“You gotta look away now,” he says, and when I lay my head back and face Sebastian, a tear spills out.

  I reach for his hand to hold, and he gives it to me as he sits next to me. Paper presses around my wrist, and I have no clue what’s going on.

  “Are we good?”

  Sebastian leans over me and gives an approving, “Yeah. You’re good,” before looking down at me. “You ready?”

  “Is it going to hurt?”

  “No worse than any of the other shit we go through,” Sam says. “Take a deep breath.”

  The buzzing of the gun is the next thing I hear, and when the needle makes contact, I close my eyes. Sebastian never lets go of my hand.

  Time bends into an abstraction, and I swear this is right where I’m meant to be—in this very moment with my best friend, the only person I trust enough to see me for exactly who I am. It’s strange how paths can cross, how we misjudge so easily, how nothing is as it seems. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but I don’t ponder it for too long before the buzzing stops. Sam continues doing something to my wrist, and when I finally open my eyes, Sebastian has a cheesy grin on his face.

  “What?” I ask, but he doesn’t respond.

  “You ready to see?”

  I face Sam when he says this and then look down to see a thin gray strand stretching around my wrist, almost like a delicate bracelet.

  “Look underneath,” Sebastian tells me, and when I turn my hand, I see it isn’t a bracelet at all.

  It’s a ribbon.

  Over my scar, it’s tied into a tiny bow with the tail ends loosely curled. It’s simple and unobtrusive, and makes the most gruesome part of me a little less ugly.

  Laying my head back, I hold my wrist above me and cry as I settle in the fact that, with Sebastian, I don’t have to worry about explaining the whys when there aren’t any to even explain.

  HARLOW

  From over my sleeve, I rub my wrist to soothe the itch that’s been irritating me. Sam gave me some ointment to use while the tattoo heals, but I left it in my room this morning. I’ve managed to hide the ink from my mother, which hasn’t been hard to do, but my dad knows. He caught a glimpse of it the other day when I was hanging out at his new place.

  He was pretty calm about it, and I was beyond relieved when he agreed not to tell Mom.

  I’m in the clear for a while because he left for Australia yesterday.

  As everyone rushes to their last class of the day, I stop by my locker to grab my anatomy book and spot Sebastian and a few of his friends on the other side of the hall. Spinning the dial to my combination lock, I hear Brent’s unmistakable laugh. I’m so ready for Thanksgiving break next month so I can get some time off from this place.

  When I lift the latch and open my locker, something falls out. It isn’t until I squat down that I see it’s an origami turtle. I smile, and when I stand, I flip it over to find a note from Sebastian.

  You need to make your deformed turtle some deformed friends.

  I laugh under my breath as I look over my shoulder. He reaches into his pocket and slips out the top part of the turtle I made him. When Sebastian gives a pouty face, I shake my head before we both crack smiles. As I turn back to my locker, I catch Kassi glaring at me from down the hall. She then shifts her eyes over to Sebastian, and I know she saw our exchange. I grab my book, close my locker, and head to class.

  Noah is already at his desk when I enter the room.

  “Hey, were you able to finish the research last night?”

  “Crap,” I mutter.

  “Harlow, it’s due tomorrow and you promised you’d get it done.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I tell him, but he’s already aggravated.

  “What is going on with you?”

  “Nothing, I just . . .” I try to think of a lie, but I’m distracted when Kassi comes walking in with Cara.

  Both shoot daggers at me, and my skin flames.

  “I can’t afford a bad grade,” Noah says, but it’s in the background as I pretend to write something in my notebook, hoping they will just ignore me and go to their seats.

  “Hey, slut.” Kassi’s voice is just loud enough to get the attention of a few nearby students.

  My skin radiates in mortification, and I sink down in my seat. I don’t need to look up to know that people are staring at me.

  “FYI, my boyfriend isn’t into the whole teen-mom thing, so you can stop the flirting. You just look desperate.”

  A few people start snickering. I want to run, but I’m paralyzed with anxiety.

  “What the hell is your problem?” Noah defends, but I wish he wouldn’t, he’s only drawing more attention.

  “You aren’t seriously sticking up for this loser, are you?”

  “Why are you pretending to be Sebastian’s girlfriend? The whole school knows he dumped you.”

  God, Noah, stop.

  “Then why was he out with me the other night?”

  She and Cara laugh obnoxiously, but it’s cut off when Mr. Wilcox walks in. “Textbooks out, everyone.”

  My pulse is on fire as I steep in utter embarrassment, wishing to the gods above to vanish me into thin air.

  “She’s a bitch,” Noah grumbles under his breath, and I drop my pencil before my death grip snaps it in two.

  “I don’t need you sticking up for me,” I whisper, and when I finally get the courage to move, I look at him from the corner of my eye to see he’s ticked off.

  Well, I’m ticked off too. At Noah, at Kassi, and even at Sebastian. He shouldn’t have put that turtle in my locker.

  Grinding my teeth, the hour passes and I have nothing to show for it. How can I possibly pay attention when I’m too busy festering in irritation?

