my head when I kissed her cheek. Maybe part of it was thanks for loving Grace, but most of it was because I wanted to. Alex is talking, but I’m so lost in her big brown eyes I can’t f***ing hear a word. My hands twist together in my lap. “Hey, are you okay?” Alex touches my shoulder. I snap back to reality. “Oh, yeah.” I nod vigorously, too vigorously. She doesn’t seem to notice.

“What’s being in love like?” I ask suddenly. Why did I say that? What the hell is wrong with me? Alex swallows hard, her throat bobbing. I can see the spot where her shirt collar meets her skin. I want to kiss her there. “Um, well, I wouldn’t exactly say that I loved your sister but...I did like her. A lot.” I can tell this is hard for her to admit. “So...are you...you know...lesbian?” I ask tentatively. “Um.” Alex shrugs. She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. “So…what...?” I don’t know what to say. “I…” She trails off and takes a deep breath. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I’ve just never told anyone except Grace this. And I have no earthly idea why I’m trusting you with this. I mean, you barely know me!” Alex chuckles nervously. I can tell she thinks she’s said too much. “I know more about you than you think.” I realize how creepy that sounds. “Because, you know, Grace. Never. Ever. Shut. Up. About you.” I reiterate. This is clearly news to her. “Seriously?” Alex asks. She pushes her bangs out of her eyes. I shrug. “Well, yeah.” I reply candidly. Alex blows out a breath, surprised.

We sit there for a moment in silence. “You were going to tell me something...?” I prompt. “Oh, right. Well...I’m...I’m non-binary. You know, I don’t, um, really have a specific gender.” Alex stutters. I don’t say anything at first. “Sorry...I s-s-s-stutter when I get n-n-nervous.” She apologizes. I wave it away with an idle hand. “Okay, so you’re non-binary. What pronouns?” I ask her. “Uh... she and her work fine.” Alex says. “Alright.” I say. Alex seems surprised that I’m so chill about it. “That’s it? No big gasp or anything?” She asks me. I c*** an eyebrow. “Um, no. So you’re in-between. Big whoop.” I say. “Well...thanks.” She says. “For what?” I ask, confused. “For...never mind.”

We hang out back there for a while longer, but nothing we say really matters as much as that conversation. Alex trusted me with her secret. A secret that nobody else knows.

The night is hard. Grace is in my head. I spend hours crying and screaming into my pillow. Why, Grace? Why did you have to leave? Couldn’t you just have asked for help? God, it hurts...please just end this, God, end me! Let me be with Grace...But worst of all, I cut myself fourteen times with a thin razor. Nine times on my left thigh and five times on my left wrist. Not anything super bad, just thin cuts. But still.

I have to wear a long sleeve shirt the next day and, unluckily for me, it’s warmer than normal for April. Mom doesn’t ask why I’m wearing long sleeves though. I skip breakfast (again, the last time I ate was lunch after Grace’s funeral, three days ago) and decide to ride the bus today. I don’t feel like walking. I board the smelly steps and find a faux-leather seat in the back. It’s loud and noisy. I read the assigned book for ELA, keeping my head down. Nobody seems to notice me much.

Before long, we get to school. Wow, that was much faster than walking. I get off last and walk slowly to first period. My whole body feels heavy and tired. Nothing matters anymore. I try to convince myself of that but a little voice deep down says Alex. Alex does. Shut up, stupid voice.

I’m sitting alone at lunch when I feel a body beside me. I turn. Alex sits next to me, her tray loaded with mac and cheese. “Hey.” She says in greeting. “Hey.” I say back. I continue pushing my chicken around with my fork and she shovels a forkful of cheesy noodles into her mouth. “Ugh. I should’ve brought lunch.” She complains, swallowing. I laugh. “Probably.” “Hey,” Alex says, noticing my full tray, “Why aren’t you eating?” I shrug and turn red. “Not hungry.” I lie. “Uh-huh.” She mumbles, but says nothing else.

“Ugh, it’s so hot out here! It’s April! Make up your mind, Mother Nature! Stop f***ing with my emotions!” Alex says loudly as we walk to our trailer class. It’s third period, the only class we have together. We’re running late because Alex forgot her books in her locker. I pretend not to hear her, try to distract myself by thinking of Grace. Owch. My throat aches from withheld tears. You never can love someone as much as you miss them, I think. “Hey, you okay?” Alex asks, touching my wrist. I wince and nod. She notices. “What’s wrong?” She asks. I shake my head. “Nothing.” I reply. Alex frowns. “You’re a bad liar.” I laugh. “I know.” She doesn’t laugh. “Seriously. What’s up?” She lightly wraps her fingers around my wrist, bringing me to a halt. She’s touching me. I can’t breathe. “Ginny.” One word, my name, is all it takes. I let the tears spill over, let myself break down. Let myself be vulnerable in front of her, even though I don’t hardly know Alex. “Oh, sweetheart.” Alex hugs me. I sob into her chest. “I-I-I-I…” I collapse into more hysterics. “C’mon. Let’s go somewhere to talk.”

