Sarah Dessen

Hey Cass, I'd say, hand me that toothpaste.

I jammed my hand in my jacket pocket, bracing myself for the next hit, and feel something. Something grainy and small, sticking to the tips of my fingers: the sand from Commons Park.

We laughed ourselves silly, taking back our shared past, gently, piece by piece.

I am not," I said. "I've been waiting forever."

It's important." I could hear him moving around, adjusting things, before he came to sit beside me. "Okay," he said. "Take a look."

I'd heard of Evergreen Care Center before. Cass and I had always made fun of the stupid ads they ran on TV, featuring some dragged-out woman with a limp perm and big, painted-on circles under her eyes, downing vodka and sobbing uncontrollably. We can't heal you at Evergreen, the very somber voiceover said. But we can help you to heal yourself. It had become our own running joke, applicable to almost anything.

Duh, he said, smoothing my hair back, Venus and Earth.

Why?" I said, but I did it anyway. "Norman, you are way too into ceremony."

During this time we've been apart, it's you I've thought of when I'm at my weakest, and you who have pulled me through.

Are you ever going to show me the painting?"

She blinked, twice, obviously surprised. Ummm, she said, keeping her eyes on me. I don't know.

I was drowning in broad daylight and no one could tell.