Chapters (53)
- Cover
- Part 1
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- Part II
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- Part III
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- DAWN.
- EMILY.
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Back Cover
But I was drunk enough that I didn’t care. I gave the old queens kisses on the cheek and bought us all shots. The last thing I remember was the bartender handing me a glass of water and me pouring it on his head. He kicked me out, and I suppose I walked home, but I have no specific recollection. In my apartment, I vaguely remember opening another bottle of Cook’s and smoking cigarettes out the window and calling people who didn’t pick up the phone. I don’t even want to look at my call log.
The knocking gets louder. My phone dings. It’s Bo. I’m outside.
What the hell? My apartment is a mess. I am a mess. I can’t let him see it like this.
Give me a minute, I text back.
I jump out of bed and start throwing empty Cook’s bottles and cigarette butts and Coke cans I’ve used as ashtrays into the garbage. I open the window and turn on the fan and light some incense.
In the bathroom, I’m shocked by my reflection. My hair is sticking out in a thousand directions like Albert Einstein’s. Black smudges underline my puffy eyes. I splash some cold water on my face and remove my makeup with a wipe. I put my hair up into a bun on top of my head with a teal scrunchie. I wash my mouth out with Listerine and then douse myself in Ralph by Ralph. I put on my bathrobe and flip-flops.
I take a big gulp of Cook’s for courage and open the front door.
Bo is sitting on the curb smoking a cigarette.
“My babyyyyy,” I say, walking across the dead grass toward him.
He turns around, and I walk toward him with open arms. He stands up, and when I try to hug him, he backs away.
“I’m upset with you,” he says. He’s never said anything like this to me before. I respond with my most wounded expression, the face that normally gets me what I want. Tears start to well up in my eyes.
“Let’s go inside,” he says. I’ve never seen this side of him before. He’s normally so passive and yielding with me. Distant, sure, but never firm like this. Maybe he’s finally becoming a man. I thought I wanted this, but now that it’s happening, I’m not sure I like it.