“That doesn’t make any sense! If you like me, you should just be open and honest with me. That’s what people do. That’s how it works,” I said. His eyes looked conflicted and pained, and I thought almost had him, but then he looked down at his hands and shook his head.

“I saw your face yesterday.” His voice clogged painfully. “I don’t want you to ever look at me that way again.”

“I won’t!” I insisted, but we both know that I couldn’t be sure of that. I had no idea what he wasn’t telling me, so I couldn’t promise my reaction to it.

“It’s late.”

“Fine, be that way.” I threw open the car door. “I had a really lovely time tonight and I hope we can do it again real soon.”

“Sweet dreams,” Jack smiled at me, and I smiled back, despite my frustration.

“Yeah, you too.”

By the time I made it up to my apartment, I was struggling not to cry. All Peter had really done was look at me, and it was somehow devastating. An unfailing insistence inside me wanted him, but I refused to listen to it.

Jack and Mae liked me, probably more than they should, and I really liked them, definitely more than I should, and that was enough. That was more than enough! Why did I have to be so greedy?

“Alice?” Milo said timidly, startling me from my thoughts. The apartment was mostly dark, and I hadn’t seen him sitting on the couch, waiting up for me. I had just been leaning against the front door. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just peachy.” I swallowed hard and walked over to the couch.

Milo was talking to me, and that was pretty damn exciting. I pushed Peter and Jack from my thoughts and sat down next to him.

“Did you have a nice time tonight?” Milo asked, and I nodded quickly.

“Yeah. I did. What about you?”

“It was okay,” he shrugged.

“I’m sorry. For the things I said today.” I wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say, or if it made me sound like I was sorry he was gay or something. But it was too late, and I would just deal with how he reacted.

“No, don’t be.” He ran a hand through his brown hair and looked away from me. “When I asked if you were gonna be home tonight, I was upset. But it was because you’ve been gone so much lately, and the other night, when I thought you were going to stay home and eat with me, you left. I just haven’t seen you very much. I kind of missed you.”

“Oh, Milo, I am sorry!” My eyes filled with tears.

He had just missed me, and then I had been so horrible to him. I had been gone a lot lately, thanks to Jack, and I hadn’t even really considered how Milo felt about it. No, scratch that. I did consider it; I just didn’t care. I had to be the worst sister in the world. Really.

“Let me finish,” Milo interjected quietly. “But… you were right. I am attracted to Jack. And guys in general. I just didn’t know how to tell you, or even how to tell myself, I guess. So that’s why I’ve been so distant lately.”

“You know I love you no matter what, right?” I threw my arms around him. He squirmed a little but let me hug him. “I am so sorry I haven’t been around! I promise I’ll spend more time with you!”

“You don’t have to.” He pulled back from my grip but stayed close to me.

“I know that! I want to! I’ve missed you too. And I’m just so sorry for everything.”

“You can quit apologizing,” Milo said, not unkindly. “You didn’t really do that much wrong.”

“I still feel horrible.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He smiled, and I laughed a little.

“We’ll hang out tomorrow. I promise.”

“Okay,” Milo yawned. “I really need to get to bed, though. It’s way past my bedtime.” He got up and started walking to his bedroom.

“Okay,” I nodded, feeling genuinely sad to see him go. “Hey, Milo? I love you.”

“I know.” Then he disappeared into the darkness of his room. I went into my room and changed into my pajamas.

I curled up underneath my covers, and for the first time in a long time, I cried myself to sleep.

- 8 -

At school, Jane poked and prodded me, then repeatedly told me that I looked like hell. I’m sure it had to do with how terrible I slept, and all the strange dreams I couldn’t quite remember. They were mostly a blur of images that I couldn’t decipher, except for one clear image: Peter’s eyes burning through me.

Of course, I couldn’t explain any of this to Jane. It still was a struggle for her not to mention Jack, so I couldn’t either.

Milo had seemed to return to his normal self, much to my relief. When we got home, he started talking rapidly about a new recipe he wanted to try out.

Last night, I’d managed to forget to eat anything, and at lunch, I had still felt too tired and out-of-it to eat. But once I was in the safety of my apartment listening to Milo rattle of a list of tasty ingredients, my appetite came back full swing.

We went to the grocery store to get his recommended supplies, but I was too hungry to wait, so I ate a pear in the store. Milo looked embarrassed, even though I insisted that I’d pay for it (and I did).

Taking the groceries home was always a project because we had to take the bus with arm loads of bags. I wished Mom would spring and buy a car, but it didn’t seem like it was in the cards.

Jack hadn’t text messaged me yet, and I tried to pretend like that didn’t bother me. All through supper, while I attempted to help Milo cook, I had to constantly fight the urge to check my cell phone in my pocket to make sure it was on or I hadn’t missed a message.

After my incident cutting my finger (which apparently hadn’t been that minor since I still required a Boba Fett Band-Aid), Milo left me with all the easy jobs, like washing vegetables, measuring ingredients, and buttering bread.

His supper was ridiculously good. We sat at the table, where I promptly devoured everything.

Mom woke up, and we offered her a plate, but she just shook her head and hurried out the door. We’d seen her for a total of ten minutes that day, but I imagined that if we were to add it up, we saw her an average of an hour a week.

“You should really go to culinary school,” I told Milo. “You’re amazing. This is definitely something you should do for a living.”