November 30

*.*.*.*.*.*

As soon as I arrive home, I see Marla's car in the driveway and my three friends standing next to it, clearly waiting for me. I get closer and Rachel is the first one to see me, smiling and nudging a rambling Marla.

"Happy birthday, Tay," Riley says to me, grabbing me in a hug.

Marla joins in, nearly crushing half my ribs as Rachel slides her arms between us and squeezes closer. I snort as she makes a loud announcement of 'group hug' and my friends sway on the spot.

"Thanks, losers," I answer, smiling despite myself.

"No problem, bitch," Marla counters, flashing a bright smile my way. "Check out what I got."

Before I can say anything, she's pulled open the door of her Chevy and pulled out a large garbage bag.

"You're gifting me garbage," I point out.

She narrows her eyes to scowl at me. "I needed something big enough to carry their shit too." She points a thumb at Riley and Rachel.

"And you thought a garbage bag was the best thing," I note.

"You guys are so freaking ungrateful," Marla says as Riley snickers. "Here --" she throws the bag at Riely who gasps and drops it, "-- carry your stuff yourself."

"Are you three moving into my house?" I ask, making my way over to the front door.

The girls shoot back some comebacks that I don't pay much attention to, my mind still partially preoccupied with dad whom I had left at the cemetery. A part of me regrets not talking to him. Yet another part of me knows he needs to face the loss before he can move on. He can't even begin to move on if he keeps denying he even lost anything.

When I enter the house, I half-expect to find Mom waiting for me. It's nearly noon and I've been out since seven a.m. Mom had been in her room when I left, and now, her door is still closed. Although I want to go check up on her, I also kind of wish she'd do the same for me. As childish as it sounds, she's supposed to be the adult here.

My friends don't give me much time to dwell on my thoughts, following me into my house and heading straight for the stairs leading up to my room. It's like they've already planned out how to spend the rest of the day with me and they don't require my approval to put the plan into motion. Seeing the array of belongings they're carrying, I'm sure this is more than a couple of hours visit and will rather end up becoming an over-the-weekend sleepover.

Sure enough, Marla, Riley, and Racheal soon change into their pajamas and Riley pulls out a giant box of nail colors. I stare at the multitude of colors as she begins to pick out her favorites, afraid of whatever she might have in store for me. Racheal has already busied herself with my laptop and is downloading a ton of stupid movies we can make fun of. I even catch sight of some Korean series I think she's expecting us to watch but I know we'll eventually end up skipping that one after making much fun if it. As for Marla, she's busy pulling out boxes of instant noodles and microwave popcorn and telling me she'll be right back before she leaves my room and heads down to my kitchen like she owns the place.

By nightfall, we've eaten almost ninety percent of the food Marla brought, watched three movies that were equally pathetic, and tried on ten different shades of nail color, one on each of my nails. As Riley bosses me into letting her do nail art on my cropped nails which she frankly insults, I whine for them to leave me alone and let me have some peace. Honestly, though, all four of us know I'd rather be with them than alone today.

"Your mom and dad still live with you, don't they?" Racheal asks me after we've exhausted all our snacks and decided to order pizza.

"Yeah, we haven't heard them since we got here," Marla says, counting the change for the delivery guy who will probably be arriving on our doorstep any minute now.

"They pretend this isn't even a home," I admit to my friends. "We're like strangers living in a hotel, not a family that should probably be dealing with one person's death as a whole."

Racheal and Riley don't answer, glancing at each other, while Marla keeps her gaze fixed on me and purses her lips. I hate it, though, how cautious they are every time I talk about Carter's death. It makes me feel like they're treading on eggshells like the slightest thing would set me off.

"I'm fine, guys," I begin, looking at each of my friends. "It's not like depressed or anything. Yes, I miss Carter. But you don't have to act like I'm someone you can't talk straight to."

"We know," Marla speaks from her standing position at the foot of my bed. "We just don't want to insensitive."

"I know that and I appreciate it," I reassure her while Riley sits on my left and Racheal on my right, watching me closely. "I just ... I don't know. I feel weird. Like I'm a stranger that you guys are just trying to include in the group. It's like you're trying so hard to make me feel ... normal."

"You are normal," Racheal perks up.

"It's just that ... suicide is a serious subject and we don't want to upset you," Marla clarifies.

"And I love you guys for it," I say honestly. "I never feel judged around any of you but ... I'm not some kid you need to watch over. You're not my babysitters, okay? It's not your job to make me feel better or watch out for me all the time."

