“No, it’s called abuse. You’re lucky I didn’t tell the cops.”

Jason stared at her, disbelieving.

“I know you’re pissed off at the world,” Hannah said, “but you can’t just go around yelling and being a jerk. And you can’t take it out on me anymore.”

“So you’re just taking off? Just like that?”

“Until you’re gone,” Hannah said. “And if you break a restraining order,” she added, “then it’s a crime, and I bet that will mess up your chances in the Marines.”

Jason’s voice wavered. “Have it your way. I’m going to shower.”

“I won’t see you before you go, then,” Hannah said, more softly now. “Good luck.”

They didn’t hug or touch or anything else. Jason just walked out of the room.

We carried Hannah’s stuff to the car, and she said, “Wait.” Natalie and I followed as she ran to the barn, the little fairy wings still on and flapping behind her, to see Buddy and Earl the donkey. When Buddy came over to greet her, Hannah nuzzled her face against his and kissed his nose. She said, “Don’t worry, Buddy, I’ll be back soon. I promise.” Then she wiped her tears away and turned to us. “Let’s go.”

In the car on the way back, I put on your album, the first one, and as you started shouting Break on through, we rolled down the windows and screamed along, and for a moment we forgot about everything that’s hard and just let ourselves feel what we wanted to, which was free.

Yours,

Laurel

Dear Kurt,

Things have gone sort of back to normal after last week. Hannah’s been staying with Natalie, and we’ve been eating at our table again, Natalie and Hannah trading Capri Suns, and me with my Nutter Butters. Instead of going off campus for lunch, Tristan and Kristen have sometimes been eating with us, too, because they are getting nostalgic about the end of high school, which is only three weeks away. Today was the first day that it was real shorts weather. I wore my cutoffs just above my fingertips that I made at the beginning of the year.

Since the night at the bridge, Sky and I have hung out a little bit at school. I’m not exactly sure what’s going on between us, but one good thing is that he’s not seeing Francesca anymore. And then today, I ran into him in the alley, and he asked me if I’d come over later. It was the first time he’d asked me to go to his house during normal hours. Unfortunately, it was an Aunt Amy night, and I had no idea how I’d get to go. I’ve been avoiding Mom entirely, so asking her to tell Aunt Amy to give me permission was out. And I didn’t feel like making up an elaborate lie. That left only one option—try telling Aunt Amy the truth. She’s been extra nice to me ever since I got upset that night, and I figured I had a shot.

When she picked me up after school, I asked her if we could go get French fries. On the way to Arby’s, I kept opening my mouth, and then closing it again. Finally, after we got through the drive-thru line, Aunt Amy turned to hand me the bag. I took a deep breath and said, “So, there’s this guy…”

She looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“… who I like. His name is Sky. He was actually, well, he was my boyfriend for a while.” I waited to see if Aunt Amy would freak out.

Instead of pulling back onto the street, she parked in the lot. Then she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”

“I thought you’d be mad. I mean, it’s just that you never want me to do anything. You hardly let me spend the night at a friend’s house.”

Aunt Amy sighed. “I know that I’ve been a little bit strict with you. There are just so many dangers in this world, Laurel. I never want to see you suffer. Being a teenager was a really painful time for me. And I wanted to protect you from it. From all of it.”

When she said it like that, everything seemed different. She was the way she was not just because she believed in God and sin and all of that, but because she wanted to protect me, and suddenly, I felt thankful that she cared that much. “That’s really nice, Aunt Amy, but don’t you think everyone has to go through stuff?”

She paused a moment, and then she said, “I can’t stop you from growing up. But Laurel, you have to be careful … Of course I would recommend against a sexual relationship, certainly at your age, as would Our Lord, but I want you to know that if you do get into a situation where you—”

Oh no. A sex talk with Aunt Amy. I cut her off. “Right, well, we’re not. Having sex. I haven’t. We’re not even together anymore.” I ate a French fry and offered her the bag.

“What happened?” she asked. “Why did you break up?”

“It’s sort of a long story. Basically, I wasn’t really ready to be with him. There was a lot of stuff I still couldn’t say. And then I found out that he used to like May, which was awful, of course.”

Aunt Amy’s face melted with sympathy. “Yes,” she said, “I imagine that was really difficult.”

“Yeah. But on the other hand, he’s been a great friend, and I think I still like him, and I think he might like me again, too. And he asked me to come over tonight so that we could talk. So, do you think I could go?”

She looked torn. “Will a parent be home?”

“Yes,” I said. “His mom. She’s always there. And I promise not to be out late.”

Finally Aunt Amy said, “Okay.” Then she said, “I’m glad that you felt like you could talk to me.”

I saw that it really had made her happy. “Me too.” I smiled.

So later that evening Aunt Amy drove me to Sky’s. When she let me off, I kissed her cheek and thanked her for letting me go, and then I walked up to his door. The bulbs we’d planted in the fall were blooming now—tulips craning their necks all in the same direction, toward where the sun comes up.

I ignored my pounding heart and knocked.

Sky answered. “Hi,” he said. His body in the doorway was like a wall, protecting the house. We stood there in silence for a moment, and I wondered if maybe he’d changed his mind about asking me over.

“So, can I come in?”

Over his shoulder, I could see the shadow of his mother, peering toward the open door. “Skylar, who’s there?”

Finally I just ducked under his arm and stepped inside. The television was on, talking about someone’s dream house. Sky’s mom walked over. She had on her same bathrobe, and her hair was in the same frayed bun. She pointed to the cut tulips from the yard that stood proudly in a vase amid the clutter.

“Did you know if you put a penny in the water it keeps them straight?” she asked.

“Oh,” I said, “no, what a good trick. They’re really pretty.”

She smiled the kind of smile that made it seem as if it had honestly occurred to her to be happy in that moment. But then she just kept looking at me, like she was trying to figure out who I was.

“Mom, it’s Laurel,” Sky said. “You met her before. Outside, when we were planting the flowers.”

“Oh,” she said, “silly me.” But her eyes didn’t flash with recognition. “Can I get you a cup of tea?” she asked, a bit bewildered.

I followed her to the kitchen while she made it. Sky tried to help, but she swatted him away. She performed the ritual with careful, measured steps, as if she had memorized the motions as handles to hold on to, to keep her upright.

When I took the cup and smelled the peppermint steam, she said, “Skylar, I’m going to lie down. I’ll leave you two alone.”

I followed Sky across the squeaky floors to his bedroom. Unlike in the rest of the house, everything in his room had a place. The furniture and posters lined up in straight lines, like they were working hard to form a kind of sense. He had one of your posters, the one from In Utero, and one of the Rolling Stones.

Sky propped a pillow against the bedpost and gestured for me to sit down. I arranged myself on the edge of his bed.