“I don’t like pop music. It grinds against my soul.”

Jamie snorts and stuffs another bite into her mouth. “Offf curse you dan’t,” she says around the food. “Since when does MCR count as popular music? What music do you like? Wasn’t your favorite album the Annie soundtrack when we were kids?” She asks each question without giving me a moment to answer and then looks up thoughtfully. “God, Mom was obsessed with Broadway soundtracks. I forgot about that.”

Mom is obsessed with Broadway soundtracks, present tense. I start picking at the grass near my feet. “I’m into White Chapel now. And the only other artist I really follow is Billie Eilish.”

Jamie purses her lips. “Billie Eilish is most definitely popular music.”

I cross my arms. “Whatever, you can ask me your three questions if you let me ask you mine.”

She shrugs. “Aces. Number one: Why are you here? Does it have something to do with your back?”

I sigh. “It’s a long story.”

“Oh well, fuck it then. I don’t have time for a long story.”

My heart drops.

Jamie snickers. “I’m kidding, Angst Lord. Spill it. What is it with everyone and long stories? I asked to hear the story. I want the story, long or short, it makes no difference.” She nudges me in the arm with her elbow.

I shift away from her. “Don’t touch me and don’t call me Angst Lord.”

She smirks. “It’s a term of endearment.”

“I don’t like it.”

Jamie winks at me.

“And I don’t like winks,” I tell her.

“Noted.” She’s now wearing an irritatingly impish grin. She throws her legs out into an impressive straddle (does she still dance?) and gnashes into her last marshmallow. “Hut me wid a storytume.”

I grab onto the strings dangling from my hoodie. “The story might sound stupid out loud. I’ve only ever told Mom and the doctors what happened, and when I did, I felt stupid.”

She swipes marshmallow off her face with the back of her hand. “What happened?”

I release the laces on my sweatshirt and they spring back up toward my face. “A lot happened. I guess we can rewind all the way back to … I got accepted into a ballet company last August.”

Jamie’s eyes light up. “Hey, congrats on getting into a company! Not that I ever doubted you.” She raises her sticky marshmallow hand for a high five.

Never doubted me. She didn’t even know I was doing it. I glare at her hand and scoot a little farther away.

“Sorry.” Jamie drops her arm. “Keep going.”