BooksBarbecue
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Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Acknowledgments
  6. Cast of Characters
  7. Part One
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Fifteen
  23. Sixteen
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Part Two
  28. Twenty
  29. Twenty-one
  30. Twenty-two
  31. Twenty-three
  32. Twenty-four
  33. Twenty-five
  34. Twenty-six
  35. Twenty-seven
  36. Twenty-eight
  37. Twenty-nine
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-one
  40. Thirty-two
  41. Thirty-three
  42. Thirty-four
  43. Thirty-five
  44. Thirty-six
  45. Thirty-seven
  46. Thirty-eight
  47. Thirty-nine
  48. Forty
  49. Forty-one
  50. Forty-two
  51. Forty-three
  52. Forty-four
  53. Forty-five
  54. Forty-six
  55. A note on the Author

I don’t know. I think so. It feels true. I need it so.

How could your parents have let it happen?

They didn’t know. They couldn’t have. Because if they did … how could they have let it happen?

If he loved you so much, how come he left without saying good-bye?

Because he did something bad. Because he would have been punished if he had stayed.

Why did you never try to find him?

I was too young. By the time I was old enough, it was too late.

Have you ever loved truly since?

I’ve tried to. I’ve even fooled myself a few times.

I would have had to tell her about Sebastian. Sebastian! A PA! A man who mopped his pizza with a paper towel so he wouldn’t absorb extra grease, so his precious six-pack would remain intact. I would have had to tell her about Aslan. Aslan, for fuck’s sake! Who talked to cobwebs and drank green tea. Beautiful Aslan, who bedazzled me with his pretty vacancy. Who put his fingers inside me and pulled them out knowing the truth, but wouldn’t tell me what it was. I would have had to tell her about the dark inside me, how it itched and jumped and kept me up at night. I would have had to tell her that I would not listen to my mother and that all my life has been about the pursuit of beauty and the ingestion of ugliness.

Rachel said that what I needed was a roommate. The twins said they would love to have me move in with them but that it just wasn’t practical. They were already cramped, what with the dogs, ferret, alligator, and iguana. I stayed a few nights on the sofa next door, but I didn’t like being woken by peering dogs, sitting on my chest, staring, silent and serious, at my face.

I called Rachel back and asked if I could live with her. I thought maybe that’s what she was trying to suggest and was just waiting for me to suggest it myself. But she wasn’t. She said that was way too weird and could she please have her underwear back. I think most of the time Rachel forgets how and why we met. When it comes to her, it comes with a jolt that derails the train of our friendship. I know Rachel likes me, but it’s just not supposed to be. That week I had with Rachel was as much of an affair—more intense, in fact—than the time I spent with her estranged husband. Only Rachel is a lot smarter than Scott is. Smart enough to let good things go before they get taken away.