Page 62 of Seven Percent of Ro Devereux
“I don’t want you to die,” I tell her, but that’s all I can manage before I start sobbing. I smash a hand over my face as if I could hide it. “I’m sorry.”
“Ro,” she says, lowering back down next to me. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“My dad’s gone,” I say into my palm. “And Miller. And I just didn’t want to be alone.”
“All right,” Maren says. She pulls my hand away from my face. “Good idea. Come here.”
She hugs me, her chin hooking over my shoulder. There’s a brief silence, and then she says, “Wait. What do you mean, Miller’s ‘gone’?”
“He slept over,” I say into her T-shirt. Somehow it feels like the least significant thing that’s happened in the last twelve hours, but Maren pulls away immediately.
“He slept over?In your bed?”
“Yeah,” I say, but it’s more of a wail than a word. “I finally fixed it just in time to ruin everything else.”
She hugs me back into her, squeezing tight. “Okay, it’s okay.” She runs a hand over my shoulder blade. “But I want more on that later.”
I close my eyes, try to pace my breaths to Maren’s heartbeat.I don’t want to know my future, she told me, all the way back in October.What if I hate what I learn? What if it scares me?
I cry myself dry in the dark quiet of her familiar bedroom, the very first place I ever played MASH.
When I wake up, sunlight burns red through my eyelids. I’m alone in Maren’s room, the sounds of low voices drifting beneath her closed door. My eyes feel like they’re coated in sand. I have the mother of all headaches.
I reach for my phone and pull myself upright when I see that it’s nearly noon. I have texts from Miller, my dad, and Evelyn.Miller first, I think, and know it will probably always be that way now.
Hope you’re sleeping, he sent at eight.Text me when you wake up. I can come back.
Then, at ten when I still hadn’t responded,Everything okay?
I rub my eyes and tap out,Hey, just woke up. Went to Maren’s
The text from my dad is longer, an uncharacteristic paragraph.Ro, I just saw the NYT piece. Tried calling here and home but no response, so assume you’re still asleep. Want to make sure you’re ok. What is XLR8 going to do? Let me know if you need me to leave the café. Call me when you’re up. Love you.
And then, finally, Evelyn’s text. As to-the-point as she always is.Let’s meet at 2.
“You’re awake.”
When I look up, Maren’s head is poked through the doorway. She’s carrying two mugs and holds one out to me. It smells like chocolate and peppermint, and it’s warm against my palms whenI drop my phone to take it.
“I made hot chocolate,” she says, sitting next to me on the bed. “Figured the moment called for it.”
I take a sip, feel it warm me all the way down. “Thank you.”
She studies me, holding her own mug in her lap. She’s in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, her hair in a bun. She’s probably been up for hours. “You look like hell.”
In spite of everything, I snort out a laugh. “Great, thanks.”
“You want to talk about it?”
I draw a shaky breath, then let it out. “I’m going to stop it.”
Maren sips her hot chocolate. “It?”
“MASH,” I say, and it feels like an anvil dropping down through my body. “The whole thing.”
Her eyebrows crawl up under her bangs. “Like, shut the whole thing down? Forever?”
I nod, and my phone buzzes. Miller:Want me to pick you up from there for the meeting?
