hand. âDonât touch me!â she snaps, and pulls away. I let her go, and I wonder if thatâs the last piece of Evie I will ever touch.
you.
I KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG THAT NIGHT WE SLEPT on the beach. Part of you was gone, replaced by a stranger who only cared about getting high. I tried to get you to talkâabout your family, your friends, the cancer, anythingâbut you were closed up so tight I felt like I was scraping at concrete with my fingernails. You finally gave a little, but you stayed so vague, giving me tears but no details. And then you kissed me, as if a kiss would wipe away your sadness, as if it would distract me from my mission to discover the source of it. And it did. And that shames me.
The next night, you were even worse. Itâs like you were becoming transparent, threadbare. I had the feeling you were going to disappear any second. I didnât want to get high, didnât want that to be the only thing that brought us together, but I smoked with you anyway because I knew youâd do it without me, even as I sat there next to you, and I couldnât bear to see you getting high alone.
Had we ever been sober together? I canât even remember.
It felt so familiar. Your distance and my desperate yearning to reach you. The feeling of running and running and never getting any closer. You were so much like David, so lost to me. I could feel you going down the same road as he did. I could feel myself following you. And even though you were there with me, even though our bodies were touching, I suddenly felt so alone. And being lonely when youâre with someone is the worst kind of loneliness.
I was so torn when you threw yourself at me. My body wanted you. God, how it wanted you. But my heart wanted something else, wanted the part of you that hid inside your body. I could tell you werenât really there. The light was gone in your eyes, replaced by something dark, frantic, terrified. I know it wasnât me you wanted in that moment. You wanted the distraction of my body. You wanted to use me like a drug. You wanted my body to get you high.
As hard as it was, I managed to say no. I know you were hurt by my refusal. You thought it meant I didnât want you. How could I possibly explain how untrue that is? How could you not see that my stopping was proof of how much I love you?
there.
âDOES THIS LOOK OKAY?â I SAY. I AM ON MY FOURTH OUTFIT. I am going to my first Templeton party with David. There will be girls there. They are the only thing I think about. âDo I look old enough?â
âOld enough for what?â David says as he reaches behind his dresser and pulls out a hidden pack of cigarettes and a small bottle of vodka. It doesnât surprise me anymore when he does things like this. In the last few months, weâve gotten drunk and smoked pot together plenty of times. I donât know how long heâs been doing this or how much he does it without me. I donât know if heâs doing anything stronger. All I know is how I feel when he shares it with me, like I am part of his world, like he wants me in it, like he is not drifting away and becoming someone I donât know.
I unbutton my plaid flannel shirt for the second time. âOld enough for a girl to want to kiss me.â
David laughs and hands me the bottle. âHere, drink some of this. Liquid courage.â
It burns and tastes like poison, but I swallow because David is always right.
âAre the girls from Saint Catherineâs hot?â
âThe hottest,â David says. âYou know what they say about Catholic school girls.â
I donât, but I nod anyway. âDo you think any of them will make out with me?â
âNot if you say dumb shit like that.â
I button the shirt back up. âWhich way looks better?â
âDude,â David says. âYou look fine. If you take any longer, Iâm going to change my mind about
Shantel Tessier
Jake Needham
M. S. Parker
Sparkle Hayter
Roberta Latow
C.J. Newt
Dustin Mcwilliams
Alistair MacLean
Kim Thompson
C.L. Richards