"At the innermost core of all loneliness is a deep and powerful yearning for union with one's lost self."
- Brendan Behan

Hex could feel the weight of the black and white composition notebook in her hand as she walked back to Ember's place alone, and it seemed heavier with each step. Gus had offered to walk with her, but she needed time to think.

It was impossible to sort out her feelings. Did she really like Gus or did she like him because Adam wasn't here and he was the next best thing? If the latter was true, she needed to completely cut him out of her life. It was unfair. But just as she would make the decision to do so, she would think about the bag of gifts she was keeping beneath her pillow, and the argument in her head would start back at the beginning.

It was those gifts, combined with the multitude of other little things Gus did and said each day, that left her paralyzed and unable to make a decision.

When Adam was alive, Hex never gave much thought to Gus. He was the baby of the group and was treated accordingly. Back then he was so traumatized, small and childlike. So much of their existence revolved around basic survival, and Gus's innocence had been a burden that Hex never had the patience for.

In just a few years, though, Gus had grown up to be someone she couldn't help but admire. And she couldn't explain away his kindness as immaturity or naivety anymore. She knew for a fact that he had seen the worst the world had to give, but he still chose kindness every time. That required a level of strength she hadn't thought was possible for anyone to possess until he came back into her life.

When she got upstairs and into the dark apartment, where everyone else was asleep, Hex crept to her bed on the couch and opened up the notebook again, this time to the pages she hadn't read to Gus, the pages she hadn't dared to show him.

July 5

"I didn't mean for this to happen and it shouldn't have, but Hex says she's pregnant. When she first told me I really freaked out and had to leave for a few hours. I started thinking about all of it. Most of all I'm thinking what kind of father will I be? I know I'm all fucked up. It's not just the crank. I can barely sleep even on downers. The thoughts in my head are racing, and things I don't wanna think about keep coming up. You can't love somebody out of a shitty situation, and I can't love this baby out of the life I know it'll have if we go through with this.

I don't wanna get clean. I don't wanna be in my right mind. I don't wanna think or remember any of it. Hex doesn't get that. She's going cold turkey and I'm not. It's only a matter of time till she decides I'm not worth keeping around, and she's right. It's so much more than just getting high to me. It's the only way I can look at the world and be okay. If I can't even face the world sober, how can I be a father?

July 6

I went to the gas station and got her a ring and asked her to marry me. I can't believe she said yes. I have nothing to give her. Nothing at all. Soon she'll realize that, take the baby away, and I'll have nothing. She's the only good thing I have. Well, her and Gus both, but I don't know if they love the real me or the guy I try to be for everyone else.

July 26

It would be better if I just died or something. Not suicide. That hurts too many people. Not something like that. Something accidental, avoidable, something I can choose without looking like I chose it.

The ouija board told me I would die at 17, and I think about that all the time. Is it true? If it is, why am I not afraid and why do I kinda hope it's real? Hex would be sad, but she'd be better off for it. So would the baby. And Gus would be okay over time. He would move on and find someone else to love. Maybe the board is right, or maybe I'm already dead. What's the difference anymore? Sometimes I'm so numb I wonder if I'm a ghost."

Hex read those lines and closed the book, putting it back in its place underneath the couch.

When she had first read through the notebook in prison, it had filled her with rage. How could he have kept all of this from her? He had assured her he was thrilled about the baby, but now she knew he had been hoping for death instead of fatherhood. Well, he got his wish in the end. Now, she wasn't angry anymore, just sad. Sad that he hadn't felt he could tell her any of this. Sad for the lonely burden he'd carried until the end.

"I'm sorry. Maybe if I had looked closer, I would have seen it," she whispered out loud. "I would have seen what you were trying to do. It makes sense now, even though it hurts. You just didn't want to be here anymore, and I get that."

Silence followed the words. Gus had told her about all the weird things he had seen and heard since Adam's death, and she longed for even one experience like that. There was no making peace with his death when he hadn't given her the closure she needed...

——————

The next day was Gus's day off, but he still spent a few hours at the tattoo shop. When Hex texted him to ask what he was doing, he said it was a surprise.

That night when he came by to see her, Hex immediately noticed his rigid posture, but she didn't mention it until they were under the bridge again. Once they were safe and alone in their familiar spot, Hex turned to look at him.

"Okay, show me," she said.

"Show what?" Gus asked, pretending to be clueless.

"Your back tattoo. I know you got one. You spent three hours at the shop and now you're walking like your shirt still has a hanger in it," she said with a smirk.

Gus started laughing. "Okay fine, but it's not done yet. Just outline."

He reached a hand over his shoulder and pulled his t-shirt up in the back. Hex pushed it the rest of the way to his shoulders.

