“And that’s your justification? The same justification you gave me about Miranda yesterday?” Lily felt like she’d been tricked. Like some huckster had sold her snake oil and blamed her for not reading the fine print when it made her sick. “I used to think I meant more to you than they did, but I don’t, do I?”
“You know I care more about you than I ever have about anyone else.” Tristan was yelling now, and in a way he seemed relieved—like having a big fight would clear the air. “You have no idea the things I’ve gone through for you. I’ve been there for you, defended you, protected you. I could have slept with you the other night on the couch, but I didn’t. I stopped before we went too far because I knew I wasn’t ready to be faithful to you, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“I bet you think that makes you a good person.” Lily wasn’t angry anymore. She just wanted the whole thing to be over. “It doesn’t, Tristan.”
Lily had never shown this side of herself to Tristan—the harder side that had protected her when girls started whispering about her family behind her back—and he didn’t seem to know what to do with it. The look on his face, after the shock had passed, was pure hurt. Then the anger set in. Proud anger.
She saw the shape of him put on his shirt and storm out, but the image was blurry because she didn’t have the strength to focus her eyes. She just couldn’t find a reason to try and stop him. What was the point, really? He wouldn’t be coming back. And if he did, nothing would ever be the same anyway. Their friendship was over.
She repeated the phrase Tristan isn’t my friend anymore in her head, trying to convince herself that it was real.
Lily sat in her bed, legs pulled up, chin resting on her knees, not seeing anything but blurry shapes and colors. Things would never be the same again. Especially not after half the school had witnessed one of her seizures. Lily had been embarrassed many times in her life, but no one outside of Tristan and her family had ever seen her foam at the mouth before. As messed up as her life had been, it was about to get exponentially worse. And this time she would have to face all the jeers and taunts in school alone. Tristan wasn’t her friend anymore and he wouldn’t be there to help get her through it. He wouldn’t stand up for her, or protect her, or drive her home and make her talk about it. Lily didn’t know what to look forward to after a day of horror at school if she couldn’t look forward to seeing him.
Lily stood up and got dressed. Her legs and arms still felt rubbery and weak from the seizure, but they still worked, and that was good enough. Jeans. T-shirt. Chucks. She went outside and down to the shore. She sat on a rock and stared at the water. Gray. Cold. Wild. She let her mind drift out there somewhere with the waves, farther and freer than ever before. There wasn’t one thought in her head. Usually when Lily tried to empty her mind, it became ironically crowded, but not this time. For once, there was silence inside of her, an empty space that seemed to be expanding. Tears slid down her face. She wished she could just disappear.
She heard a faint voice again from far away, a voice that sounded just like hers.
Are you ready to go now?
“Yes,” Lily answered, only feeling half crazy. Maybe this is what her mother felt, she thought. Maybe being crazy didn’t feel crazy at all—it just felt like you were having a conversation with yourself. “I’m done here.”
*
I watch the flames rise around me and hear the wood of the pyre pop and groan. Even though I’m prepared for this, the fear I feel is unavoidable. No matter how strong you think you are, fire has a way of bypassing rational thought. It talks directly to your skin. Your brain never enters into the conversation.
Heat builds around me, and the fire begins to eat into my flesh. Yes, fire has teeth, and it chews at you like a living, breathing animal. It even roars like an animal. When you’re in its mouth, you have to fight for air. Fire, like a lion, likes to suffocate its prey.
The flames rise, and I twist and scream, trying to get away, but the iron shackles on my wrists keep me bound to this stake.