Chapters (47)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Part Two
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Part Three
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Acknowledgments
- Excerpt from Survive the Dome
- Prologue
- 6 Months Later
- One
- About the Author
- Back Cover
“Michael, I get it. This is a big risk. But my life has totally flipped around. I love that I get to be with you… But I don’t know if this is the life I want, especially when it came at the cost of someone else’s life. I can’t explain it, but I know you’re wrong when you say I care more about Blake than I do about you.”
“Am I?” Michael asks. “Look at me right now and tell me that you’re not doing this only because of him. Because he misses his brother. Because you have the power to make him feel better.”
“That’s part of it!” I yell, turning to him. “That’s what a good person does, Michael! They try to fix people. They try to help!”
“There you go again, with your whole ‘try to help’ and ‘be a saint’ bullshit! Before, you mentioned everyone you love. Your parents, your best friend…Blake. But you didn’t mention me. Or what this is going to do to me. And maybe I’m wrong—God, I freakin’ hope I’m wrong. Maybe you don’t love him the way I think you do. But if you do this, you’re making a choice.”
“Wait,” I say. “Slow down. What are you saying right now?”
“I think I’m being pretty clear.”
“No, what are you trying to say about us?”
Michael pauses again, and this time, it’s not to think. He pauses like a breath that’s being held or a moment that’s being skipped, as if he’s trying to decide whether what he wants to say is truly what he wants to say.
“I’m saying that I would do anything for you, really. I’d wait for you. I’d live a life where we only have these fleeting moments together. For me, this is enough. But it’s not enough for you. I can tell. I—”
“Please, Michael, stop,” I whisper as I get up. “I’m going. Because… Well, because of how I feel about you. I don’t want the last memory that I have of you to be of this.”
December 22, 2020. That’s the date I have in my mind. I know the location, too: the coffee shop where Isobel and I often go for late-night study sessions. A lot of high school and college students go there. And I know that when I leave, my heart will break. But unlike Michael, this isn’t enough for me. I love him, but we don’t make sense. I can’t live half a life. I thought maybe I could, but this last day with him has proven that I’d get lost here with him. Lost in the past, when I should be moving toward my future. And if I don’t leave now, I’ll never want to leave. I hope he understands.