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I drop it as a joke, then realize that the first time I was talking to burnedoutgirl she was not forty yards from me as I sat in the cafeteria. Then she walked right into me afterward and told me to get the fuck away from her.

Shit, I have to tell her. I have to come clean and own up for once in my life. Continuing to talk to her without her being aware I know who she is might be a lie of omission, but it’s still a lie. I wanted to keep this pure, keep it true. Keep the one good thing I have in my life from becoming a cesspit, like everything else. But of course it can’t stay that way. Because I touched it, and everything that I touch bleeds or rots.

burnedoutgirl: Ha, no. Not literally. Metaphorically yes.

burnedoutgirl: A lot of things are fucked right now and I messed with my meds this morning which was not smart so my head is fuzzy and I can’t think straight

I’ve never dealt with meds, but I absolutely can identify with not being able to think straight.

averageamericanmale: Tell me your crooked thoughts then

burnedoutgirl: I can’t with all of them. You’ll think I’m legit batshit crazy.

averageamericanmale: Start with what is currently your least batshit thought

burnedoutgirl: Okay.

burnedoutgirl: I was wondering if my life would be the same if I was born in a different century. I mean it would be, because I wouldn’t be able to vote and would have a higher chance of dying in childbirth, but I mean like my internal life. Thoughts and feelings

averageamericanmale: No, I get it. If I had real ass problems like if I don’t bag anything on a hunt today I’m going to starve, I probably wouldn’t be worried so much about whether this other guy has better pecs than me.

averageamericanmale: He doesn’t, btw

burnedoutgirl: Ha

burnedoutgirl: Yeah, kind of. In the apocalypse will I care if no one likes me?

That’s a gut punch, mostly because it’s true. Nobody likes Ava; Hailey’s and Ethan’s displeasure with her made it very clear to the rest of Bethington that being friends with Ava meant being enemies with them. And nobody wants that. I think of Nickel and Dime, their hairless muzzles and torn upper lips. You don’t even have to be Ethan’s enemy and you still might end up bruised and broken if he has a use for you.

averageamericanmale: I firmly believe the apocalypse is the only world I can thrive in.

averageamericanmale: My constant fixation on worst-case scenarios would actually be a benefit. I would kick the apocalypse’s ass.

burnedoutgirl: Same, at this point I think I can identify most edible plants and know the medicinal properties of some of them. Plus, I’m getting pretty handy with stitches.

Okay, that is weirdly hot.

averageamericanmale: I have my CPR training, so we’re covered on bodily harm

burnedoutgirl: You sound like a useful person to have around if I’m unresponsive

Fuck. That one cuts in ways she has no idea about, because she doesn’t know who I am. Which is completely fucking unfair.

averageamericanmale: We should compare notes, come up with our survival plan

She doesn’t answer for a little bit, and I’m afraid that I’ve blown it.

burnedoutgirl: Are you asking to meet in person?

I . . . fuck, am I ? I don’t know, because I can’t keep talking to burnedoutgirl without coming clean about who I am, but I also can’t just show up somewhere and be all “You might remember me from when you thought you were sexually assaulted.”

Shit, that sounds so bad. And I didn’t even say it aloud. I didn’t even type it. Which I definitely cannot do, because if I identify myself over text she’ll report, block, delete me faster than Hailey’s temper can flash. Which reminds me that I really need to wash out this fingernail scratch on my chest, because I know exactly where her hands have been, and it’s not anywhere I want a bacterial transfer from.

averageamericanmale: Would you want to?

It seems like a good response to her question. Not pushing, not pleading. I put the ball in her court, and she can make the decision.

burnedoutgirl: Can I think about it?