We end up behind the auditorium. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Alex says. I’m shaking. She guides me down to sit on the ground, my back against the brick wall. “I...miss her. Grace. God, I miss her.” I whimper pathetically. Alex sits beside me. “I know.” She hesitantly touches my hair. “It hurts.” I whisper. “Shh. It’ll be okay.” Her voice is thick with emotion, so thick I’m surprised she can talk. “How are you so strong right now?” I ask him. She shrugs stiffly. “I’m not.” Alex’s voice is soft. Then I throw caution and duty and that other s*** to the wind.

I lean into her, pressing my ear against her chest. Alex stiffens in surprise, then relaxes, putting her arm around me. I try to sob quietly, but before long I’m making awful noises, soaking her shirt. “Can you show me your wrist?” She asks quietly. I shudder. “Shh.” She mumbles into my ear. I take a deep breath and carefully pull up my sleeve. I hear her quick intake of breath. “Oh, Ginny.” She breathes. Alex extends a steady hand and I feel her fingertips touch my cuts. Everything’s dead quiet and I can feel every contour of her skin. Alex gently traces my arm. She seems so in control, even with a sobbing girl on her chest, that I can’t help but ask. “Alex, do you ever cry?” I feel her smile without seeing it, but I know it’s a bitter one, not happy. She seems to break down for a moment. “Only...only when no one can see me.” “Am I no one?” I whisper. “Ginny...you’re everyone.” She murmurs roughly.

I gasp silently. Did she just say that? “Um…” Alex says louder. She sounds so pathetically uncertain that I can’t help but hug her. “Thanks...I guess.” I say. Alex’s whole body shivers. Her and I seem to have temporarily forgotten that we are only friends. Maybe not even that. Just two people grieving the same person. I don’t mind, though. “Do you miss her?” I seem to ask Alex this frequently. “I…” Then I feel her body shake with a sob, like a thunderclap. Then another. I can’t say anything, I’m paralyzed. I feel the top of my head grow damp from her tears. After a while, she speaks. “More than anything.” 

“I...I should go to class.” I get up quickly. I was wrong to think that we could ever have a moment with just me and her. Grace will always be there, always be between us. Alex scrambles up too. Her face is red and tear-stained. “Yeah...yeah, you’re right.” She gulps hard. I smile half-heartedly and start to walk away. “Hey! Hey,” Alex calls. I turn around. “Are we...are we friends?” I smile in earnest this time. “Yeah. We’re friends, Alex.”

I shouldn’t have said that she was everyone. That’s what made her leave. I know it. But God, I was feeling so vulnerable and her question caught me unawares and...God. I’ve really screwed up.

But it felt really good, holding her behind the school. I was stroking her hair. It was so soft and smooth. What is wrong with me? I need to stop thinking about the girl with blue-gray eyes like seafoam and bony hands that are the kind you want to interlace with your own and - STOP IT.

At the end of school, I walk home instead of taking the bus. More time to mull over Ginny. Why did I say that? Why in the name of God did I say that? I can feel myself panicking, overthinking every little thing I did, but I can’t help it. This girl...she’s dangerous. I shouldn’t be thinking about her so much. I should be thinking about Grace! I feel the now familiar pang of sadness and pain that comes with her name. I rub my chest and try to forget.

Friends. Friends. What does that mean? I mull over this as I watch stupid YouTube videos. I mean, obviously we’re friends. But...could she possibly like me? Is it stupid to think that. I scowl at the cat on computer screen and slam my laptop closed. I lean back in my rolly chair and frown at the ceiling. Ugh. I hate this. I like her, but I hate this. I run my hands through my hair and exhale a heavy breath. I’m bored. My head aches. I scrub my eyes with my palms and reach for my bag of pills. I unzip it and take a handful of maybe ten or eleven. Just before I pop them into my mouth, I look at them, roll them around in my palm. The whiteness of them blinds me. I quickly gulp them down dry, leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. They should take effect in a couple of minutes…

Holy s***. I feel great! Better than ever! I stand up from chair, giggling when the room swoops around me. I grab my desk for balance. My eyes land on a picture of me and Grace at Disney World. Immediately, an awful, aching sadness shoots through me. Tears spring to my eyes. The world seems empty and hopeless. I think about Ginny. She’s so pretty. So beautiful. Even more beautiful than Grace. I smile stupidly. I’m gonna text her. I grab my phone, almost dropping it, before I tap on Ginny’s name and start typing.