At first she wasn't sure what it was. It was a huge tattoo that took up all the space on his back. There were lots and lots of skinny trees and things floating through the air.

"Um... what am I looking at?" she asked him.

"It's a forest fire. It'll make more sense with color," Gus said.

"Oh! Okay... why?"

"I watched a show once in juvie, 'cause watching TV was the only thing to do, and it was all educational channels and shit. So this one night I saw a show about a forest fire. They said those fires are actually good for the forests, because they create room for new growth, stuff that wouldn't have grown in the old forest because there wasn't space. And I think that's like my life now. I'm clearing space for new things, and even though it hurts, it's good."

Hex traced a single tree branch, under which was a long scar. Gus jumped at her touch.

"It still hurts pretty bad," he said.

"Sorry. I'll just look."

The closer she studied the tattoo the more she realized that each branch had been meticulously placed to cover a scar. Gus must have asked the artist to do that.

"They covered up your scars," she said quietly.

"Yep, they did. And I learned something: getting tattooed over scar tissue is a real bitch."

"I remember seeing these scars that night you got arrested. You never mentioned them. You never told me or anybody what they were," she said.

"I told Adam. He knew," Gus mumbled.

"What did you tell him?"

"We were just talking about our lives. Things that happened to us. I showed him and told him they're from stuff people did to me before I knew you guys," Gus said.

"What kind of stuff?"

"Like... I have cigarette burns. And I have scars from where they hit me with an extension cord. It built up over time to look like this, and I hated it... I hated knowing it was on me, forever. I couldn't escape it, because it was there, always. Even when I didn't turn around to look in a mirror, I could feel them, and I knew anybody who would ever touch me would feel 'em too, and they'd be grossed out or freaked out."

"Was Adam freaked out?" Hex asked softly.

"You know the answer to that." Gus's eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and Hex looked away from him and nodded.

"Yeah, I know. What did he say about them?"

"He told me they were beautiful, because they were mine and nobody else's. That made them special."

"That sounds like something he would say," Hex said.

Gus seemed lost in the memory, his teary eyes staring ahead at nothing.

"He touched each one."

He raised a hand and moved his fingers like he was playing piano keys.

"Like this. I never had nobody touch me like that... like he was touching a painting or somethin', and I felt special to him. I think that's why I loved him. He made me feel like I was somethin' priceless."

"Yeah... he was good at that. He made me feel that way too," Hex said. "I just wish I coulda done the same for him."

"You did," Gus said with naive certainty.

Hex shook her head. "I was selfish. Immature. I was always yelling at him. Tearing him down. I wish I had known..."

She stopped talking, becoming aware that tears were filling her eyes and she was only a word or two from revealing just how miserable and lonely Adam had been near the end.

"Known what?" Gus asked.

"He just wasn't happy like he seemed. And he didn't use drugs for fun, like everyone thought. It was a lot more than that."

"It always is, isn't it? I don't think anyone gets addicted for fun. It's to hide from something."

"Yeah, guess it is..."

"Do you still hate him?" Gus asked.

Hex sighed. "No. I never did. I was just angry that he left the way he did, that he didn't ask for our help. It's not fair to just disappear like that on the people who love you."

"Well maybe he'll visit you now. I almost always see him in dreams. Dreams are the closest we get to being dead, and that's why I think he can meet me there. Maybe he'll meet you there too," Gus said.

Hex shrugged. "Maybe. Either way, I'm feeling better now... starting to understand. That's all because of you."

"Me?" Gus asked, surprised.

Hex smiled and elbowed him in the ribs. "Yeah you. You see the world so differently from anyone else I know. You force people to look at something from all sides, all perspectives. When I did that, all I could see was how sad he was when he died, and it made me... it made me less angry."

"I did that for you?"

Hex moved closer to Gus, so close she could feel his body heat. She nodded. For several quiet seconds they stared intently at each other's faces, unsure of what would happen next.

"I've been meaning to tell you I like this," Hex said, running her thumb over his eyebrow ring, a recent addition to his growing collection of body modifications.

"Ouch! It ain't healed yet!"

"Oh you pussy, that didn't hurt!"

"How do you know?"

They were grinning at each other. Hex's hand slid from his eyebrow and down his face.

"You've grown up," she said softly.

"Three years."

"No, I mean grown up in other ways. You never told me what happened after they took you back to Cali."

Gus shrugged. "I don't wanna talk about that."

"It was that bad?"

"It was worse."

Surprising herself, Hex leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, then his lips, and Gus kissed her back, softly, just enough to feel his tongue touch hers like a raindrop. She hadn't planned on it, hadn't prepared for it, but in that moment it was all she wanted. That's when she realized that whatever was happening between her and Gus was not only very real, but it was also changing her.