Marla smiles sadly but nods anyway. I worry a little that she or the others might take my words the wrong way. The look in Marla's eyes, though, doesn't reflect disappointment. She almost looks proud of me.

"Okay, let's do something," I say, jumping so that I can fold my legs under me. "How about each of you tells me what you've been doing or thinking about this past week or month or whenever. Like anything you're worried about or have on your mind."

"I can go first," Racheal says, beaming. "I got asked out --"

"WHAT?" all three of us yell.

"-- by my twelve-year-old neighbor," she adds quickly.

We stare at her.

Racheal snorts. "I know, he's a kid and I said no, duh --"

We exhale a sigh of relief.

"-- but it makes me feel like I'm not going to die alone," she concludes proudly.

Marla bursts out laughing but I pull Racheal into a sideways hug, unable to resist pulling her chubby cheeks.

"You're freaking adorable," I tell her as Marla nods along, sitting down at the foot of the bed.

"Aw, thanks." Racheal blushes. "Because let's face it, I'm not going to be some big-shot company manager and own an enterprise that takes the world by storm. It'll be a miracle if I even graduate college. But this was like that weird revelation that I'm not a total failure. If a twelve-year-old likes me, I must have something likable --"

Before she can finish, Marla, Riley, and I have launched into listing everything likable about Racheal. She's cute, for one, incredibly adorable because of her innocence, and totally comfortable in her own skin. Of all four of us, Racheal has to be the most genuine, unconcerned about the things people say and perfectly okay with being the fat girl nobody in our grade has asked out yet. Her sheer joy at being asked out by her neighbor shows just how pure-hearted she is.

Even if she can be pretty dumb sometimes.

"Okay, well." Marla clears her throat after we finally shut up about Racheal and why any guy -- or enterprise -- would be lucky to have her. "I've decided to go to Boston U anyway."

"But didn't you and Hashir decide to spend some time apart?" Riley reminds her.

"Well, we will," Marla says. "We won't live together or even be in the same grade. Hashir graduates next year just after I start my course work. But I want to be in the same city as him, you know? He'll be undergoing treatment and I want to be somewhere he can reach out to me. I don't want us to keep worrying about travel time and cost and me missing classes to stay with him when he's at the hospital."

"So, has he seen a doctor?" I ask.

Marla nods. "He didn't tell me the details but he did say the doctor's really good and stuff so there's a way for him to actually have hope in the treatment. His family is pretty supportive and I want to be there for him. If he's putting me first, I want to put him first too. And I've already applied at Boston U so I don't really have anything to lose."

"What about your mom?" Racheal asks. "Will she be okay with it?"

"I mean ... she will eventually," Marla says with a frown. "She's kind of saying she doesn't care what I do but, if I pick Hashir, I'm not her daughter or whatever. Like, she's got this thing about me being a strong woman who shouldn't be prioritizing a guy over my future. But ... I want him to be my future."

I reach out and take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sure she'll understand," I comfort her. "Once she sees how happy you are, she'll be happy for you too."

Marla smiles back, clearly relieved that she has at least some support.

"What about you, Ry?" I ask, turning to look at Riley who has been quiet for quite some time now.

I'm surprised to see her nibbling at some noose skin of her lower lip and staring at her own hands, knotting her fingers together.

"Riley?" I nudge her gently. "What's wrong?"

"I've been meaning to tell you guys something," she says, speaking slowly and carefully. "But I didn't because ..." Her eyes find mine and I see sadness swirling in them. "... I didn't want you to worry."

"You can tell us anything, Ry," Marla says.

I don't hear her, though, realizing that Riley is speaking directly to me this time. She doesn't blink as I swallow and pluck up the courage to face whatever I know is a big deal.

"What is it, Riley?" I ask, my voice soft but breathless.

"Well, I've ..." Riley inhales a shuddering breath, pulling up the sleeve of her left arm slowly to reveal her forearm.

It takes me a moment to muster up the strength to look down. And when I finally do, I wish I never had.

"I've been," Riley declares, her voice echoing in my head, "I've been cutting myself."

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

A/N: I really want to develop on Taylor's growth as the story progresses and draws to a close. I plan to end it around 45-46 chapters so everything will fall into place by this time. Also, please do remember this is the first draft. Any and all suggestions and feedback are welcome. You see any typos, tell me. Inconsistencies (such as car models or facial features, eye colors etc), don't be afraid to point out. Thank you for reading. I love you all. ❤️

P.S/ I literally typed this in, like, half an hour. Sorry!