Me: HEYYYY

Ginny: um...hi?

Me: WHATCHA DOIN??

Ginny: whats with the caps?

Me: I DONT KNOW!!!!!

Ginny: ...did u take something? pills??

Me: ...MAYBE ;)

Ginny: alex...wth...stay where u r, im coming over

Me: YAYYYYY

Ginny: shut up and dont do anything stupid

Me: YES MAM

Ginny: ^^^^ SHUT UP

Me: YAWR NOT VRY POLITE

Me: HURRY UPPPPP

Me: WHERE R U???

The doorbell rings. Ginny’s here! I run downstairs and open the door. Ginny stands on my porch, shivering from the rain. She takes one look at my face and sighs. “What the f***, Alex?” Ginny shakes her head and rubs her temples. I grin wildly. “C’mon, silly, you’re getting soaked!” I grab her arm and pull her inside. Ginny shakes me off. We stand there for a moment, me smiling crazily, her watching me with tired eyes. “Let’s go upstairs and get you dried off!” I say enthusiastically. Ginny rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

We go upstairs into my room. Ginny stands there dripping water on my carpet while I rummage through my closet for clothing. I end up with an extra-huge sweatshirt. It hangs to my shins, so it should fit her. Ginny sighs. “Where can I change?” She asks. I look around. “What’s wrong with here?” I ask with a silly laugh. Deep down, I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help myself. The pills own me. Ginny growls deep in her throat and sighs again. “Fine.” She steps out of her shoes, then her socks, and I see a vulnerability in her eyes unlike anything I’ve ever seen before from her. I start to turn around, but she says “You don’t have to turn around.” My eyes widen and I grin stupidly. “Okay.” Ginny slowly takes off her jeans, peeling them off. I can’t look away from her bare, damp legs. My hands shake and I shove them in my pockets. She locks eyes with me and I refuse to look away. My room, the coldest room in the house, suddenly feels hot. I can’t move, I can’t move, I can’t move. Ginny raises her arms and pulls off her shirt. I gasp. Her ribs, stomach, collarbone, shoulders, and thighs are laced with thin white scars. She’s skinny, too. I can count her ribs. It is strange that I find her even more gorgeous than before?

Ginny looks bashful. She’s wearing only a thin bra and underwear. Her cheeks color themselves red and she looks down. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” She whispers. The pills force courage, or maybe just adrenaline, into my veins. I take a step towards her, then another. Ginny looks up quickly. “You’re beautiful.” I murmur. Her hands touch her own ribs lightly. “Really?” She asks softly. “Would I lie to you?” I ask her. Ginny smiles gently. “I…” I reach out a hand and touch her ribs. She shivers. “You what?” She asks. “I like you, Ginny. I like you a lot.” I burst out, a slightly hysterical note in my voice. I feel cold and hot and shivery and reckless.

Ginny doesn’t say anything for a few moments. I feel my heart sink. “I like you too.” Ginny says, so soft I almost don’t hear it. And then we’re kissing. Her almost-naked body is flush against mine and her hand is on my neck and around my waist and both of mine are in her hair and God, I want this girl. I want her so f***ing bad. We fall back on my bed and there are too many layers between us. Ginny pushes her hands under my clothes and pulls off my shirt and I kick off my jeans and her mouth is on my neck. “Ginny.” I say softly, then louder. “Ginny.” My heart is beating so fast. Ginny mumbles something into my lips. “Alex.” She whispers. I gently touch her scars, her battle wounds. I kiss each one, slowly. She arches her back. “Alex. I love you. I love you so much.” She whimpers. I physically feel the words hit me, like tiny daggers. Love. She loves me. Is this too much? This feels dangerous. But at this moment, I don’t care. “I love you too. So f***ing much.” I kiss her harder, as if to erase what I just said, even though I meant it.

We’re clumsy and hesitant and shy and we giggle occasionally, but God. God. Nothing has ever felt so good and right and real.

I. Love. Alex. I. Had. Sex. With. Alex. OH S***. I’m losing my mind. Am I betraying Grace? I am, aren’t I? But not really, I mean, it’s not like Grace was in love with Alex. I’m losing my f***ing mind.

I should text her. I’m in my room and it’s late, but I know she’ll be up.

Me: hi

Alex: hi

Me: so…

Alex: so…

Me: hows your night been?

Alex: grand

Me: ha

Alex: ...

