But the few times my parents had come up, my chest seemed to catch on fire—like my insides were boiling up and threatening to spill out. It all felt too messy, too… hot. Hitting the ground was simpler.

When I didn’t say anything, Fee flicked me in the arm and their smile broke out. “Hey—I just wanna move the way my body was meant to move, you know?” They cranked the hip-hop song playing on the stereo and started gyrating in their seat, their front teeth biting over their lower lip. A few James Brown–style grunts punched out of their mouth. “I got so much groove to give, Daya—can’t you just see it thumping out from all dis business?” They jabbed their right hip out toward me a couple of times to the beat of the song.

I shook my head. “Weirdo.”

But when the song finished and we were almost at my house, Fee asked, panting a bit from their performance, “You cool? You know I got you, right?” They pushed their fingers through their tangle of hair.

I squeezed my knees. “Yeah, I know. And if I have anything to say, I promise you’ll be the first person I bore to death.” I forced myself to grin.

When we turned onto my street and drove up to the house, Fee parked and turned to me. “You bore me anytime you need to, got it?” They palmed my face like a basketball and gave my head a soft wiggle.

I kept the grin on my face and pushed open the car door, swallowing back the tiny bubble of ache in my throat. After I grabbed my skateboard, I leaned down and said, “See ya, weirdo.”

Twisting toward me, their arm stretched across the back of the passenger seat, Fee winked at me. “Takes one to know one.”

Chapter Five

Dr. Hoang held her hand out in front of her. I’d been using the little rake thing in her miniature Zen garden to whack around the rocks like hockey pucks. I don’t think she appreciated it. I dropped the rake into her palm and slumped back in my chair, refusing to look her in the eye.

“Thank you,” she said, and placed the rake well away from me.

This last visit to Dr. Hoang had been three weeks ago. I was still seeing her every month, even though she’d wanted to see me more often. But I’d thrown a fit and Priam and Vicki had caved. At first I’d had to go every week, even though I hated it. I mean, it’d helped a bit, I guess—the breathing thing and CBT. At least I could get into a car now.