“ ‘She conquered her demons’ ”—hot waves of silence billow from the stall as my voice bounces off the tiles—“ ‘and wore her scars like wings.’ ”

I sing the oh-oh-ohhhs, and when I hit my last oh, a broken whisper—almost inaudible—comes from behind the door.

“Your best friend tried to kill herself.”

I lean my hand against the door, Piper’s words echoing louder than my song.

“I know.”

Piper’s voice almost isn’t there. “Don’t you get it? It’s never going to be okay.”

“I never said it’s going to be okay. I said I’m not leaving.”

Piper’s legs stretch into the next stall, reminding me of how I hid backstage on my first day, terrified of being seen. I half laugh despite myself.

“Three months ago, I actually broke my skin trying so hard to fade away behind a curtain,” I say. “Because I thought I deserved to be alone. That no one could look at me, let alone love me. Then a girl with hot-pink appendages and seriously questionable taste in wigs showed up.”

I try to turn the lock from the outside. I can’t.

“Let me in, Piper. I needed that girl. I still need her. I’m not leaving here without her.”

Piper doesn’t say anything, so I clear my throat and begin to sing another fire song even louder. “ ‘This girl is on fi—’ ”

The door swings open.

“You win! Just shut up!”

On the floor, Piper leans back with a huff.

“You’re the worst,” she says without looking at me.

I sit next to her and shove her softly.

“You love me.”

Piper rests her head on the wall. A tear streaks from the corner of her eye, down her face, dissolving into the scars on her neck.

“I didn’t want to die, you know,” she says. “Not really. I just didn’t want to live anymore.”

More tears fill Piper’s heavy eyes, like she’s holding them in by sheer will.

“I thought if I could just walk, things would be magically better. But I was still me. Still this.” She gestures to the burns visible on her legs behind her plastic braces. “And I was so tired of pretending to be stronger than I feel.”

“Then don’t,” I say. “Not with me.”

I put my arm around Piper and she folds into me, her scars against my second skin. Leaning on me, she deflates, letting out an echoing sob that reverberates in the small stall.

I hold her shaking shoulders on that tiled bathroom floor as we both stop fighting the tears.

After a few minutes, she sits up and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. I pull up my pant leg and unzip the bottom of my compression garments to reveal the bright-winged phoenix on my ankle. Piper sniffles and touches my skin.

“Ms. I’m-Never-Intentionally-Scarring-My-Body got a tattoo? I don’t believe it.”