  I’m already packed up before the bell rings, and when it finally sounds, I make a mad dash out of the class as Noah calls for me to wait. But I don’t. Before anyone else can have a chance to say anything to me, I start pushing my way through the halls.

  “Harlow.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, Noah,” I say, but I know he can’t hear me above all the noise now that school is out.

  “Hey, there you are.” Jennifer, the new editor jumps in front me, forcing me to stop. “I know you’re photographing the homecoming game this Friday, but I was wondering if you could also shoot the dance on Saturday night.”

  “Gabby’s assigned to that,” I tell her, wanting to get the heck out of here.

  “She’s sick and can’t do it.”

  “It’s Wednesday. I’m sure she’ll feel better by then.”

  “Why are you running away from me?” Noah says when he finally catches up, and I cringe because I just want to go.

  “Well, if she isn’t, can you do it?”

  “Yeah, whatever.” I dart around her, and Noah trails me.

  “Thanks!”

  “Can you stop for one second?” he gripes, but I keep going. “I feel like there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  Finally making it to the doors, I head out into the parking lot and toward my car. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re never around.”

  A bunch of the lacrosse guys are hanging out at Brent’s truck, which is a few spaces down from my car. Sebastian is with them, and when I go to open my door, Noah steps in between and blocks me.

  “Move.”

  “I thought we were friends.”

  “We are,” I say with exasperation. “Can we talk about this later?”

  “I saw you with him the other day,” he says, and I have no clue what he’s talking about until he adds, “You were leaving the yogurt shop on Main.”

  Chills prick my skin at the truth he knows. Sebastian and I went to Revelations after school at the beginning of the week, I just had no clue anyone had seen us or that I had to worry about it.

  “So, what? You’re following me now?” I don’t mean for my words to come out so sharply, but I’m freaking out.

  “I’m not following you. I was taking my sister and her friend there.”

  My jaw tightens as he stares at me, but I don’t know what to say. I just want to go home.

  “Why are you hanging out with him? He’s an asshole.”

  I want to defend Sebastian and tell Noah that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but that would only spur more questions on his end.

  “Is what Kassi said true? Are you two . . .”

  “Kassi’s full of crap. I can’t even believe you would ask me that.”

  “Trouble in paradise, losers?” Brent hollers, and from over the roof of my car, I see them all laughing at me, but it isn’t until I see Sebastian shove Brent that I bolt.

  Pushing Noah out of the way, I hop into my car, start it, and shift into reverse. As I’m backing out, I see Sebastian in my rearview mirror when he hollers, “Harlow, wait!”

  Everyone is looking at the scene, and I throw my car into drive and get the hell out of here.

  I can still feel all of their eyes on me even after I’m long gone from the parking lot. My trembling hands turn the wheel as I speed to get home, and when I hit a red light, I drop my head as I go into a panic.

  They all know.

  When I look up, I see Sebastian in the reflection of the mirror.

  And now they all saw him chasing after me.

  Panic spins into anger because he promised to keep his distance from me at school.

  The light turns green, and he follows me turn for turn all the way into my neighborhood, which has me fuming mad.

  As soon as I’m in my driveway and out of my car, I’m stalking toward him and screaming, “Why did you do that? Now they all know.”

  “Fuck them.” He slams his door and steps in front of me. “Why do you even care what they think?”

  “Because!”

  “Because why?”

  Balling my fists, I dig my nails into my palms as hard as I can and clench my teeth before I completely explode.

  “Tell me why you want to hide the fact that we’re friends.”

  Turning on my heel, I walk away, needing space to calm down, but things only get worse when a blaring horn sounds from the street. Brent’s truck slows at the end of my driveway and a few other cars come to stop behind him.

  “What the fuck are you doing, man?” Brent shouts as he hangs out his window.

  I stare in horror as the guys from the other cars start shouting at Sebastian, but it isn’t until they shift their focuses on me that I turn and run, trying to outpace their insults—parasite, freak, slut. Frantically, my fingers type in the code for the garage, and when it opens, I dart inside, close it, and run into the house. When I peek out the front window, I see the chaos before leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor.

  Through my cries, I hear Sebastian yelling at them. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but I know he’s only making the situation worse. There’s nothing he can do to fix this, and by tomorrow, the whole school will be talking about it.

  The door rattles when he tries opening it, and I startle.

  “Harlow, open up.”

  “Leave me alone,” I cry.

  “It’s only me. They all left.”

  “I don’t care. Just go.”

  “Harlow, please.”

  I don’t respond, and he doesn’t say anything else. Picking myself up off the floor, I go straight up the stairs and into my room. Dropping onto my bed, I bury my head into my pillow and wail as loud as I can as tears spring from my eyes. My whole body constricts as I scream until I’m breathless and gasping for air. In a sudden shift, I go from hysterical to quiet, the only sounds in my room are my ragged gasps as I go still.

  My heart hammers behind my walls, but my mind hushes. Sitting up, the tear tracks down my face remain but no new ones come. Braced on the edge of my bed, I hang my head as a current of numbness washes over.