Alex: okay, elephant in the room, we had sex and it was f***ing amazing

Me: ...i love you...and yeah, it kinda was

Alex: KINDA?! KINDA?! THAT WAS THE BEST SEX IVE EVER HAD!!

Me: and youve had a lot of sex before?

Alex: ...um...good point...

Me: thought so. what happens now?

Alex: wanna go out with me?

Me: yes

Alex: YAY

Me: *rolls eyes* did ya think i’d say no?

Alex: i wanna kiss you

Me: ...good night, alex

Alex: night beautiful

Me: how bout you and i actually get some sleep tonight, you goon?

Alex: i dont think that’ll happen, do u?

Me: ZZzzzZZz it already has

I put my phone down and grin like an idiot. I love her. A lot. Wow. I never thought it could be like this.

I agree to meet Alex in front of school. “Hi.” I say. “Hi.” She says. I reach for her, but then I realize where we are. “Oh.” I let my arms fall. Alex gives me a sheepish half-grin. “Yeah. We’ve gotta figure some parts of this out.” She says. Students stream around us, heading for the doors. A few glance at us, but they keep moving. Alex gestures towards the entrance. “Shall we, milady?” She asks, bowing elegantly. Oh wow, I want to kiss you. “We shall, sir knight!” I reply gallantly.

We walk to class together, close to each other, our shoulders touching, but we can’t hold hands, not here. It’s torture. I can tell Alex feels it too. What are we going to do about this? “See you at lunch, beautiful.” Alex whispers in my ear and I jolt back to the present. “Bye.” I say. She smiles and goes into her history class. I stand there in the hallway for a minute, dazed, before Mrs. Belks ushers me off to class.

I can’t pay attention. I tap my pencil against the desk until everyone in the class is giving me dirty looks. Alex. Alex. The name drives out all others. God. I should be paying attention. I try to focus, but she just keeps slipping into my mind. What do we do about us? Should we...you know...come out? What happens if they don’t accept us? Will we have to break up? I can’t bear that, I simply can’t bear it!

“Ginny. GINNY.” “Huh?” I look up. Mrs. Hill and half the class is staring at me. “I’m sorry, what was the question?” I ask, blushing. Mrs. Hill sighs. “Ginny, may I see you in the hall for a moment, please?” She asks. I shrug. I don’t see that I have much of a choice. “Um, yeah, I guess.” Mrs. Hill holds the door open. I walk out and wait for her to close it against the snickers of the class. The hallway is empty and silent. I lean against the wall. “Ginny, Ginny, Ginny.” Mrs. Hill shakes her head. Get to the point, lady. “What?” I ask. “Look, honey, I know you’re hurting because of your sister, but your grades are suffering.” I gulp at the mention of Grace. It hurts to hear a practical stranger talk about her. I shrug and look at my shoes. “You have to try to pay attention.” Mrs. Hill lectures. I feel my eyes sting and force myself to look up. “Yes ma’am.” Mrs. Hill doesn’t notice the tears. “Good.” “May I use the restroom?” I ask quickly. “Er...yes, go ahead.” Mrs. Hill replies.

I practically sprint for the bathroom. Oh God oh God oh God. My head aches. I bolt myself into a stall and press my forehead against the door. Breathe, Ginny. Grace. Grace. I want to scream. Grace, I’m sorry. I failed you. Please, come back. I can’t do this without you. I’m crying quietly, my mouth twisted in a silent howl. I drop into a crouch, pushing my fingers into my hair. I want to cry, but instead my eyes just burn. I fumble in my pockets and withdraw the pencil sharpener blade I put in there earlier. I sit on the floor and roll up my sleeves. But then I hesitate. You deserve it, Ginny. Do it. It will make you feel better. I run the blade over my wrist. The blood beads up and I feel calmer, watching it drip onto the floor. I make another cut, and another. Soon, my arm is cut from wrist to elbow. The blood pools in the crook of my arm and the palm of my hand. They sting and I feel better. My shoulders relax and I take deep breaths. It’s okay, Ginny.

“Ginny? Ginny?” The voice is familiar. It’s Alex. Oh no. She can’t see me like this. “Um, yeah?” I call out. “Ginny!” Her voice is full of relief. “What are you doing in here?” I ask. “Someone said you ran in here crying...I wanted to see if you were okay.” I hear her clear her throat quietly. “I’m fine, Alex.” I quickly roll up my sleeve, send up a quick prayer that it won’t bleed through, and unlock the door. Alex looks anxious. “Are you sure? Why were you crying?” She asks me. I shrug. “Nothing, it was stupid.” I tuck my arm behind my back. “Ginny...what’s that?” Damn. She doesn’t miss a thing, does she? “Nothing.” I say. Alex looks dubious. “Uh-huh. Ginny, show me.” She says. I back up. “Um, nothing to show.” Fear bubbles in my chest. “Ginny…” Alex says slowly. “Nothing’s wrong, baby.” I say. “I don’t believe you.” She says. “The scary thing is, you don’t have to.” I say. “But I want to.” Alex replies. How do I distract her?

