Hannah Moskowitz

“He says, "But it is really whatever, you know? You've saved me way more times. And we call ourselves friends."It doesn't matter what we call ourselves, really. "You already saved me," I say."That was nothing.""I'm not talking about the cave."He wrinkles his nose."That first day," I say, "When you got up on the rocks to flirt with a human boy."He smiles big, with all his ground-down teeth shining.”

“I hold my finger up to his lips. He flicks his eyes down to look at it."You're absolved," I tell him.He brings his eyes back up to mine. There's no fucking way he knows what that word means. That's a word I dream someone will say to me.So I put it in his language. "You're free.”

“He shakes his head. "They're hunting the Enkis. I know that. And I get that. But . . . we're special.""The reason they want them is because they're special. Anchovies aren't going to cure anyone.""That's not the special I mean." He catches another fish and hugs it to his chest.I'm trying to be gentle. "They're only special to you because they're yours.""I could say the same thing about that cute kid you were holding."Well, shit.”

“I like books. I thought you liked books.""Let's be honest, Rudy, books are pornography for brains. All that subtext and bullshit and hidden imagery.”

“Sometimes I hate the things I am allowed to do.”

“Shit, boy. Look at me. Do they have me right now? Are you tying me up and hitting me and... whatever? Did you trap me?""I..." I shake my head."And do I look free?”

“Her eyes are huge and humid.”

“Pathetic, huh?” He learned that wordfrom me.“Yeah. It’s like the opposite of a fish,right?”

“They scoot away from each other as soon as I open the door, like they’re afraid that their cuddling will bruise my eyes.”

“If this were a fairy tale, this would be the part where the fishboy appears and Diana shoots him through the heart. Because he is a tragic hero, he's our fucking Gatsby, and he lived for his fish and he has to die for his fish. He would never let my fake authority, condoning his abandonment, making up rules about what's okay just to save his life, convince him to give up his family. He would never leave.He would know that without him, none of us will be as good. Me, without a friend; and the fish, without a brother; and the island, without a story; and Diana, without her something real, we will all be a little bit less than we were before we knew him.So he wouldn't leave. Not until I could come with him. And I have never been less able to leave than I am now.But this isn't a fairy tale, and he doesn't appear. We stand here for a long time.He really left.Because it was all that we could do.”

“I’m bored of this. I want to hear about you. Favorite color. Go.”I laugh. “Green.”“I’m green!”“Fuck yeah you are.”“Why are you laughing? Isn’t this what friends do?”“Interrogate each other?”“What? Uh, sure. I don’t know what that means. But yes.”

“I could totally be a . . .whatever.”“Sailor?”“On a boat?”“Yep.”“Yeah.” He’ll sigh all wistfully. “I could be a sailor. But I’m too busy being a fish.”

“What’s love when you’re too fucked up to feel it right?I think it’s a weapon.”

“Craig,” he says, in that tone that’s like, I’m one step away from middle-naming you.”

“Just wanted to let you know I got in all right. And also that my chest hurts as if I MAY BE DYING, because I accidentally left my heart on your kitchen counter. I hate when that happens.”

“I guess I haven't made it clear how I feel about Charlotte. Well, she puts my heart in a microwave and watches as it warms up and explodes. When I'm around her, my blood runs hot and thick. It's beautiful.You could say there's nothing special about her. You could make the case.But, really, she's special because nobody else can do the microwave thing.”

“I don't want to die, but I wish waking up every morning didn't feel like such a fuck-you every single time.”

“I am tough for a reason and it is to fucking destroy the music. I dance hard.”

“My eyes are darting to all the places my magazines are hidden. I feel like an idiot sometimes for having printed evidence. My friends look at stuff on their phones like it's their job. Don't get me wrong, I've looked, and there's some alright stuff online, but I prefer the magazines. I guess I'm a retro sort of man. Call me classy.”

“Dad laughs. “You want to take a break? Go play with them?”The problem is I’m sixteen, almost seventeen, and I don’t want to play with them as much as I want to want to play with them. Maybe this feeling is what Noah’s been running from.”

“Soon we're both frowning hard at the paperwork. "Middle name?" Noah says. "Does Gideon even have a middle name?""I don't know"Noah turns to me and says, "Do you have a middle name?" his glare implying that, if I do, this whole thing is somehow my fault."I...have no idea.""Primary language spoken at home." Noah makes a face. "What does this mean? Our primary language? Gideon's? That's sort of why we're here...""Um, it's under family, so I'm guessing ours?""Well..." Noah lowers his pen. The paperwork has defeated him. "What's our primary language?""English? ASL? Physical affection?""Food?" Noah says."Food's a good guess."He picks up the pen. "I'm writing food, comma passive aggressive.""Good call.”

