that’s happened. Because of him, and the pain. But mostly because of Sophia, and Jack, and Kayla and Wren.
I want to be happier. Happy like Sophia is now. Happy like I want Jack to be, now.
Even if they’re both gone. Even if they’re all gone.
Even if I’m all alone.
Diana watches me laugh, smiling, and sits beside me. It’s then I confirm my suspicions – only a total weirdo would continue to hang out with someone who puked on her shoes, then rolled down a hill like a sugar high hamster and laughed about it. Diana could be a serial killer. Or a genuinely nice person. Both the sort of people who shouldn’t be hanging around yours truly.
“You’re crying,” she says offhandedly, picking a dandelion and blowing the fuzz away. I wipe my face.
“I’ve been doing it a lot lately. Because, you know. Crying is fun. If you think about it like Splash Mountain for your eyes.”
Diana giggles. I stand up, brushing grass off my sculpted abs.
“Anyway, it’s been fun but I must go and contemplate the fact I might be losing my fucking marbles.”
Diana shrugs. “I think you’re just scared. It’s scary. College. We can do anything. We can fail or flunk, or drink or smoke or have sex, and no one cares. We’re not kids anymore. There’s no parents here. Whatever happens in our future, happens because of the choices we make now. That’s real scary.”
I watch her face. She hugs her knees.
“And seeing exes you haven’t seen for a long time is scary, too.”
I lose all will to leave, and flop down beside her. The last thing I wanna be right now is alone. We watch the sunset rip through the sky with fire and velvet.
“Boys are weird,” Diana concludes sagely.
“I don’t know anything about boys except they make weird noises sometimes,” I say.
“That’s called speaking.”
“Oh.”
Diana squints at me. “If he did something bad, I can punt him for you.”
“You usually go around mercenarily offering to punt people?”
“I have four little brothers. It’d be a waste to let my talents wither.”
It’s my turn to chuckle. Voices make me jump. I shoot a wary look up the hill, but it’s just a crowd of loud obnoxious girls shrieking as they pass.
“I really didn’t wanna live constantly looking over my shoulder again,” I sigh. “It was shitty in Florida and it’ll be shitty here.”
“I would say ignore him, but I guess that’s easier said than done, huh?”
I nod. Diana picks at a blade of grass. I’m about to say something deep and profound and possibly life-changing when Yvette’s clear, strong voice cuts between us. A guitar case is strapped to her back, pink hair matching the sunset.
“Oyyyyy! You coming to the show or what, numbnuts?”
I stand, shakily. I shoot one last look back at the cafeteria. The choker of thorns around my neck is gone, now. He’s gone. I’m safe. For now. Diana stands with me, and I smirk at her.
“On a scale of one to duh, how much do you like music?”
-6-
3 Years
47 Weeks
1 Day
Emel Hall is a massive glass and wood contraption built by rich wrinkly alumni who wanted to see their name on something large and impressive before they kicked the bucket. The music majors and people who like Bright Eyes too much hang around here pretty much 24/7, and they’re the ones who put this whole thing on. It’s a battle of the bands type of deal; handfuls of grungy college kids with aspiring indie bands performing on a stage to a likewise college crowd. Alcohol isn’t allowed, but people sneak it in water bottles and flasks, laughing and sloshing about like waterlogged pirates. With trust funds. And essays due the next day. Not that pirates wrote essays. But if they did, it would be about singing parrots and knife-fights and fat booty of the not-woman kind, or possibly simultaneously of the woman kind and the treasure kind, because, well, pirates.
“Hold this for me. Take pictures of me on it. I want to see my own awesome live
I want to be happier. Happy like Sophia is now. Happy like I want Jack to be, now.
Even if they’re both gone. Even if they’re all gone.
Even if I’m all alone.
Diana watches me laugh, smiling, and sits beside me. It’s then I confirm my suspicions – only a total weirdo would continue to hang out with someone who puked on her shoes, then rolled down a hill like a sugar high hamster and laughed about it. Diana could be a serial killer. Or a genuinely nice person. Both the sort of people who shouldn’t be hanging around yours truly.
“You’re crying,” she says offhandedly, picking a dandelion and blowing the fuzz away. I wipe my face.
“I’ve been doing it a lot lately. Because, you know. Crying is fun. If you think about it like Splash Mountain for your eyes.”
Diana giggles. I stand up, brushing grass off my sculpted abs.
“Anyway, it’s been fun but I must go and contemplate the fact I might be losing my fucking marbles.”
Diana shrugs. “I think you’re just scared. It’s scary. College. We can do anything. We can fail or flunk, or drink or smoke or have sex, and no one cares. We’re not kids anymore. There’s no parents here. Whatever happens in our future, happens because of the choices we make now. That’s real scary.”
I watch her face. She hugs her knees.
“And seeing exes you haven’t seen for a long time is scary, too.”
I lose all will to leave, and flop down beside her. The last thing I wanna be right now is alone. We watch the sunset rip through the sky with fire and velvet.
“Boys are weird,” Diana concludes sagely.
“I don’t know anything about boys except they make weird noises sometimes,” I say.
“That’s called speaking.”
“Oh.”
Diana squints at me. “If he did something bad, I can punt him for you.”
“You usually go around mercenarily offering to punt people?”
“I have four little brothers. It’d be a waste to let my talents wither.”
It’s my turn to chuckle. Voices make me jump. I shoot a wary look up the hill, but it’s just a crowd of loud obnoxious girls shrieking as they pass.
“I really didn’t wanna live constantly looking over my shoulder again,” I sigh. “It was shitty in Florida and it’ll be shitty here.”
“I would say ignore him, but I guess that’s easier said than done, huh?”
I nod. Diana picks at a blade of grass. I’m about to say something deep and profound and possibly life-changing when Yvette’s clear, strong voice cuts between us. A guitar case is strapped to her back, pink hair matching the sunset.
“Oyyyyy! You coming to the show or what, numbnuts?”
I stand, shakily. I shoot one last look back at the cafeteria. The choker of thorns around my neck is gone, now. He’s gone. I’m safe. For now. Diana stands with me, and I smirk at her.
“On a scale of one to duh, how much do you like music?”
-6-
3 Years
47 Weeks
1 Day
Emel Hall is a massive glass and wood contraption built by rich wrinkly alumni who wanted to see their name on something large and impressive before they kicked the bucket. The music majors and people who like Bright Eyes too much hang around here pretty much 24/7, and they’re the ones who put this whole thing on. It’s a battle of the bands type of deal; handfuls of grungy college kids with aspiring indie bands performing on a stage to a likewise college crowd. Alcohol isn’t allowed, but people sneak it in water bottles and flasks, laughing and sloshing about like waterlogged pirates. With trust funds. And essays due the next day. Not that pirates wrote essays. But if they did, it would be about singing parrots and knife-fights and fat booty of the not-woman kind, or possibly simultaneously of the woman kind and the treasure kind, because, well, pirates.
“Hold this for me. Take pictures of me on it. I want to see my own awesome live
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