Read Online Gone, Gone, Gone by Hannah Moskowitz - Free Book Online Page B

his apple out of his lunch box and squeezes it. “The whole country cared about New York City. No one gave a shit about us. Half the newspapers outside of the US didn’t even mention us, all they cared about was NewYork. I went into the city afterward and it was like . . .”
    The fact that he has to specify that he went into D.C. makes it all the more clear that he is a fucking Marylander, for God’s sake. Soon the Virginians are going to be encroaching on our grief. Then what, Indiana? Fuck this shit.
    I say, “The newspapers cared about us because we got owned. And Washington, D.C., was the only city in the entire fucking country who didn’t give New York any bit of sympathy.” My throat hurts. I don’t want to do this shit anymore.
    Craig throws his apple in the dirt. “We had our own problems!”
    “You had a fucking inferiority complex.”
    He crosses his arms and now neither of us is looking at the other.
    But he doesn’t know. He wasn’t there. What does he even know about dying? He’s been so alive his whole life it makes me want to throw up.
    And to talk about 9/11 as this inspiring experience, what the fuck is that? 9/11 was numbers and death and fire. It wasn’t a city giving itself a group hug. I’m so sick of people trying to make it something pretty. It’s just so Lifetime movie.
    I stand up in time to see that Craig’s crying.
    It’s not the first time I’ve seen him cry. The boy broke down during a History Channel segment on the War of 1812in American Civ a few weeks ago, for God’s sake.
    It still makes me pause. I can’t help it. I don’t like crying.
    I wish I knew what to say.
    “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.
    And suddenly words fall out of my mouth. “I don’t know? What did nine eleven mean to you? What does it mean to anyone who didn’t see the towers fall?”
    His eyes are cat-narrowed, and he yells, “My boyfriend’s fucking father didn’t die in the fucking towers!”
    I swallow.
    Okay, so I didn’t know that. I didn’t know Cody’s father died in the Pentagon. Craig should have told me that a long time ago.
    I hate when people do this. I hate when people hide their cards to feel secret and strong. That’s no way of dealing with anything. I don’t pretend shit didn’t happen to me. I don’t stay up all night instead of going to therapy.
    And he called Cody his boyfriend. Not ex-boyfriend. Just boyfriend.
    So instead of apologizing, I swallow again and say, “A hundred and eighty-nine. It’s not the same.”
    But Craig is crying hard now, and he won’t look at me. I reach my hand out a little, but he doesn’t move. I don’t know what to do.
    I pack his lunch up and leave it at his feet. I pack my lunch up, and I go.
    Then I hit a freshman. I was getting so much better about that, too. I feel awful about it, so I turn myself in.
    They don’t suspend me, but they call my dad to pick me up. Because of the sniper, I’m not allowed to wait for him outside. Clearly they don’t know where Craig and I eat.
    And I realize, while I’m standing here with the principal by the front door, watching for my father, that I am worried about Craig. Out there, crying, unprotected.
    Dad’s pissed when he gets here. He had to leave work to pick me up. They should have let Jasper bring me home.
    Dad walks me to the car in a zigzag pattern and says, “Well, I guess you’ll have something to tell Adelle this afternoon, huh?”
    Craig and his lunch are both gone.
    Dad asks if I need ice for my hand, but I don’t answer him. I really, really don’t feel like talking. Adelle’s going to have a great time with me today.

CRAIG
    THINGS I ALWAYS LIKED ABOUT LIO:
    The gaps between his canines and the rest of his teeth that make him look like a vampire or a really dangerous puppy.
    His stupid multicolored hair that he never lets me see because of those hats he wears even though he isn’t cold.
    The fact that the teachers stopped making him take his hats