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Downstairs, Dara bulliesthe last few sips of Ariana’s lukewarhts up et into the mood

Then Dara pops open as fades

"Want?" she says, turning to me

"What is that?" I say, even as Ariana holds out a palm for one

Dara rolls her eyes "Breath ue out at"And trust ht," I say, but hold outDara, Parker, and I have always gone to Founders’ Day together, even in middle school, when instead of a dance the school puts on a weird variety show, and for the past few years Ariana has been tagging along So what if Parker and Dara are soun? So what if I haven’t talked to Parker, really talked, since he and Dara started hooking up? So what if otten that I exist?

Details

We have to take the long way, because neither Ariana nor Dara can h the woods in their heels and Ariana wants to sarette anyway It’s freakishly warutters, soft snohoo down from roofs, the air layered with that rich sh it’s a false proet ht jacket, and Dara’s walking besideto Parker’s house: just like old tis back memories That old maple where Parker and I once coh the high, flimsy branches and broke his arm--for a whole summer he couldn’t swi tape out of solidarity; Old Hickory Lane, Parker’s street, our favorite spot to trick-or-treat, because Mrs Hanrahan could never distinguish between the kids on the block and kept forking over Snickers bars even e rang three, four, five times in a row; the stretch of woods where we convinced Dara that fairies lived ould steal her away to a horrible underworld if she didn’t do e said; concentric circles of growth, spreading outward, like the rings of a treeoff time

Or s in, back to the start, the root and the heart, because as we get closer to Parker’s house the hts and snowball fights and our whole lives layered together, until we’re standing on his porch and Parker opens the door ar out behind him and we’re here; we’ve arrived at the center

Parker’s actually bothered to put on a button-down, although I can see a T-shirt peeking out fro jeans and his blue Surf Siders, covered over with faded ink reatest!! is written beneath the left sole in Sharpie

"My best girls," Parker says, opening his aret and start topast me, and then I re away, letting her get to hi to partythe Drink? Parker told et out of the shoritten on Nick’s creae of a hundred who actually uses stationery, and her handwriting is so neat it looks like each letter is alooks like Perkins ingested soe)

I stoop doincing as pain snakes upit and overhanding it toward the trash can in the corner The note hits the rim and rebounds into a pile of dirty T-shirts

I pull on a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top and takequickly away frolies, unliked, unanswered, posted onof you!!

We love you so much!!!

I haven’t posted since the accident Why would I? What could I possibly say?

I’ht

I’m hopelessly scarred for life

I’m finally able to bend my knees like a nor Parker’s face, the way he squints against the light reflected in the windshield, his nails, triuy’s should be His eyebrows, thick and dark, drawn together Everyone else in Parker’s fa, blond and fair and s on the open ocean, which somehow makes Parker’s dark hair and olive skin even cuter, like it was a ht at hoet the old itch, a heat between s to carry me away

I need out I need to prove that I’ him, or my old friends, or anyone I’m not afraid of Nick, either, and the way she makesmusic downstairs--indie pop, shiny happyfor Mom to help her find her favorite jeans; every time I come into the bathroo like Neutrogena; every ti shoes on the stairs or find her field hockey T-shirt tangled up with round TOWN: NORMAL POPULATION: 1