I move towards Alex quickly and kiss her. She seems surprised and doesn’t kiss me back at first, so I press harder. Alex recovers and responds, but only half-heartedly before she pushes me away gently. “Nice try.” She says. I groan and lean against the wall behind me. I hear the banging of lockers in the hallway. “Ginny, show me your arm.” Alex commands. I scowl and slowly pull my arm out from behind me. The blood has soaked through a little and my sleeve sticks when she tries to gently roll it up. “Oh, Ginny.” She whispers. I rub the back of my neck with my free hand. “Why?” Alex asks. “I...Grace.” That’s all Alex needs to hear.

She wraps me up in a hug. “Baby, you have to stop.” Alex murmurs in my ear. It’s hard to focus with her lips touching my skin. “I...I know.” I mumble into her shoulder. And suddenly I’m crying. “I just...I miss her so much.” I feel her stiffen slightly. “God. God.” I hear her mutter under her breath. I feel her swallow hard as she tries not to cry. I’m soaking her sleeve with my tears and I feel weak in comparison to her. I pull away from her embrace and try to choke back my pain. Alex looks bewildered. “What’s the matter?” She asks. I shake my head and look down. “You’re allowed to cry, you know.” I say. I feel like a little kid. Alex is still confused. “I know.” She says. “Then why do you always try not to when you’re around me? I thought I was “everyone”?” I use air quotations in an attempt to make it seem like it’s not a big deal, but Alex sees right through that.

“Baby, I try not to because I...I don’t want to seem self-absorbed.” She says. Now she’s the embarrassed one. “Alex...you’re the most selfless person I’ve ever known.” I say. I take two steps towards her and fling my arms around her.
 

I can’t cry. I shouldn’t cry. But when Ginny hugs me, I sort of fall to pieces. Suddenly I’m weeping uncontrollably. “I-I-I miss her so much. Why’d she have to die, Ginny? Why did she leave us? Were we not enough to make her stay?” I sob. “Baby, she was just in pain. Sometimes, all the love in the world can’t save somebody.” Ginny says. She hugs me tighter. I am struck by the absurdity of this situation. We’re standing in the girls’ bathroom at school, probably missing most of second period, mourning a girl we both loved. I want to laugh but instead I just keep crying.

I don’t know how long we stand there. Seconds or minutes or hours. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is we’re both here, together. I need Ginny. So f***ing much. But eventually, we hear the kids in the hallway and we have to break apart. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?” I ask Ginny, inspecting my face in the mirror (it’s more like a piece of slightly polished tin nailed to the wall above the sinks, but still). Ginny spins me around so I’m facing her and leans in close, her sweet breath on my face. I hold my breath. “Nope. You look like a total hardass.” She states firmly. I grin, then remember.

“Ginny, give me the razor.” Her face pales. She looks like a cornered animal. I hate that look on her. “Erm...why? I’m not gonna do it again.” Ginny says hastily. Her fingers tap nervously on her left pocket. Okay. I lean in and look her in the eye. “Ginny. Give me the razor.” I say quietly. Ginny swallows, her throat bobbing. I raise my eyebrows and hold out my hand. She clears her throat. Looks at me. Looks away. Looks at the sinks. Sighs. And takes out the razor and places it in my palm. I feel a rush of relief. “Good. Now let’s get your arm cleaned up.” I wet some paper towels and gently clean the swiftly drying blood off her arm. Ginny winces. “Sorry.” I murmur. “It’s fine.” I carefully dry off her arm and she rolls her sleeve back down.

Just in time too. Priscilla Bjorn walks in with her regular contingent of lackeys. “Oh...hello.” She says snootily. I badly want to flip her the bird, but I shove my hand in my pocket and resist. “Hi.” Ginny says. “Where did you go after Mrs. Hill yelled at you, Ginny?” One of Priscilla’s friends asks. Priscilla shoots her an angry, chastening look. The friend blushes and looks down, but when Priscilla looks away, she sticks out her tongue. I bite back a grin. “I...I just...I had to use the bathroom.” Ginny stutters nervously. I squeeze her shoulder. Priscilla’s eyes flick to my hand then back to me. She hasn't even looked at Ginny. That makes me angry. “See you later, Priscilla.” I snap. I pull Ginny out of the bathroom with me. Back in the hallway, she gives me a grateful look. “Thanks.” She says. “No problem.” I look around. The hall is empty. S***. “We should probably get to class.” Ginny voices my thought. “Right.” I give her a quick hug and whisper “I love you” in her ear. She says it back and we part ways.

