COVER

DEDICATION

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FALL

PARISA

I’ve never been drunk or high in my life, but at this very moment, I am regrettably both. And I hate the way it feels. And I hate that I hate the way it feels. So much for hoping I’d be the type who was bold enough to dabble and experiment. The kind of girl who brought the “good shit” to the party instead of the girl who was on the verge of a panic attack because she should have eaten half a gummy instead of a whole one. But this is me, in a nutshell. Always desperate to be twenty degrees cooler than I actually am. I’m an isosceles triangle and my sine, cosine, and tangent are anxiety, insecurity, and irrational fear—all hidden away in uneven angles.

“Are you feeling it?” Gabriela asks me, the slightest trace of a smirk on her face.

My best friend, Gabriela, and I are fully clothed, in our pajamas, sitting in the empty Jacuzzi tub in my bathroom. Even though it’s big enough to fit us comfortably, I told Gabs she wasn’t allowed to fill it with water. I was too scared the mixture of edibles and vodka would lull us to sleep and we’d drown. Dead in a tub with my best friend is not the manner in which I’d like to leave the world. In fact, I don’t want to leave the world at all. But these are the thoughts that spurn the current internal debate I’m having in my head: Should I play it cool or should I tell Gabs that she needs to get my parents, because I’m almost one hundred percent certain that my heart is going to stop and I’m going to take my last breath in a bathroom? I do my best to accomplish the former because I’m so scared she’ll be disappointed in me. Gabs looks so happy. I don’t want to spoil the mood by informing her that I’m about to die on her watch. I knew she would handle our alcohol-and-drug binge better than me, because that effortlessly cool girl I want to be? She’s sitting right in front of me.

“I’m not sure,” I manage to say. “Are you feeling it?”