Thomas laughs the whole time.

The text delivers, and I watch the typing bubbles on Bo’s end appear and disappear. I mean, what is he supposed to say? There is nothing to say. All there is to do is laugh. So I continue smoking the blunt with Thomas, and we laugh and laugh until the sky turns pink, and then we drive home.

DAWN.

I’m extremely hungover at work when I receive a text from Bo. He typically doesn’t text me unless I text him first, so I am excited to see his name on my phone. Maybe he misses his mom. I am forever mourning the version of him that craved my attention.

To treat myself, I go outside to my smoking spot to read the text. The sun is bright. I light a cigarette and open the text, feeling giddy. But as soon as I start reading, my excitement drops.

Why did you lie to me about my dad?

I sit down and inhale my cigarette furiously. My brain is having trouble arranging thoughts. I blink and see spots. It is too bright outside.

After a few more puffs, my thoughts begin to cohere. How did Bo find out? I’ve always worried about this moment, but reassured myself with the fact that Paul didn’t even know my last name—hell, he probably didn’t even know my first name. I lied a lot to men, gave them silly fake names like Tiger or Sapphire. And I figured he lived on the East Coast. But now I know he lives in Riverside and has probably been here the whole time. But Bo never comes to Riverside.

How could he find Bo? How could Bo find him?

I think about the driver’s license, which I now keep in my wallet.

How did you find out? I type out, but I don’t send it. It’s the wrong thing to say. I think about calling Steph, but she won’t know what to do either. She doesn’t have any children, but beyond that, we are too similar. We are both party girls, great for a good time, bad at practical advice. But Steph is the only one I told about Paul. Not even my mother knows the truth.

I light another cigarette and open Exalted to distract myself. She posted another meme about Aries being blessed. She’s been posting a lot of things about Aries recently.

“Dawn,” Roberto calls out for me. “We need you.”

I put my phone away and go back into the restaurant.

EMILY.

In the morning, nothing is funny anymore. I am left with the most intense feeling of dread, a sinking in my stomach. Killing myself seems like a lot of work—it has always seemed like a big production—but also, I don’t want to be alive. There is nothing for me on this earth, only pain and shame.