  The door cracks open, and when Sebastian steps inside, he’s holding my keys.

  “You left them in your car,” is all he says as he cautiously walks across my room, drops them on to my desk, and sits next to me.

  Instantly, I fall into him and let him wrap me in a consoling hug.

  “I’m sorry.” He’s breathing heavily, and even though I’m furious, I still need him. “Harlow—”

  “I’m mad at you.”

  “I know.”

  Lifting my head, I look at him, and there’s no doubt he feels horrible, but behind that, I see he’s hurt too.

  Slumping my shoulders, I release a defeated sigh. “This is really bad.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. They all look up to you.”

  “I’m over it,” he tells me, and when I shoot him an unconvinced look, he assures, “I’m serious. I’m sick of this.”

  “Of what?”

  “Pretending that we’re strangers.”

  I pull away from him, needing a sliver of distance. “I don’t like them talking about me.”

  “They already talk about you, so what difference does it make?” When I turn back, he goes on to say, “Do you know how hard it is to listen to them tear you down and not say anything? It kills me, but I do it because you asked me to.”

  I never considered his feelings in this. Never did I think it would bother him as much as it is. It brings me so much guilt that I put him in this situation.

  “At this point, they all know something is going on between us, so why hide it? It’s only going to make them talk more.”

  “But what about you?”

  “Like I said, I’m over it. I care more about you than what they think of me.”

  “What about Kassi?” I ask, thinking back to what she said in class about them hanging out.

  He looks confused as he shakes his head. “What about her?”

  I hesitate to tell him because something about it feels weird. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “Did she say something?”

  “Just that you guys were hanging out again.”

  “We aren’t,” he states bluntly. “I saw her at the docks a few weeks ago. She mentioned something about getting back together and then got pissed when I shot it down.” He turns and faces me straight on. “You’re all I have, you know that, right?”

  I nod, because even though I still have my parents, he’s the one I feel the safest with.

  “Tell me we can be done hiding.”

  So many fears of how this is going to look tomorrow when we go back to school surface, but it isn’t fair to him. It isn’t fair to me either. He’s my best friend, and I shouldn’t have to hide that. If they’re going to talk about me one way or the other, he’s right, I’d rather them do it knowing he’s got my back.

  “Okay,” I respond before asking, “Can we bide ourselves a little more time though?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can we ditch out for the rest of the week?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  When an idea pops into my head, I get a sly grin. “Maybe we can drive down to Seattle. I can show you the Fremont Troll.”

  “Dude, your painting alone was enough.” He laughs, and it’s crazy to think about how so much has changed between us since that day in art class.

  SEBASTIAN

  Other’s burdens pile on top of mine every Thursday evening. When I leave AA meetings, I often feel worse than I did when I walked in. Sitting around and listening to people talk about how low they’ve sunk and the dark places alcohol has led them to is unsettling. Sure, some people share their triumphs, but tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

  I hit a wall of cigarette smoke as I walk outside. Everyone is lit up as they always are after a meeting. Addicts exchange one addiction for another—alcohol swapped for coffee and cigarettes.

  “Sebastian?”

  I turn to see Marcus of all people.

  “Hey, I thought it was you,” he says as he takes a drag and walks over to me, slowly blowing out a plume of smoke.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I still come to meetings every once and a while,” he tells me before asking, “How have you been?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “It’s good to see you in a meeting.”

  I shrug because I’m not exactly here by choice. “It’s part of my probation.”

  “How often do they have you coming?”

  “Every week for a year.”

  “Are they helping?”

  “Yeah,” I say, but he looks skeptical.

  He should be, I’m a total fraud. The only time I make a conscious effort to stay sober is for the five days leading up to when I have to check in with my probation officer for my once-a-month urine alcohol test.

  “You got a sponsor?”

  “No.”

  He nods slowly, and I shift from foot to foot, wanting to leave before he calls me on my shit.

  “Well, hey, I have to run, but . . .” He takes another puff before digging out his wallet and pulling out a random business card. After patting his pockets, he turns to the girl standing next to him and gives a nudge, asking, “Hey, you got something to write with?”

  She rummages through her purse and retrieves a pen.

  “Thanks.” He scribbles his phone number on the back of the card and then hands it to me. “Here.”

  “What’s this for?”

  “Sobriety is full of pitfalls. That’s my cell, just in case you ever need it.”

  Marcus was always cool with me while I was Hopewell. He was cool with Harlow too, bending the rules when he felt it was needed. It’s easy to see that he cares and his job means something to him.

  “Thanks.” I shove the card into my back pocket.

  “I’ll see you around,” he says, dropping the cigarette and smashing it beneath his foot.

  We clap hands, and I watch as he walks out to the parking lot and gets into his car before heading over to mine. When I pull out of the space, a heavy yawn hits me hard. Yesterday was a shit day at school, so Harlow and I skipped today, and we’ll be doing the same tomorrow. She promised me she would go back on Monday, but I know she’s freaking out about it.