It’s hard to focus. I’m so worried about Ginny. Her cutting is getting worse and as much as she tries to hide it, I can tell she’s on the edge of falling apart. I doodle idly on the page I’m supposed to be taking physics notes on. Physics. Who needs physics? I try to sketch Ginny’s face, but I can’t quite capture it. What am I missing? Her eyes don’t look right. Too flat. The real Ginny’s eyes are bright and glimmering and - oh for God’s sake. Shut UP, brain!

Instead, I draw the phone on the windowsill and the teacher’s pointer on her desk and the “Magic Stool” (as she calls it, God knows why). I’m not very good at it the phone comes out looking like a cushion that got mauled by a cat. I snort quietly at this image. “Is there something funny, Ms. Reeves?” The teacher calls from the blackboard. I shake my head quickly. “No sir.” I reply. The class snickers. I feel heat in my face and keep my eyes pointedly on my paper until they lose interest.

I don’t feel like eating lunch today, but I go anyway. Ginny’s sitting at our usual table. Her hair is falling over her face and shoulder and the dirty light from the window is pushing its’ way through her hair and she looks so painfully gorgeous that I walk up behind her and lean down and whisper “You look beautiful.” She jumps, then laughs. “Hey, Alex.” I sit down beside her, smiling. “Aren’t you eating?” Ginny asks. “Aren’t you?” I counter, eyeing her full tray. She scowls down at her tray. “Hey. You have to eat.” I carefully take her hand under the table, making sure nobody can see us. Ginny looks at me and sighs. “I...I can’t make myself do it.” She mutters dully. “It’s okay. Just take it one bite at a time.” I say. She shakes her head. “You don’t get it.” I want to kiss her so badly but I can’t. I hate this hiding. “I’m sorry.” Ginny says. I start, surprised. She must have thought the frustrated look on my face was because of her. “No, don’t apologize. Look, are you doing anything later?” I ask. “No, what do you have in mind?”

After school, we meet at her house. I know it will be hard. There is so much of Grace in this house. Thankfully, Grace’s door is closed. We go into Ginny’s room. I carry a plastic grocery bag with a chocolate bar, a banana, and some yogurt. Ginny flops on her bed. “What’s that?” I empty it out on her desk. “Alex…” She says warningly. “One bite equals one kiss.” I say. Ginny’s face is pensive, then mischievous. “One kiss equals one bite.” Clever girl. But no. I shake my head. “Nope. One bite equals one kiss.” Ginny mock-scowls at me. “F-ine.” She groans. “Good girl.” I laugh and peel the banana. I hold it out to her.

She looks frightened, but she bites it tentatively. Chews. Swallows hard. “Okay.” I lean towards her and kiss her slowly. I feel her shiver. It takes everything in me to pull away. “Next bite.” I command jokingly. Her hands shake and she clenches them into fists. “Baby, I’m scared.” Ginny says. It hurts me to see the panic in her eyes. “Don’t be.” I hold the banana out to her again. She seems to force her jaws open and takes another bite. She swallows desperately. Her shoulders tense and her hands fidget. My stomach squeezes. I kiss her again and she grabs my hand. “Don’t let go.” Ginny tells me in low, hard voice. “Never.” I promise.

Bite by bite, she finishes the banana. Ginny asks to use the bathroom, but I know she just would try to throw it up, so I tell her not for thirty minutes. She frowns at me. I shrug and take her other hand. She squeezes my hands. “I’m sorry I have to do this.” I say weakly. “No. Thank you.” Ginny says. I kiss her and it becomes a different kiss than any before. She tastes like...like sadness. I kiss her harder trying to erase her pain, but it doesn’t work.

We get halfway through the chocolate bar before Ginny breaks down. “Don’t make me eat anymore!” She cries out. My stomach twists. I feel so guilty, even though I know this is for her own good. “Just one more bite, baby, please.” I beg her. Ginny shakes her head, tears running down her face. “I can’t!” She says. “You can.” I insist. I hate this. I hate myself. God. There’s so much fear in her eyes. I feel sick. “No!” Ginny refuses. She smacks the chocolate out of my hand and it flies across the room, leaving a brown smear on the wall. I’m shocked and so is she. “I...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She whispers. Ginny stares at her hands in horror. “No, it’s okay. It’s okay.” I repeat. “No, it’s not.” Ginny says, her voice suddenly loud. “It’s not okay because Grace isn’t here and did you know I’ve slept in her room every night since she died and I can’t even f***ing breathe without her!” She says all of this in one breath and then she’s screaming into my shoulder and I’m holding her. It’s an awful noise of pain and grief and a lack of any other way to deal with life.

