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I'm not sure I want to hear any more, not sure I can take it. But I have to. I have her talking about it, something she's never done. I have to see it through.
    "That fucker got me pregnant."
    "Jesus, Allie, I didn't know," I say, shocked by this new information, heart now aching for my once good friend.
    "No one knew that part. My world came crashing down. My dad continued to ignore it, ignore me. He couldn't even look at me. Still can't. My mom took me to get rid of what she called 'the abomination.' The old Allie died that day, on the sticker bushes, right along with her virginity and her self-respect. Sex is an act of love? What a fucking joke. Painful and ugly, that's what it is. And don't even show me a piece of candy—I'll ram it down your fucking throat. I don't touch it anymore, haven't eaten a piece since."
    "It looks like you don't eat much of anything. Do you?"
    "Sometimes. I usually get rid of it though."
    "Get rid of it?" I ask, immediately regretting my ignorance.
    "Yeah, get rid of it. Stick my finger down my throat, puke it up," she replies.
    "Why?"
    "Because it feels good. It feels good to force it out, like I'm ridding myself of everything, everything bad, everything toxic that's ever touched me, been inside me. I was so stupid, such a fat cow. I just had to have that damn candy. If it weren't for that candy, none of this would have happened."
    "It might have," I say. "Another day, another place, another girl. It wasn't about you or your candy habit. It was about some psycho fuck that gets off on hurting people. You should get help. You're slowly killing yourself, you know."
    "I don't care. No one cares. Anyway, like I said, I'm already dead."
    "I care, Allie. That's why I'm here. And you shouldn't choose death. It'll come for you soon enough."
    Allie turns her eyes toward mine, glossed over from drugs and tears. "I don't know how to live anymore, Austin, how to be normal, how to deal. I only know how to get numb, how to purge. I don't even remember that fat girl that used to be me, and you're talking about getting her back? I wouldn't even know where to start."
    "Forgiveness," I tell her.
    "Forgive who? That fucking rapist in the bushes who took everything from me?"
    "No. You start by forgiving yourself."
    "Myself ?"
    "Yes, you can't blame yourself for what's happened to you. It's not your fault."
    "Why does it feel like it is?"
    "I don't know, maybe because the people around you made you feel that way by not hearing you, or seeing you, so it's been building up inside, eating away at you. You try to rid yourself of it through eating disorders and addictions. I want Allie back. My Allie. Fun, cool, totally hilarious Allie. I think she's still in there, dying to get out. You need to talk to someone—a counselor, your doctor, me, anyone you think can help."
    "What if I just want to die?"
    "Then I will be sad and disappointed that you cheated yourself out of your chance at existence. Not all of us have that opportunity, you know, to choose life."
    She sits, nodding at nothing in particular, then says, "Why do you care so much? I mean, no one else seems to."
    I have to think for a minute. It's hard to put into words what's been driving me this weekend. I wasn't sure I even understood it. Then I say, "Because I'm looking at the world through new eyes, that's why. And I don't like everything I'm seeing. I guess I'm also a little jealous."
    She looks at me. "Jealous?" she says.
    "Yes. You have a chance to live and breathe. Take it. You never know when that life, that breath, is going to be snatched away." We sit in silence for a moment, and then I stand to leave. "I've got to go now, Allie. Are you okay?"
    She looks up at me, nods again. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks for coming by. I appreciate it. Tell Kaylee I said hey."
    "Sure," I say. I try to read her face, to see if maybe I had gotten through to her. It's hard to tell. I leave. She doesn't get up, doesn't walk me to the door, just sits, nodding, thinking. I did