Did you hear there are a few other kids from our school in the hospital? None of them are seniors and their names didn’t sound familiar—but it’s still scary. Maybe that’s why school feels pointless right now.

Gabriela

It’s always felt kind of pointless, TBH. But yeah, definitely now more than before.

Parisa

My dad said that’s how he felt after 9/11. He was in grad school and it suddenly felt weird to go to class or even study because life just felt so random and arbitrary. Not to mention he was scared he was going to die in a terrorist attack.

He said that some days he couldn’t even walk down the street without people yelling racist shit at him. Camel jockey, Sand N-word, Osama.

Gabriela

That is SO fucked up. I hate it here sometimes.

Parisa

Me too. I’m glad we weren’t alive for any of that. Witnessing history is really overrated.

Anyway, I’ll get out of this funk soon enough. I feel bad complaining at all. It’s not like my parents can’t pay the bills or something.

Gabriela

LOL, Parisa. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be sad.

Stop thinking that all rich people are happy and all poor people are sad.

Parisa

I know. I just feel guilty.

Gabriela

Well, that’s because you’re a good person.

Sigh. I miss you.

Parisa

Me too. I hate this. FaceTime later?

Gabriela

Yes please. Xoxo

GABRIELA

The moment I see Wes perched at the bottom of my stairwell, I’m reminded that all is not lost in the world. There’s a Zen and a calm about him that I never picked up on when we hung out at Winchester, probably because I was too much of a cynic to notice anything good about high school. I think a constant state of ease must be what happens to a person when they go through something as life-altering as losing a parent. It’s like when the event you fear the most actually happens, then everything else must seem manageable. Maybe that’s why we haven’t talked much about Andrew. For Wes, it hits differently. Plus, we all deal in our own way, and right now his way is to not talk about it at all. He pulls down his mask and grins at me.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Nothing. It just cheers me up to see your face.” He pulls his mask back up. “Safety first.”

“Safety first,” I agree, keeping my mask on.