Page 94 of Goodbye Days

“Eli and I never even really talked about God,” Jesmyn says. “But he loved to consider unknowable things. We’d been dating for about two weeks when he took me to Centennial Park. It was my first time there. We sat and held each other and looked at the skyline— Sorry, I hope I’m not making y’all uncomfortable talking about PDA.”

Pierce and Melissa shake their heads. I stare forward. It’s not even the PDA part that’s making me uncomfortable (why would it?)—it’s the unspecialness of when Jesmyn and I sat at the park, watching the city lights twinkle like a constellation of human stars. It’s knowing how much magic, of which I had no part, went on in the world between the people close to me.

She continues. “Anyway, Eli randomly asks me, ‘If you could learn the name of everyone who has ever loved you, would you want to?’ ”

We wait, but Jesmyn says no more.

“So?” Melissa says.

Jesmyn smiles wistfully. “I told him I didn’t know. I still don’t. The last thing you want is to find out that someone who you thought loves you never loved you.”

“What did he say?” Pierce asks.

“He wouldn’t say. I’d promised myself I’d drag the answer out of him someday.”

I couldn’t imagine doing this day without Jesmyn. But every time she talks about Eli, it’s like the right side of my heart has been tied to the bumper of a pickup truck. And every time Pierce and Melissa talk about him, it’s like the left side has been tied to another pickup. And they’re peeling out in opposite directions, ripping my heart down its center.

And of course, when none of them are speaking, I’m thinking about two other trucks. The eighteen-wheeler of prosecution headed my way. And the trailer that filled Eli’s field of vision in his last seconds alive on this Earth.

Jesmyn stealthily maneuvers her hand next to mine. I catch her eye. When Melissa and Pierce are both looking forward, she reaches out with her pinky and taps mine twice. Hey. You good?

I give her two taps back. No. Not really. But I’ll pretend I am until my facade crumbles completely and I’m naked in front of all of you.

Technically Hara and I haven’t broken up. We say we’ll stay in touch after her family moves to Chicago, blah blah blah, but come on. We’re sixteen. We’re not going to be spending weekends together. So, yeah, we’re pretty much broken up the minute I watch her family’s moving truck fading from view.

So I’m lonely. To the point that I don’t even want to text any of Sauce Crew to hang with me because I’m so afraid of being rejected. Georgia’s out with her boyfriend. My parents are at some faculty thing for my dad’s job. I sit in my room and try to get some writing done, but surprise, surprise, I’m not making any headway.

The doorbell rings. It’s Eli.

“Dude, you look like ass.” He walks in before I can invite him.

“Your mom’s ass,” I mumble.

“You look way worse than my mom’s toned ass. So? How you doing?”

“She left a little while ago. So bad.”

“Figured.” With a smirk, he pulls three Netflix DVDs from his hoodie pocket and fans them like he’s holding a winning poker hand.

“What’re those?”

“Horrendous French horror movies. People getting skinned alive and stuff. To cheer you up.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah.”

“But no way can we watch these here. If my parents or Georgia come home, we’re boned.”

“I didn’t plan on watching them here. I came to pick you up because I figured your sensitive-poet-ass self would be too heartbroken to drive.”

I smile for the first time that day and flip Eli the bird.

He grins, stuffs the DVDs in his hoodie pocket, and flips me both birds.

“Let me grab my jacket,” I say.

“Grab five bucks too, because you’re not sharing my Roma’s.”