Zach’s face has gone stark white. “Mom?” He gags on the word. He turns to me, panic clear in his eyes.

My brain fuzzes. A giant glass wall slams down between me and the rest of the world. My head detaches from my body and floats up to the ceiling. A voice says I have to go to the bathroom in a strange, high pitch. It can’t be me—I’ve always been an alto. But then someone who looks a lot like me bolts out of the kitchen and down the hall. It’s like a robot has taken control of my body.

Once I get to the bathroom, I’m breathing hard. In the mirror, my face is wrong. More like Jordan’s than ever. Like our shared features are eating away at my individual ones. I sink down to the edge of the tub and drop my head into my hands, trying to remind myself that it isn’t real, to breathe, just breathe. I don’t want to have a panic attack in the middle of the Tellers’ house.

There’s a knock on the door, and I can’t even summon the strength to tell him to go away.

“May?” Zach’s voice, through the door. “Are you okay? I am so sorry. I had no idea….Can I come in?”

I nod into my hands. My body has frozen in this position.

He waits a second, and then: “I’m coming in, okay?” Through my hands, I see the door open, and then his shoes. He sits down next to me. “Hey…” He hesitates, and then he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Is this all right?”

I nod, and a sob fills the room. It sounds like the cry of an injured animal.

“Look, we can run out the back door right now if you want. You and me. I don’t care what they think. Fuck them. I mean, Jesus. My mom is never here, and she picks tonight to come home….” He trails off. The heat of his hand on my shoulder pins me in the moment.

My heart thuds in my chest so hard I swear my ribs are going to break. “There’s a back door?” My voice shakes, but at least I’m able to speak. At least I recognize it as my voice.

“Yes!” He sounds so eager to fix this, and a wave of shame crashes over me. I made his life such a hell with my dumb, immature vandalism. I bet his mom didn’t even see any of the messages I left. I bet Zach cleaned up his family’s mess, again.

I realize I don’t want to run out the back. I don’t want to be the cause of yet another situation Zach is forced to deal with.