“Will coos, “Jo.” I pretend he’s saying my name. I pretend he’s calling me back.”

“I don’t tell him about how I have to leave my family organism, break out firmly and finally. I don’t tell him that I’m a parasite, and I’m ruining them. That my functionality is tearing them to pieces.”

“If silence could break bones, I would shatter right now, into pieces of stomachache and blueprints and desperation.”

“Charlotte is a prism for my life. Without her, my existence looks pale and bleak and somewhere near the middle of the suck-meter. But around her, I see clearly that my life isn’t made up of anything mediocre, but instead is some combination of the amazing and the dreadful— my brother who adores me, my parents who want what’s best for me, my brother who’s dying, my parents who won’t understand me. It’s not gray at all; it’s too painfully colorful and fantastic and awful for me to see without her help.”

“How’s everything going, Jonah?” This question is enough to piss me off. I hate counselors ... I have Naomi. I don’t need this crap.”

“Sixteen-year-old guys smell like deodorant and fast food. Then you turn seventeen and you get fresh.”

“You're broken, and you're fixed. And you're better.”

“Break a body, grow a better body. The worse you're hurt, the stronger you get.”

“You only get so many chances to be destroyed. Got to make the most of them.”

“Without Melinda, you'd have no Camus."I exhale. "I know." I know it to my fucking bones.”

“And I know, by Noah's face, that even though he knew it, he didn't believe it, even though we all knew it, we were all holding on, somehow, hoping they'd keep trying, that they could just keep on living and fighting. We trusted them to do that.”

“I'm happy for the kid and everything, but how the fuck does Lio get a friend before me? I live here. 'I told you I could do it :)' Lio IMs me. I want to rip out that smiley's eyes.”

“I hate when people do this. I hate when people hide their cards to feel secret and strong. That's no way of dealing with anything.”

“I want to tell her not to speak, want to say it, but her lips are on mine again and I taste me and I taste her and I don't taste what we're saying and I don't taste Noah. I taste Camus—I owe to such evenings the idea I have of innocence.”

“So once the zookeeper realized it was the monkeys who stole the bananas, he knew there was only one way he'd be able to get them back.""How?" I whispered. My throat was so sore."Don't talk. He had to beat them in shuffleboard, of course.""What?""I said don't talk. Monkeys love shuffleboard."He used a page from a homework assignment he'd failed and a stack of quarters to make a shuffleboard court. I watched the monkeys and the zookeepers have their showdown while I sipped the last of my applejuice."Need more?" Graham asked me without looking up, when my straw skidded against the dry bottom of the box."Uh uh.""You're supposed to drink juice.""I just drank some.""More, though."I shook my head."Drink more juice or the monkeys are going to kill you. The only thing they love more than shuffleboard is beating up dehydrated sick boys.”

“Even though Graham and I went back to arguing and stealing socks and hiding each other's toothbrushes in the litter box, I didn't forget that Graham didn't think I needed a best friend, because either it meant he thought I was cool enough to handle everything alone or—and this was what I hoped—it meant that he was my best friend, quietly, forever, no matter what.I mean, after all, whose skates had I been wearing?”

“When you're grieving, the times you're happy are so much more tragic than the times that you aren't. Because being happy feels fake and it feels temporary and it feels meaningless. And hating being happy is a shitty way to live.”

“That which does not kill us makes us stronger," Jesse deadpans."Exactly. Exactly."Self-improvement through adversity... it isn't bullshit. Exhibit A: my little brother. I can see every muscle in his stomach and shoulders.”

“It's been about six months since I've had something in a cast. Kids at school laugh and call me a klutz. This girl Charlotte carries my books. My parents are baffled. Will cries. Jesse keeps getting sick.You're broken, and you're fixed.And you're better,”

“At the Hospital, everyone thinks about dying.And I'd never been much for romanticizing death-especially not suicide. I'd always been a fan of staying alive.After all, you basically do all you can not to die. All the time. The search for immortality isn't just from storybooks. every day you do it. You buckle your seat-belt, you take vitamin supplements, look both was before you cross the street. And you really think your doing all you can. Bullshit. We can lift weights for fucking hours and we're still going to die.”

“There is no going back, so fuck you, universe.”

“There's so much about girls I don't understand. I don't know how I'm old enough to kiss them but not old enough to talk to them.”

“My life is just something that happened to me.”

“Hellos are harder than good-byes”