Back Love, Heather
Chapters (42)
  1. Title Page
  2. Dedication
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. Prologue
  5. Part 1: March
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Part 2: April
  14. Chapter 8
  15. Chapter 9
  16. Chapter 10
  17. Chapter 11
  18. Chapter 12
  19. Chapter 13
  20. Chapter 14
  21. Chapter 15
  22. Chapter 16
  23. Chapter 17
  24. Chapter 18
  25. Chapter 19
  26. Chapter 20
  27. Chapter 21
  28. Chapter 22
  29. Chapter 23
  30. Chapter 24
  31. Chapter 25
  32. Chapter 26
  33. Chapter 27
  34. Chapter 28
  35. Chapter 29
  36. Chapter 30
  37. Part 3: July
  38. Chapter 31
  39. Chapter 32
  40. Epilogue
  41. Also Available by Laurie Petrou
  42. Author Biography

“I don’t understand it all, but I get some of it,” Matthew says one day, into the silence of the room. He is not looking at me. He’s fiddling with the corner of a magazine on his lap.

I say nothing for a bit, and then, “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know,” he says, looking at me. “But we’ve known each other since we were little, Stevie.”

His eyes are so big and honest, and it’s all I can do not to start bawling, and then he says, “I’m your friend.” He looks away while I wipe my eyes, then opens the magazine and starts to read.

Ava comes, too. She’s always gone against the current, so I guess it’s not that big a surprise. She said, the first time she came, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know how bad it was.”

“I thought I had it under control,” I said quietly.

“They expect us to keep quiet,” she said, gripping my hand. “I get how you got there. God, I get so angry sometimes, too. I mean, I could never do that.” She meets my eyes, and I burn with shame.

Me either, I think, not knowing how I got there.

She continues. “But the pain. The anger. You are not alone in that. Half the world feels hurt and angry and we just normalize it. Girls are expected to just … keep going.”

She is more political than I am. She articulates things, wants to talk in solidarity, wants to defend me, or at least explain me. I let her, just so relieved that I have a friend who made it through. The best is when we just share a laugh, or play a game, when we don’t dig deep. When we are just girls. Just friends; that is all, and that is enough.

No one else visits me except Ava, Matthew, and my mom, and these days, that’s ok. Dad came at first, but I told him I wasn’t up for the visits, and he looked relieved. He calls every day, though, and we talk, and it is good.

I’ve become friendly with one of the nurses who isn’t giving me the freeze the way the others are. I know they’ve all read the news; they know why I’m here. They all have their own opinions; nurses are not a timid bunch. They’re not sure if I was trying to kill myself or everyone else.