“I’ll wait by the outbuildings,” he said. “Don’t take too long, okay?” He touched Ana’s arm and walked away.
Ana sat down on the other end of the curb. She felt a pull inside as she looked across at her friend. Suffering. It had been such a part of both their lives. The time they were dating seemed like a million years ago. Such a stupidly innocent moment, with nothing to think about other than crushes and band gigs, all the regular teenage stuff she had put behind her.
She would have given anything to go back to those days. To be lying on her lumpy old bed, Raya’s head in her lap, listening to their old, thrifted vinyls. Laughing and gossiping, nowhere to go, nothing to do.
As though she’d heard her thoughts, Raya shook her head and wiped her sleeve across her face hard, turning to look out across the harsh red streaks of desert stretching all around them.
When she spoke, her voice sounded flat and lifeless.
“I’m sorry, Ana. I didn’t mean what I said…”
“It’s okay.” Ana took a deep breath. There was something she needed to say to Raya, something that had been worrying her for hours, but she dreaded bringing it up. It felt invasive and wrong, but it had to come out,one way or another. Before it was too late.
“Raya, I need to ask you something,” she said. Reaching out, she placed her hand next to Raya’s. Their pinkies touched. Her voice must have given something away. Raya’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“What?”
“I need you to promise me that you won’t give up. No matter what happens. No matter who dies. Even if you want to…” Ana paused, catching her words.No drama, she reminded herself.
“Why would you even say that?” Raya said, an edge of irritation creeping into her voice.
Ana had kept their hands close together, and before Raya could stop her, she pushed up Raya’s sleeve. The white line was clear against Raya’s skin. Stark. It had lost its violent red edge over the last few years, slowly turning into a mark of history.
Raya pulled away angrily and yanked her sleeve down over her hand. She stood up, avoiding Ana’s eyes.
She’d overstepped. Ana could feel it. The cutting, the suicide attempt—they wereRaya’spath,Raya’struth. Not Ana’s or anyone else’s. It wasn’t something to be put out there in the open like this. Not unless Raya wanted to.
“I’m sorry,” Ana said quickly. “But here, now, with all this…I need to know that you won’t give up…again.”
“Really? You want to go there?” Raya said, her voice unnaturally cold.
“I’m sorry, it’s just, you’re my best friend.”
“You think?” Raya gave a short bitter laugh and turned away; her arms folded defensively across her chest.
“Look, we don’t have to talk about it, okay?” Ana said, backing off. She held out her hands, palms up—her scars from the fire exposed inthe bright sunlight. “I get it. When Danny died, things were seriously messed up. There were times I didn’t know how to get through another minute feeling the way I did. I just wanted everything to go away. I do understand, Raya. Really.”
“But you don’t, Ana. You don’t understand.You don’t know what it’s like to grow up feeling different from everyone around you just because of who you are inside. I was so freaking alone, for so freaking long.” Raya squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Look, things have been really bad for you, I know. But just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean you understand how everyone else feels. You have no clue what it’s like to be me. And at the end of the day, no matter how shit it got when Danny died, you didn’t try and end it all, did you?” Raya turned to face her now, squarely. “So don’t say that you understand, because you don’t. You can’t. You never will.”
Ana was lost for words. She’d never heard Raya talk like this. There was so much anger and pain. She wanted to put her arms around her, hold her tight until the feelings faded. But she knew she wasn’t welcome. She’d crossed a boundary.
“I’m sorry,” Ana said quietly.
There was a long silence. Raya glared at the desert, furious at Ana, furious at the world.
Ana kicked herself mentally for screwing up and hurting her friend.
It took a while before Raya spoke again.
“One moment of weakness. That’s all it was. One hour, one minute of one day when it all got too much. One bad decision, and I will have to live with that for the rest of my life.” Raya pulled her sleeve up and held out her wrist, no hiding now. “But that was a long time ago, before the fire. I’ve changed. I’ve grown into myself, and I’m not about to quit. So, if you think this makes me weak, you are so wrong. Anyone who has beenthere and made it back is not weak or vulnerable. We don’t deserve pity. We’re the survivors. We have faced our darkness and lived.”
Abruptly Raya turned and walked into the shade of the porch. Squatting down, she pulled out a rolled-up joint. Ana could feel the tension lift. Raya had said her bit; the topic was shut down.
Raya held out the joint and her Zippo lighter—a peace offering. Ana walked over to her and took them; for the first time in a long time, she lit up. Did it matter anymore, if they were all going to die anyway? Did anything matter? She took a long drag, then held them out, but Raya shook her head.
“Keep them, you might need it. You want someone to worry about, Ana? Worry about that guitar boy of yours. Have you seen the way he plays? I swear there’s nothing but rainbows and kittens inside that man-child. If anyone’s in danger of going across that white line—it’s Alex.”
It was a classic Raya redirection. Changing the subject and ending the conversation once and for all. But Ana didn’t want to hear this. There was already so much fear.
