I kept putting thought into telling them about the email from Harbinger, but I didn't know how to broach the subject. Hey, the leader of the site is getting impatient that I haven't socialized more or offed myself. What should I do?

Besides, if I told them about his email, I would have to tell them I wrote back and told him, vaguely, I did have a plan, I just wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to use it yet.

Adam interrupts my thoughts by asking, "Don't you get lonely here?"

I glance at him like I'm not sure if he's actually initiating conversation with me or I'm imagining it. "Sometimes. A little. I mean, I have neighbors all around, so it's not like I'm alone."

"You're just telling yourself that to feel better."

"I guess so." I poke my toes out from beneath my blanket, pressing them to the worn metal of the balcony railings, while being completely unsure what to make of his observation. "At least I have a place. Aren't I supposed to be grateful for that? I could be homeless. Stuck on the streets." If it weren't for Maggie's money, I would be.

"I don't buy it." Adam's brows draw tightly together. He has his blanket cocooned all around him, even hooded about his head. "People are always saying things like that."

"Things like what?"

"Other people have it worse, so you should be grateful for what you have. Like that. It's not fair."

"But it's true. Things could always be worse. We could be digging our dinner out of the dumpsters behind Safeway and hope the expiration dates don't really mean anything. But instead, we're here." My gaze drifts back out over the water. From here it is a black and eerie sight. "With full stomachs, central heat and air, warm showers and—"

"And sometimes none of that matters." He hunches forward in such a way his hair and blanket obscure his face and I can't see him. "It doesn't matter if it could be worse, because even those people living on the street could still say 'it's not as bad as it could be.' You still feel the pain. It still matters. All this means nothing unless you have people around who understand you. People who get that, sometimes, you're just...really, really fucking sad and it's for no reason at all. Then you get pissed off 'cause you realize you're upset without a good reason, and you feel even worse."

I open my mouth, but no words come out.

Because he's right. I am sad. I'm sad a lot, for no reason at all. I've lost Maggie, sure, but even before then, I alternated from being completely indifferent to everything, and feeling so, so sad all the time, and it drove her crazy. It drove Corey crazy, too. Maybe that's why she doesn't want to be my friend anymore.

A sting of tears catches me off-guard. I haven't cried lately. Not over Maggie, not over losing the house or...anything. Except applesauce. I curl in on myself and pull the blanket over my head. If I can't see Adam, I don't want him to see me, either. I don't want him to see that I'm crying over being sad about being sad and not over the things that should really matter.