Now“You’ll call me if anything goes wrong, right?”“Yes, Dad,” I tell him for the millionth time.“If you don’t want to go, you can change your mind. ”“I know. ” How do I tell him I’m tired of changing my mind? That I need to find a way to do this. It’s just Steve. It’s just a coffeehouse. It’s not a big deal.“Brenda said… Is that the first dream about Jason that you’ve had, Emily?” His voice is low.I think about lying. Almost do, but stop myself. “No. But they’ve been less lately. ” Even though it’s the truth, a bit of guilt still weighs me down, since it’s not the whole truth. Dad’s being cool. He’s letting me go out with Steve. I don’t want to jeopardize the progress we made by telling him about talking to Jason. I don’t even want to think about how he would react.He closes his eyes and I know it’s because he’s hurting. “Why didn’t you tell me?”Because I can’t. Because you don’t believe me. You’ve never said you believe me. “It’s…hard. ”Tell me I can. Tell me you want me to.

My cell beeps, making me jump. “Oh my God. I’m losing it. ”I pick it up to see a text from Steve.Im now a stalker. Jumped your fence. In the pottery room.My lips beg me to smile, but the nausea churning in my stomach makes it impossible. My fingers move to tell Steve I can’t. That I need to be alone. But I feel this little pull to him, too. The urge to watch him play and share gummy bears with him. Spending time with him is starting to feel like my new normal, and though I want nothing more than to be excited about that, I can’t fully muster it up right now.I also can’t tell him no.Dropping my backpack inside the foyer, I go through the house and right out the back. When I open the door to the room, I see Steve sitting on the small couch with his guitar next to him.“I thought you could try to make something again if you want. Or I could give you another lesson— Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve pushes his hair behind his ear so it doesn’t hang in his face.I want to tell him. To tell so

“No. I can promise you they’re not. ”I think about everything that’s happened since we lost Mom. How he pushed me away. How I pushed my friends away before, and now I’ve pushed Steve. Steve was right. I’m not taking my life back. I’m not fighting. Jason is still winning. And maybe… Just maybe he wasn’t all bad, either. It’s not something I will ever know. But maybe he just wanted to feel loved and didn’t know how to find it the way he needed to. Just like me. He’s responsible for his actions, and I’m responsible for mine.Maybe if I could have been stronger, he wouldn’t have been in that car. Or that girl wouldn’t have been with him. Maybe she would still be alive, maybe not. There’s no way of knowing. It could have been the first day they met, or he could have been tricking her the Edwarde way he did me. Either way, I refuse to stand by anymore. Refuse to let people get hurt because I wasn’t strong enough to do something. Even though Jason is dead, I want to fight, for myself, for o

We’re silent for a minute, and then I add, “I know I pulled away first…but you guys aren’t innocent either. The way you treated me. I don’t think I deserved that. ”“You’re right,” Ellie says.“I’m so sorry,” Lillian adds. “Maybe we can try to start over… Go slowly. ”My heart bounces. “I would love that. ”“All of us made mistakes. I’d like to try to get our friendship back, too. ” Ellie looks down.It’s not perfect, but it’s a start. I need to prove things to them, and them to me. The fact that we’re all willing gives me hope.I listen as they talk about some of the things they’ve been doing the past months. Then I talk to them about Steve and tell them I have a new friend named Emery I hope they can meet one day.Each word is a cleansing breath. A compression on my chest bringing me back to life again.And I can’t wait to live.When I finally get up to leave, both girls stand, too. Lillian holds out her pinkie first, then Ellie, and finally me. We link them all together. “Always,”

I continue my descent down the opposite stairway. In the kitchen, the light is currently on. A request for entry. That's how it is. The reason for this is because my father has not yet arrived home, and there is already food waiting for him. I choose to disregard that and run directly to the referee. Check it out. There is some casserole that was left over from breakfast this morning.One-half of a BLT sandwich, most likely the portion that Marie was unable to consume. I won't deal with that at all. There is cheese and macaroni. It is ham. To pickles. The chocolate cake cut into a slice. Wings of chicken. These are nachos. Now we are having a conversation. I grab the package of wings and the nachos that are now dripping with sauce, and I begin eating them on the counter. Before the rear door opens and Marie arrives, I only manage to make it through three of the bedrooms. This is her favorite stance at the moment, and she is currently standing in the doorway with her hands on her hi