“He’s probably avoiding me and I wouldn’t say I blamed him because I fucked it up, and let’s be honest here, we all knew I was going to be the one to fuck it up. I mean, he’s completely perfect and sweet and lovely, and I’m not what he thought I was. And I’m not what I thought I was, so I can’t be what he needs and it totally sucks because I’m pretty sure he’s the guy who was designed and made just for me, like he’s so ridiculously perfect, and it’s worse than Me Before You. I mean, being left behind because of assisted suicide must be awful because, you know, death and all, but that’s fiction and this is real life and it hurts so much worse in real life than it ever does in books. I wish I could turn to the last page and see how it ends, and even though I normally call people who do that, absolute monsters, I would totally do that if this were a book. But he was reading Flowers for Algernon and that…” My voice fell quiet. “Well we all know how that ends.”

Mrs Petrovski frowned. “I don’t know how that ends.”

I sighed. “Probably just as well.”

She leaned in. “Did he tell you he not want to see you?”

“No, I… I walked out on him,” I mumbled. “I… it was…”

“You not talk to him?”

I shook my head.

“You must talk to him. Sometimes talk is not easy, but you must. Communicate is most important!” she declared to the entire bus, her pointer finger held high.

Charles, Sandra, Becky, and Ian all nodded. “It is,” Ian said.

Jesus Christ. Was everyone on the bus invested in our relationship? Had I let all of them down too?

“Sorry if I’ve disappointed you all,” I mumbled.

“You didn’t let us down,” Charles said. “You let yourself down.”

“And Hennessy,” Mrs Petrovski added.

Oh great. Because that’s so much better.

“I’ll see what I can do to fix it,” I lied. Then I willed myself not to cry, and I ignored how everyone now frowned, so I stared out the window until it was my stop.

I got home, stripped the doona off my bed, and cocooned myself on the couch, and stared at that nowhere space between me and the TV. The room grew darker, and when I heard Angus come home, I didn’t even sit up.

His face appeared in front of me, concerned and sad. “Hey, is my Jordan Burrito alive in there?”

“Yeah.” My voice cracked.

His frown grew deeper, but he sat on the coffee table so I could see him. “This is the saddest burrito I’ve ever seen.”

“I was going for cocoon. A chrysalis, even. Just waiting to turn into something prettier before I come out.”

“Bad day?”