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“After my mom bailed me out of the detention center, my lawyer suggested that if I get treatment, the judge might reduce my charge.”

“Treatment just for your drinking?” I ask, already knowing that, on top of our daily group, he goes to another for substance abuse.

“They classified me with alcohol dependency and then Dr. Amberg diagnosed me with anxiety.” He drops his arms and picks at the grass. “He says I use alcohol to medicate the anxiety. He has me popping pills now.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t die when you got behind the wheel.”

He turns to me, seizing my pulse with his intensity. “You’re lucky you didn’t die too.”

I swallow, and my heart double-beats back into rhythm when I drop my head to my knees.

“I’m serious. You scared me.” He pauses, and I pray that it lasts forever, but I should already know that my prayers fall on deaf ears. “Can I askyousomething now?”

“You giving me a choice?” I respond, throwing his words back at him before peeking up.

The serious look in his eyes has me dreading the question before he asks it. “Why do you want to die?”

The answer comes easily, so I give it to him. “Because I don’t know what it feels like to live.”

HARLOW

“Ihaven’t seen my dad since I got here,” Wes says as we play Uno. He slaps down a draw four card and changes the color to red.

“Is he coming today?”

“Nope.” He watches me for a second, laughing when a few cards slip out of my hands.

I scoff. “I have, like, the whole deck. I should just give up now because I’m never going to get rid of all these.”

“No way. I want the thrill of finally beating you.”

I take my time, reorganizing my cards before choosing one to play. “Has he come for any of your private sessions?”

Wes shakes his head.

“So, what’s his deal?”

“I disgust him.”

“Because you’re gay?”

He nods as I lay down a skip, which brings it back to me. I have four more in my hand so I start dumping cards.

“Damn, girl.”

“Relax. You’re going to win, so let me enjoy this moment.” When my turn ends, I ask, “What about your mom? How does she feel about it?”

“She supports me. But my dad isn’t understanding at all. To him, I’m nothing but a fag.”

“He actually said that?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s so messed up.”

He shrugs. “It is what it is, right?”

“I can’t believe he called you that. I mean, it’s so wrong.”