Maybe if I were younger, I could believe that he would fix this. When I was little, I thought Pops could do anything. Out of all the things I hold on to from my childhood—my memories, my hopes, my fears—I wish I held on to that belief. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel like the world is ending.

CHAPTER 29

Needless to say, this year’s Thanksgiving strays from tradition. Abuelo tells me that it took forever to get Miles to leave after Pops and I disappeared upstairs. Pops spent most of the weekend talking on the phone and speaking with Dad in hushed tones downstairs. It seemed like everyone wanted to talk to me—Tía Camila, Abuelo, Abuela—but they weren’t sure what to say. Even though Tía Camila reported the tweet, she couldn’t get Twitter to take it down. It wouldn’t even help. I’m sure screenshots are being passed around like gum in the middle of a boring class.

I toy with the idea of turning off my phone. It’s exploding with texts from kids from Drama and kids I’ve borrowed homework from, saying stupid things like is it time for me to get tested??? and some oddly nice things, like My prayers are with you <3. Even Mr. Palumbo texts, Here if you need to talk, champ.

Whenever I see Miles’s name, I turn away. All I can think about is how I cried in the bathroom on Thanksgiving while Abuelo asked him to leave because I wasn’t feeling well. How fucking embarrassing.

I don’t want to know what he thinks about this. I don’t want more of him being endlessly kind, especially when people will treat him differently after we go back to school. I don’t want him to be isolated like I’ll be.

I sneak a look at one of his texts, almost hoping that he’s said something ugly that would make this easier, but the first thing I see has a heart emoji. I toss my phone in my drawer.

I’m not sure which is worse: the texts from him or the ones from Claudia and Lydia, who offer to come over like I didn’t scream at them before break. Either way, I refuse to read any more of them. Thinking of my friends is like touching an open wound. It hasn’t even scabbed over, and messing around with it will only make things worse.