I recognized that book title. I left my room, going to the bookcase in the living room. I scanned the shelves and foundit, along with a few other titles from the author. I grabbedFlowers In The Attic, deciding to reply to her. But I needed to make an account, which would require a username no one could guess. I looked back at the bookshelf and grabbed the book that had been right next to Flowers In The Attic.
The Great Gatsby—we’d been reading it in school.
Daisy.
Perfect. I typed in SadboyGatsby as my username and hit Create Account. My heart was loud in my ears as I returned to FadedDaisy’s post. With a trembling hand, I clicked Reply. What did I say?
SadboyGatsby: My mom has the book. I can read it and tell you the ending if you’d like.
My palms were clammy as I waited for a reply. It came minutes later.
FadedDaisy: You have that kind of time on your hands?
I sighed, looking around my lonely room.
SadboyGatsby: I have nothing but time. I’m just as trapped as you are.
I considered my reply. It was true, in a way. Sure, I could go outside. I went to school; I was allowed friends. But I didn’t have time for extracurriculars anymore. My mom filled my schedule with ‘special visits’. Which created another problem. How could I hang out with my friends when I’d... done those things with their moms? I’d tried at first, but the guilt and shame kept making me physically ill. I’d thrown up at least six times at various houses, and ofcourse, my mom heard about it. Her answer for that was for me not to go play with the other boys on the base.
I think that was what made me reply to FadedDaisy. We had different prisons, but the bars on the windows were just as impenetrable. My computer dinged with a reply, and my heart soared as I saw a private message from Daisy.
FadedDaisy: I’d love to know the ending, Gatsby.
I stared at it. Her request seemed to have a double meaning. Maybe I was reading into it more than I should have, but I was so desperate for someone to talk to, I couldn’t help but cling to the message for dear life. I looked at the two books again, deciding to read both.
SadboyGatsby: Me too, Daisy.
Please, let the ending be a good one.
Chapter 9
Daisy
“Knock, knock!”
I turned my head at the odd accent and leaped from my living room couch in delight.
“Neal!” I threw my arms around my cousin. They laughed and hugged me back.
“Hello,Daisy.” Neal exaggerated my stage name-turned-legal name. “I love this for you, by the way. New name, new you.”
“Same,Nail,” I teased them, mimicking their new accent. “What’s this?”
“Australian, you like? I low-key love how they say my name down there. Who’s this?”
I turned my head to look at Tuth, who’d been sitting beside me. “That’s Tuth, my bodyguard.”
Neal went over and offered their hand, introducing themselves.
“Neal, pronies?”
Tuth and I exchanged confused looks. Neal rolled their eyes and spoke in their usual American accent. “Pronouns. I use they/them.”
“Oh, same.” Tuth grinned.
I shook my head and laughed at my friends. I tugged on Neal’s arm and dragged them to the couch, where Tuth and I had been lounging, looking for something to do while remaining at the house.
“Tell me everything. I want to know about every country you visited.”