“Baby. Baby, please, stop. Ginny. Ginny, it’s okay.” Her scream is muffled, but she won’t stop, and I’m afraid for her. “Shh.” I stroke her hair. Ginny slowly begins to calm down and just sobs desperately into my shirt, her fists gripping the fabric. “Shh.” I keep making soothing noises until she finally is just snuffling. “Tell you a secret.” I say in a low voice. “Okay.” Ginny hiccups. “I still have Grace’s number...and sometimes, at night, when it’s hard to breathe because she’s d-dead...I text her and pretend she’s texting back, or I-I-I call her just to hear her voicemail.” I say all of this quickly. I am ashamed of my weakness.

Ginny is quiet and we just sit there, holding each other. “You and me, we’re okay, right?” She says after a long while. “Yeah. Yeah. We’re okay.” I laugh a little. God, I love this girl. So I say it out loud. “I love you. Ginny, I love you.” I say. My voice is rough. “I love you too, Alex. God, but I love you.”

Grace, I miss you. I miss you. Where are you? I love you, Grace. Present tense. Please. Why’d you have to die? I love you! I jerk awake in a pool of sweat. A dream. Just a dream. It’s okay. Breathe, Ginny. I wish Alex were here. I smile, realizing I almost always wish that. But it’s true. I wish I could feel her arms around me and I wish I could kiss her. Ugh. I peel off my covers and sprawl out on top of them. Wait. This is the first night that I haven’t slept in Grace’s bed. Something twists inside me. It’s weird being, you know, actually full. Not hungry and empty. I’m glad Alex made me eat something, even if it was awful. She really loves me, doesn’t she? I sigh happily.

I wake up late the next day and have to scramble to get ready. Wrinkled jeans, t-shirt, throwing back my hair in a ponytail. Even so, I have to ask Mom to drive me.

It’s quiet in the car on the way to school. Until Mom decides to break the silence. “I’m sorry Dad and I have been distant lately.” She says. She keeps her eyes on the road but I see a muscle in her cheek twitching. “Oh, it’s fine.” I reply. “It’s just been so hard...you know...losing Grace.” Mom says. I look at her more closely and notice the weary set of her jaw and grayish cast of her skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes. “Oh Mom.” I lean over and hug her. She almost drives us off the road.

I hurry into lunch, searching for Alex. Then I see her. She’s talking to the lunchroom monitor, gesturing wildly with her hands. I smile a little. Then Alex turns as if to stomp off, but then she sees me. Her mouth opens slightly. I see her lips form my name and then she’s running towards me, crashing through space to get to me. Before I know it, she’s grabbing my arm and pulling me behind the cafeteria. I reach for her, to touch her, to kiss her, but Alex pushes me away, against the wall, not enough to hurt me but enough to scare me. “What the hell, Ginny?” She shouts. I flinch back, shocked. “What?” I ask. “You can’t-” Alex stops to take a breath, pushing her hands through her hair. Her eyes are wild with anger and fear. “You can’t just...not show up. Without telling me. I thought-after last night-” She stops again. “What, Alex?” I ask softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “I thought you were dead.” Alex whispers quietly.

I immediately feel guilty, so guilty I can hardly breathe. “Oh, Alex, I’m so sorry.” I say. Alex’s whole body shudders. God. I can only imagine how horrible it must have been for her to think that I was gone, just like Grace. “You can’t do that, Ginny.” Alex repeats. She looks at me. Her face is angry and scared. God, she’s damaged more than even I am. “I’m so sorry.” I say again. Alex takes a deep breath. “I think...I just need some time. Yeah,” She says, nodding “I just need a little bit of time. You really scared me, Ginny.” I feel my stomach sink. “O-Okay.” I agree. Alex leans down slowly and kisses me briefly before she goes back into the cafeteria. I put my head in my hands. “I’m sorry.” I whisper to myself. I slowly sink down to the ground and wrap my arms about my knees. I start to cry.

I don’t speak to Alex for the rest of the day, though I see her in the hallways. My head pounds. My whole body feels heavy, but how can this be when I feel so empty?

