C15 15

I reread the mystery text and decide not to reply—for all I know, it’s a wrong number. Instead, I tuck my phone back into my pocket and tilt my face toward the sky, closing my eyes. I need a few minutes alone before I can face my family again.

One of the worst things about being so fucked up is the guilt. The guilt of wanting to crawl out of my skin when I spend time with the people I love