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move across the city
    as the snow falls
    blurring the beige lines
    of every
    single
    standing
    building.

SOLAR FLARE
    Mom, Dad, the couch,
    Dad says the school called.
    Where have you been?
    I ask him
Why does it matter?
    I’m a Second Semester Senior,
    who cares what I do?
    He asks what’s happened to me.
    Who am I?
    I say I could ask the same of him.
    Mom pats his knee, strokes his hair.
    Tells me not to walk away.
    I laugh, tell her she’s one to talk.
    I pass April drawing a sign in her room:
    SILENCE = DEATH
    it says.
    I slam my bedroom door with a flash,
    a solar flare
    burning on
    the surface of the sun.

HOT WATER
    Next morning,
    James in the kitchen,
    white rice in a red pot.
    He smells like cigarettes,
    black hair sticking up.
    I grab a bowl.
    Life cereal.
    A spoon.
    He says I’ve got a birthday coming up,
    asks if I want any rice.
    I roll my eyes.
    Who eats rice for breakfast?
    He says he’s making it for Dad.
    Mom had to work,
    Dad’s been up all night,
    in the bathroom.
    Dad used to hold my hair back
    when I was sick.
    Now James is up all night with him.
    I pour the milk.
    Tell James he doesn’t need to take care of Dad.
    He says he wants to, he loves him too.
    I don’t give him a chance to say more,
    just throw my spoon,
    full bowl,
    into the sink.
    Rice boils over as I leave.

DIZZYING ME
    A few days later, swirling down the hallway toward Astronomy,
    I hear a sophomore say it:
    Her dad’s HIV Positive.
    But how? He’s married.
    Are they going to get divorced?
    Does her mom have it?
    They must be scared.
    I’d be, like, grossed out.
    Did you hear?
    Isn’t that awful?
    All these questions dizzying me,
    but I have one of my own:
    How do they know?
    My breath comes quick, my head spins,
    and I bump clear into Chloe.

CORNERED
    She’s been crying.
    Her turquoise eyes shining.
    She pulls me into the corner of the hallway,
    asks why I didn’t tell her.
    My insides shrink,
    all I can think to say is I didn’t know how.
    She asks did I think she couldn’t handle it,
    that she wouldn’t understand or be helpful?
    I shake my head no, that’s not it.
    But I don’t say anything
    except I’m sorry.
    We stand in strained silence,
    then the Yearbook advisor
    taps me on the shoulder.

WHAT’S FAIR
    Chloe knows.
    Everyone knows.
    April.
April told everyone
    is all I can think
    as the advisor guides me
    to her office.
    Again.
    She says I haven’t shown I care at all,
    I can no longer be yearbook editor.
    It’s not fair to the rest of the staff,
    they can’t have someone in charge
    who doesn’t want to be.
    Exhausted, I say
fine,
    walk out.
    Punishment only works if you care.

OPPOSITE SIDES OF THE STREET
    I bolt out of school,
    walk fast to the bus stop
    past the diner, the Bagelry.
    April calls out to me, close behind,
    asks why I didn’t wait.
    I whip around, say
    how dare you,
    the whole school knows now,
    about our family.
    I’m not ashamed
    is all she says.
    We board the bus,
    she keeps talking:
    Just because our family is different, doesn’t mean it’s bad.
    I look around at all the people,
    all I see is judgment.
    I tell April I got kicked off Yearbook.
    How Chloe is upset with me
    for not telling her first.
    Can’t imagine what Dylan must think.
    April tells me she’s sorry but I need to start
    letting people in and stop fighting.
    I tell her to stop
    lecturing me.
    We walk home
    on opposite sides of the street,
    hundreds of people walk past me,
    but I’ve never felt more
    alone.

HOLD FAST TO THIS TIME
    Sunday morning, a note slipped under my door:
    Dearest Miranda,
    Happy 18th Birthday!
    You’re all grown up.
    I’m sorry for how hard things have been.
    Hold fast to this time,
    you only have one Senior Year.
    Celebrate!
    Love,
    Dad

STREETS OF HEAVEN
    M ARCH 21, 1994
    The night of my birthday,
    Chloe invites me to come over
    but I say
thanks, no.
    I watch the Oscars, alone.
    We used to watch together,
    as a family,
    place bets.
    But April’s with James,
    volunteering at the Gay Men’s