I get home and I’m listless. I have no appetite (not unusual) and I got straight up to Grace’s room and sit on the bed. I bury my face in her pillow and breath in the scent of lavender and sage. “I miss you, Grace.” I murmur. My heart aches. For something to do, I get up and pace around her room. My hands shake and I feel so tired. I read about this person in Ancient Rome who, as a punishment, had every one of her teeth crushed with pliers. We have about thirty two teeth. I imagine that after a while, having each tooth crushed individually would become tedious, almost boring. But it would never stop hurting. That’s how I feel now. I’m so tired of having this gnawing pain inside me.

I decide to clean up Grace’s room. She was always so neat, much neater than me, so there is not much to do. But I do find her notebook. My breath catches. I’m afraid of what I might find. I wish I could share this with Alex. But she’s not here and I have to face it alone. My thin hands caress the rough cover before I flip it open.

Dear Diary,
Today was harder than most. I wish I could be happy. But people are so cruel and their words are like knives against my tender flesh. I wish I could die. But right now, at least, I am satisfied with my star chart and my razor blades.

Star chart? What’s that? I’m curious to find out, so I move around the room, opening drawers and moving aside papers, but I find nothing. Then I look at the closet. Maybe…? I open the door and flip on the light. Nothing but dusty clothes. But I will not give up so easy. I push clothes out of the way and then I see what could only be Grace’s beloved star chart.

It’s made of dark blue felt pinned to the wall. Small yellow-white dots cover it, each one marked carefully. “What…?” I mutter in awe. Maybe not awe. What’s the Latin word for it…? The mysterium tremendum et fascinans, I think. The mixture of awe and fear. The mystery that both repels and attracts. Grace was trying to plot the stars. “Oh Grace.” It’s like finding a piece of her hidden away. I never knew anything about this. How many nights she must have stayed up, watching the sky, gluing down little dots in the place of each faraway flicker of light. My shaking hands run along it, feeling the small bumps. Lord help me. Grace was hiding a lot from us, wasn’t she?

I want to tell Alex about this, but I don’t dare text her. Instead I go to my room and flip through Grace’s diary. Most of the entries are about how tired and sad and alone she feels. It’s heartbreaking, but I feel like I’m rediscovering Grace, one step, one word at a time.

School is unbearable without Alex. I make eye contact with her across the cafeteria, but she just looks away. It hurts. A lot. I can’t take it any longer. I catch up to her in the hall. “Alex.” I touch her arm. “Hey, Ginny.” Alex says, turning around. She looks exhausted. Her face is pale and wan and her hands shake. “I just...I miss you.” I say quietly. Now I feel stupid. I look down at my shoes. “I miss you too, Ginny.” Alex says. I stare at her. “I love you.” She whispers, so that no one can hear but me. I fling my arms around her. She squeezes me tight. “God, I missed you.” I mumble into her shirt, my fists gripping the fabric.

We decide to skip the rest of the school day (school seems to have less importance now, everything does). “Where do you want to go?” Alex asks me. We’re far enough away from the school that we can hold hands, so we do. The result of that is that half of my brain power is focused on how her hand feels in mine, so I just shrug. “I don’t care.” I say. I meant to say I don’t know. I don’t look at her because I’m blushing, but I know she’s looking at me and I can feel her grin as a tangible thing in my head. “You said that behind the movie theater too.” Oh crap, she remembers. I use my free hand to rub my neck. I try to disengage from the moment by focusing on the cracked asphalt.

Alex suddenly stops walking, dragging me with her. “Don’t do that.” She says sternly. I look up. “Don’t do what?” I ask. “That thing where if something makes you uncomfortable or afraid, you immediately, like, detach from the scene and drift off somewhere.” Alex says, frowning. I shrug nervously. “Um, sorry. I guess I just don’t really know how to stop.” Alex smiles. “Well, we can fix that. That’s fixable.” She says. I laugh, kind of, thinking of all the unfixable things that people try to fix. “What?” Alex asks, confused by my chuckle. “Just...I’m not sure if I can be fixed.” I remove my hand from hers and lean back against the fence behind me. I look at my dirty shoes. “Everyone is fixable.” Alex snaps. I am surprised by the fierceness in her voice and flick my gaze to hers. Her eyes are blazing with determination. “I…” I open my mouth to speak but I can’t. “Everyone is fixable.” Alex repeats.

And then we’re kissing. There’s so much emotion in it, desperation and sadness and grief. It is a surprising flavor for such a desire-driven kiss. Finally, finally, Alex pulls away. She’s breathing hard and so am I. “Let’s just...for one day, this day, let’s just be us. Not anybody else. Let’s walk to the mall and walk around and hold hands and just be ourselves, not hiding anything, and we can talk about how to come out at school.”