uncrossed. I told Nimo everything: about my dad leaving, about how lonely it was at home sometimes, about cutting myself. They seemed to listen and they said al these supportive things, and I unclenched my life, which I almost never do. I was beginning to think I was maybe in love with them.
But the problem with unfolding your arms is you leave yourself wide open.
The next day at school, Nimo was distant. Before school. Between classes. I final y cornered them in the cafeteria, and they were like, “I thought we were casual, but it’s getting kinda intense. I need some space.” And just like that, it was over. My friends Gus and Cyndi started hanging with Nimo, and that meant I had no one. And I spent a lot of time alone, thinking about how I would probably not be that open with anyone again. It hurts too much.
I sat there thinking a lot about Nimo, and also how it would be to actual y tel Daxton, who would understand, because he seemed to get me. And Griffin got tired and lay down on his side on the concrete, which was now beginning to heat up.
That was when I realized: No Daxton.
I looked at my phone. It was 5:25 a.m. Which is too early to be freaked out about someone not showing up, but we usual y met at five, and this had never happened before.
I texted him. Where are you?
No response. My gut started to feel a little queasy.
Five minutes later, I texted again: …?
Nothing came back. My gut twisted, and I slowly got up and brought Griffin, who was confused about what happened to his walk, inside. I went back to bed. And I stayed there.
My brain spent the day fuming. How can a person be that close to you, say al those nice things, and then just disappear? That was crueler, in fact, than never having been there in the first place. Why did Daxton have to pretend I mattered, just to make it clear a few weeks later that I didn’t?
At three p.m. that afternoon, I decided to text him again. I wrote four different versions:
You bet er be dead. Nothing else is a good enough excuse I read it and reread it. Many, many times. My finger hovered over the send button. But then I pictured his smiling eyes, and I erased it.
Nice. Standing me up. Lose my number
I erased it.
I don’t have friends who treat me this way
I erased it.
I final y settled on one. It was hard, because I wasn’t feeling it. But I sent this:
You okay, Daxton?
I saw the dots right away.
Hey! So sorry. Emergency with my dad. He’s ok. His blood sugar went through the roof. At hospital. Scary here! Was gonna text but kinda crazy This feeling flooded through my chest. Like the opposite of the feeling I had when Nimo disappeared on me. Something like grace. Like, maybe the world wasn’t so bad, after al . Like maybe Daxton wasn’t such a Normal, or I was one, too. Whatever. We were the same, and that was what mattered.
That’s ok! Sorry your dad is sick! Miss you!
I miss you too. We should hang out some night I texted, !!! Me? Why in the world would you want to I erased it.
Yeah ok. When this is al over for sure. For now, social y distant walks.
yay
Nah. I mean yeah. But tonight. 10pm? Come outside. Wear a mask. It’l be ok, I promise. Just need to see you
This shiver went through my entire body, and I smiled like I hadn’t in a long time.
Ok
—
That night, at ten, I leashed up Griffin. My mom was asleep, passed out after a long, terrible day at Banner Health. I left her a note in case she woke up, but I knew she wouldn’t.
The hot night air made the hairs on my arms tingle as I crept out our front door. It wasn’t exactly like I was going out to go clubbing, or anything il icit, real y. But I felt shaky and undeniably alive anyway, because I knew he’d be there.
And he was.
Sitting on the artificial-grass lawn across the street, just far enough away from the streetlight that he wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention if they peeked out the window or drove by. But nobody was doing that. Not at ten p.m., not in this neighborhood, and not at this time, when the world was on an extended time-out. Squirrel sat, obedient and perfect, by his side.
I sat down on our concrete driveway, right across from him, my heart surging like a criminal or a thief, and also like someone who was—maybe?—
on the way to being in love.
How would I even know?
Griffin perched next to me, not quite as obedient and perfect, but good enough. He leaned into me.
I gave a little wave, and Daxton waved back. I could see his black mask just barely, his face even less. His body was just a hint of a shape, long and thin and lovely.
He very softly, very deliberately put his hand on his knee.
I put my hand on my knee, too.
He reached his hand out toward me, as if we could hold hands, if our arms were both fifty feet long. My whole body shook with joy.
I stuck my hand out too, and I caressed his through the air.
And in that way, we held each other.
Quarantine sucked. Especial y when we were packed into urban apartments like a package of Oreos, and not even the interesting kind of Oreos, but the strange flavor that no one liked. There was no space, no quiet.
Al day, my parents worked in the living room. Al day, my little sister, Lil y, cohosted her summer school virtual classroom, that little teacher’s pet.
She learned how to mute everyone in the first session and had gone dictator with power ever since.
“I decide who talks now,” she said in this weird, deranged voice, pressing a finger against the keyboard on my old laptop. She took up the entire dining table with her craft supplies. I mean, when had arts become so cutthroat? I could not with her.
Lil y was probably negotiating Clorox wipes and toilet paper on the elementary school black market in exchange for electronics. If she were the mastermind behind an entire underground network, no one would be surprised, and my parents would probably reward her with the rarely seen fresh donut.
I rol ed my eyes, grabbed a piece of sourdough (because baking as a family was our thing now), and went to the bedroom I shared with Lil y. It
was big enough for two twin beds, two nightstands, one dresser, and two desks. Every surface was covered with snacks. There were various bags of chips and cookie containers on the floor. Half-eaten bags of al four flavors of Teddy Grahams in empty popcorn bowls. Just looking at the soda bottles in the corner made my stomach hurt. Yet I stil stuffed my face.
I plopped onto my bed, which I hadn’t made in who knows how long, and felt something hard slide beneath my hand as I eased back against the pil ows.
“What the…” I snatched the control er headset. “So that’s where you went. Been looking for you since last week.” Now I could final y get back to playing video games with the girls and talk about…bread. Marly and Janice were also baking a lot these days. Marly had gotten into sewing super cute handmade masks, and Janice had added TikTok videos to her repertoire, which seemed more productive than whatever I was doing.
I was too bored to play. And I had a terrible stabby headache from al the screen time and noise. I just wanted to nap. Lil y’s voice carried through the hal way as she told someone named Matthew to raise his virtual hand if he wanted to talk or she’d mute him indefinitely. Then there was shuffling feet and movement and a closing door. Ma had walked into her room to her desk, which was directly behind my bed. Her muffled voice permeated the wal and went straight into my throbbing head. And Dad was on a lunch break by the sound of clanking pots and pans.