I’ve never known how to be anything else.
Not when it comes to him.
Not ever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD
• • •
Junior year.
I’m better at performing okay by now.
I have a whole system.
Get up.
Shower.
Go to class.
Eat something so Mara doesn’t make the face.
Go to the library.
Study.
Come back.
Take the pills.
Sleep.
Repeat.
It works.
In the way that things work when you define working as simply continuing to exist without alarming anyone.
Mara knows something is wrong.
She’s always known.
She doesn’t push.
She just appears — at my door, at my table, in the library two seats down — and exists near me in the specific way that means I see you and I’m not going anywhere.
And I’m so grateful for her.
Even if I can’t bring myself to show it right now.
• • •
My dad calls on Sundays.
I call him back.
