Page 110 of Let's Pretend I'm Okay

His jaw clenches, and he slips his feet into his shoes.

“Where are you going?”

“I need some air.”

“We’re talking,” I say.

It’s like he doesn’t hear me. He opens the door and leaves. This isn’t okay. He can’t close down over somethinglike this. I need him to tell me what’s going through his head.

I run outside after him without my shoes. “Don’t walk away from me, Daniel!”

His dark silhouette melts into the night, but as soon as I spot him, I charge after him. He walks faster, heading down the sidewalk. I ignore the small rocks on the pavement that scrape the soles of my feet. As soon as he’s in arm’s reach, I grasp his arm.

He stops, but he refuses to turn.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I say. “Why are you so upset? I don’t understand.” I step in front of him, but as soon as I do, he turns his head farther.

“I,” he says, but pauses. “I don’t want you to see me cry.” He blinks as he bites his lip.

I hook my finger underneath his chin and turn him to face me. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

His tear-filled eyes meet mine, and I can see every ounce of pain he’s holding in. “I already know where I belong. I belong with you, Margo.”

The crack in his voice stabs me to my core. I hate that I’m the reason he’s crying. These are one of those moments where I can’t say it’ll be okay. It won’t. I can’t ignore his shaky breath or his tears.

“I want to be happy, for you, but I don’t know how,” he whispers.

He’s missing the point. “I don’t want you to be happy for me. I want you to feel that way for yourself.”

“I don’t care about myself,” he says.

I know. That’s the problem. I want him to see that not everyone in the world is going to hurt him. It’s okay for him to live his life. I want him to figure out where he belongs inthis strange, unstable world because I know once he does, he’s going to do amazing things.

“I don’t need you to help me cross off the other names on my list,” I say. “Just promise me you’ll help me with yours. Try saying yes. Next time Olive or Laura or Rob invite you to do something, say yes. Next time you see something you want to try, say yes. If we find your dad and he wants to get to know you, say yes. Can you do that?”

He steps back, wiping his eyes and looking away again. “I don’t know.”

I lean, following his gaze. “Could you try?”

He half laughs, half cries at my wide-eyed expression. “I can try.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

His breathing slows, but then his gaze shifts to my feet. “Where’s your shoes?”

I cringe, trying to hide one foot behind the other. “I didn’t put them on.”

“You can’t do that,” he says, bending down to get a better look.

“It’s fine. I used to do it all the time growing up.”

“That was before you were sick,” he says, lifting one of my feet. “I don’t want you to cut your feet on something walking back.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” I ask, crossing my arms. Does he want me to wait while he runs back to grab my shoes?

“I’ll carry you,” he says.

“What?” Nerves ripple through me.

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