The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things

After today, he might not want anything at all.

For a few seconds, I stand there, staring upward. It’s a clear night, a blue velvet gown of a sky dressed in diamond stars, but I feel like such an idiot that I can’t appreciate any of it. I do my best to shake it off, then I trudge home. For a day that started out awesome, this one went to hell pretty fast. I’m happy Aunt Gabby is on the phone with Joe when I get back. That way, I can disappear into my room. I love her but she’s all about talking about my emotions, and sometimes I can’t manage it. My feelings are awful and messy and it seems best, today, to ball them up and pretend they don’t exist, even though I can feel them chewing at me from the inside.

I don’t cry myself to sleep.

In fact, I don’t sleep. Much.

The next morning, I look like hell. There isn’t enough concealer to cover the crappy night I had. Over breakfast, Gabby takes one look at me and asks, “Did you have bad dreams? Your mom?”

“No,” I manage to say. “Just a rough night.”

I used to struggle with insomnia, so she’s not surprised. She just nods and kisses my cheek. “Let me know if I can do anything.”


By that I hope she means some herbal tea, not more counseling or actual meds. While sleeping pills knock me out, they also leave me feeling thick and disconnected. I hate taking them, so I was glad when my aunt let me stop. When I first came to stay with her, she hovered. She fussed. She acted like I was delicate machinery about to break down. And this is exactly how I make Shane feel, like I see him as a project or a problem to solve instead of a person—and that’s so far from the truth. Right now I feel miserable and helpless, a delightful combination on Monday morning. Though I haven’t known Shane as long as Ryan, this is ten times worse than our faux breakup.

Just then, my phone pings. A glance tells me it’s from Ryan. Speak of the devil. I have to work this afternoon, so I don’t have time to get into whatever he has in mind—but he isn’t asking me to get together. Instead he just says, I get it, ok? I’m sorry about everything.

I have no idea what he gets. No time to think about it. I’m already late so I grab a protein bar to eat in my first class and throw together some kind of a lunch. I don’t bring enough for everyone or even Shane. The way I feel today, I may go sit behind the school with the burners and inhale enough secondhand smoke to get a buzz on. My ride to school seems longer than usual, and it’s a cold, gray day. Most of the crimson and gold leaves seem to have fallen, leaving skeletal limbs on the dark boughs of the trees. I have no idea how all the color could’ve drained away overnight, but I suspect the answer has to do with Shane. Deep down, I realize I’m being dramatic; there are still trees dressed in gorgeous autumnal hues. I’m just choosing to focus on the bleak, barren ones instead.

It’s that kind of day.

Hurriedly I chain my bike up outside and run to my locker, where I should run into Shane. Only he’s not there. I guess he came and went early to avoid the awkward moment. I should be grateful but my backpack still feels like it weighs forty extra pounds. Lila nudges me as I go by.

“What’s the matter? You look like shit.” Today, she’s wearing a short black skirt, white-and-black-striped tights, black combat boots, and a corset sweater thing in scarlet. She’s way too stylish and dramatic for this school. I wonder how long her hair will be red.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

Her expression softens. “See you at lunch.”

“Yep.”

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