“How’s Edith?” Noah asks as he walks up to Faith and me. It’s been a few days since her stroke and there still isn’t much change. Though she woke up, she still looks like she is not completely there and it’s slowly killing me inside. “She’s hanging on.” Faith answers for me, entwining our hands and offering me a supportive smile. “Well, that’s good to hear,” Noah says, trying to make conversation as he sits at our lunch table. I like Noah. He seems to be a genuine guy who thinks the world of his two best friends. Who doesn’t respect a guy who can put up with two polar opposite girls at the same time? Ever since the time we all hung out in Faith and Mia’s living room, he and I have had a new mutual respect for one another. One that I am certain will grow into a wonderful friendship. Which is refreshing since I really only have Faith. Being the popular guy comes with a lot of things, one of them being lots of acquaintances but no

*Faith POV* The car idles as I sit and stare at the garage door. A stray tear slowly weaves its way down my cheek as I swipe at it furiously. I hate feeling like this. My therapist keeps telling me that healing is a process and even when I ‘heal’ I’ll still have moments when I’m not ok. And today I’m not ok. I feel emotionally drained, and all I want to do is sleep for days. I hate these scars that make me feel so ugly and imperfect.  I have done so well compartmentalizing all my shit so I could help and be there for Cameron. And it felt amazing to do that. I regret nothing. But now I’m being bowled over by my own insecurities and internal pain and I feel so alone. I have people I can call who would be here in a moment for me. But I feel terrible for bothering them with my sob stories. Mia called me the moment I left Cameron his food to ask if we could reschedule our girls-only night. Of course, I said yes. She is in love and happy

*4 months later* * Faith POV* “Come on, Faith!” Cameron shouts “Run faster!” Mia screeches  “Yeah, pretend Mia is coming for you!” Noah adds. I can hear an oof from him, which makes me smile, knowing Mia probably whacked him. I try to tune them out as I run by them on my last lap, hurtling towards the finish line. I need to hone in and focus. Currently, I’m sitting in second place with Mariah right on my heels. My heart is racing with the sheer adrenaline of the race and my legs are exhausted. They feel like jello but I push harder, faster than I have ever gone before. Little by little, I gain on the girl in front of me. Each step vibrates through my leg, pulling me closer to my last victory.

Warm water trickles down my leg as another contraction squeezes my insides in an invisible vice grip. I groan loudly, clutching the counter and leaning over. I hear a clattering beside me and I look over, seeing Izzy holding his little stuffed puppy, his eyes wide in fear. He looks so much like Cameron right now. I smile through the pain as he tentatively steps closer.  “Mommy, you peeped your pants on the floor?” he asks in his sweet 3-year-old voice and I chuckle. “No baby, mommy is going to have a baby. Do you know where mommy’s phone is?” I ask, hoping he might remember where I had it last since I never can recall these days where I put anything.  “Um. Yep!” His tiny little legs work hard as he runs out of the bathroom and bangs around in the living room. “Iz. Izzy?” I call to him. “Yeah, mommy?” “Did you find it?” He walks into the bathroom, holding my phone, and I nearly fall over with rel