favorite—pretty much the only thing I ate last spring after Jordan died.
I love Lucy.
“Good to see you here,” she whispers into my ear.
“Luce!” Chim’s eyes light up. Chim’s had a crush on Lucy since I can remember, which is cute when she’s not following Lucy around like a lost little puppy dog.
“Hey, Chim.” Lucy nods at her. “Thanks for coming out Saturday to see the band. Sorry we sucked. I think I might quit. I’m actually gonna go check out another band tonight; I need something new.”
“You so did not suck.” Chim’s voice is an octave higher than normal. She’s been going to Lucy’s shows since forever. I don’t think she’s missed one. In fact, I’m pretty sure she skipped her cousin’s bat mitzvah in order to make one a few years ago.
Jordan and I used to go to them, too, which was fine, until it wasn’t. Sometime during sophomore year, I started resenting the fact that Lucy always invited both of us. That my friends were our friends. Like he didn’t have enough with his perfect grades and his perfect hair and all the attention our parents poured on him. So, at Lucy’s shows, instead of hanging out with him, I would ditch him as soon as we arrived and spend most of the rest of the night out back with Chim, drinking and smoking and getting fucked-up. Basically, doing everything in my power to avoid him and his judgmental looks and making Chim come along for the ride. He started bringing a few of his friends along soon after.
I push the thought out of my head, far out, try to erase even the imprint of it from my mind.
“May.” Lucy squeezes my hand again. “Yo, the bell rang. It’s time to get to class, chérie.”
I’m startled out of my reverie. I glance around the hallway, realizing for the first time that it emptied while I’ve been deep in my own memories, obsessing.
Chim freaks out when she hears the bell. “Shit. I’m going to be late for chem again. Not that it matters; I’m basically failing.”
Lucy rolls her eyes. “So, what, you’re getting a B right now?”
“Whatever. I gotta go.” Chim takes off down the hallway, and I wave to her back, wiggling my fingers like Good to see ya, friend.
“Dude. You are harsh.” Lucy grabs my hand and holds it down near her hip. “She means well, you know that.”
I yank my hand out of her grip. “Yeah. I know. I get it. But, man. Sometimes I want to slap her so bad.”
Lucy snorts. “No shit. I saw you earlier. You need to chill. She loves you—she just doesn’t know what to say.” She considers me. “And you’re lucky that I got here when I did, or it woulda been detention for you, no matter who you are. You know what Rose-Brady said when they agreed to take you here: best behavior.” She taps me on my head between my eyes.
I flare my nostrils. “I know what she said,” I say. I just don’t care.
She leans in and brushes the hair off my forehead. “Hey. You look exhausted. Are you okay?” I nod, cross my arms tight against my chest. Lucy pauses, bites her lower lip, clears her throat. “May. You’re flying under the radar right now, but barely. You know this. I know this. You have to be careful. They aren’t going to keep giving you chances—even with Rose-Brady in your corner—if you can’t control yourself. Okay?” She glances down at her watch. “Shit. I gotta run. I’ll see you at lunch.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, silent as she walks away. Repeat over and over in my head one of the many mantras the school-appointed therapist, Dr. McMillen, taught me last summer: You are safe. You are safe.
It’s not working. It never works. My heart pounds in my chest and it’s like I’m back there, in that tiny closet at Carter, sitting wrapped in a ball with my hands over my ears, trying to block out all those screams. My brother’s screams. And then after