'Cause the Hardest Part of This is Leaving You.

Lindsey doesn't even knock, just comes in and plonks herself down on the end of the bed. She looks at me strangely, as if she hadn't expected to find me here.

'' What are you doing? '' she says.

'' Why? ''

" Don't you go down stairs anymore? "

" Did my Mom phone you up? "

" Are you in pain? "

" No "

She gives me a suspicious look, then stands up and takes off her jacket. It was a really good one, had the word sniper in yellow on the right breast pocket. It was also tight. Something I would wear. She's wearing a very short dress. It matches the bag she's dumped on the floor.

" Are you going out? " I ask her. " Have you got a date?"

She shrugs, goes over to the window and out at the garden. She circles a finger on then glass, then she says, " Maybe you should try and believe in God. "

Yeah and give up my fantasies of Vampires on Purgatory. It didn't quite fit.
" Should I? "

" Yeah maybe we all should. The whole human race."

" I don't think so. I think he might be dead."

She turns around to look at me. Her face looks a bit drain, her hair straight and blonde, tied up into a loose bun on her head.

She say's " What's that you've written on the wall? "

I don't know why I let her read it. I guess I want something to happen. It's in black ink. With Lindsey looking, all the words wither like spiders. She reads it over and over. I hate how sorry she can be for me. It's completely useless.

She speaks very softly. " It's not exactly Disneyland, is it?"

" Did I say it was? "

" I thought that was the idea "

" Not mine "

" I think your Mom's expecting you to ask for a pony, not a boyfriend. How's she gonna take that? "

I start giggling and Lindsey's joining in. It's amazing, the sound of us laughing. Even though it hurts, I love it. Laughing with Lindsey is absolutely one of my favorite things, because we've both got the same stupid pictures in our heads.
She only has to say "Mmm one with Mom tattoo's " and we're both in hysterics.

Lindsey say's " Are you crying? "

I'm not sure. I think I am. I sound like those woman on the TV when their entire family gets wiped out. I sound like and animal gnawing it's own foot off. Everything just floods in at once-like how my fingers are just bone and my skin is practically see-through. Inside my left lung I can feel cells multiplying, stacking up, like ash slowly filling a vase. Soon I won't be able to breathe.

" It's OK if you're afraid, " Lindsey says. She makes it sound like it's OK to be scared of the dark.

" It's not. "

" Of course it it. Whatever you feel is fine. "

" Imagine it Lindsey-being terrified all the time."

" I can."

But she can't. How can she possibly, when she has her whole life left? I hide under my shirt again, just for a bit, because I'm going to miss breathing. And talking. And drawing- the ink having small blotches on my palms and my index finger. I'm going to miss my bat-belt. And fish. I like fish. I like their little mouths going, open, shut, open.
And where I'm going, you can't take anything with you.
Lindsey watches me wipe my eyes with the corner of my Star Wars sheet.

" Do it with me" I say

She looks startled. " Do what?"

" It's on bits of paper everywhere. I'll write it out properly and you can make me do it."

" Make you do what? The thing you wrote on the wall? "

" Other stuff too, but the boy thing first. You've had sex loads of times, Lindsey, even with girls, so you can find me a cute boy. I've never even been kissed."

I watch my words fall and fold into her. They land somewhere very deep.

" Not loads of times, " she says eventually

" Please, Lindsey. Even if I beg you not to, even if I'm a prick, you must make me do it. I've got a long list of everything I want to do."

When she says 'OK,' she makes it sound easy, as if I only asked her to visit me often.

" You mean it?"

" I said so, didn't I? "

I wonder if she know what she's letting herself in for.
I sit up in bed and watch her fiddle in my clothes draws. I think she's got a plan. That's what's good about Lindsey. She better hurry up though, because I'm starting to think of thinks like gnomes. And Doom Patrol. And paint brushes. I'm going to miss drawing. And my bed. And my basement. And the way Mikey loves the bass. And white things - snow, milk, swans.
Ten minutes later she's back from my cupboard. Lindsey pulls out black jeans that look too small.

" You're wearing this. It's tight. It looks attractive on skinny boys. Trust me."

" Are you taking me out? "

" It's Saturday night, Gee. Ever heard of it?"

Of course. Of course I have.I hadn't been vertical for hours. It makes me feel a bit strange, sort of empty. Lindsey walks over and helps me put on my jeans. I can smell her. I can smell the cleanness of the jeans. The material is soft and it clings to me.

" Why do you want me to wear this? "

" 'Cause you want a boy remember? The tighter the better. " She goes over to my bedside table and grabs my short penciled eyeliner. She does herself over, without using my mirror, and comes over and sits me on he bed.

" And it's good to feel like somebody else sometimes." She traces my left eye before she moves her thumb underneath, trying to make it neat.

" Someone like you? "

She considers this. " Maybe, " she says " Maybe someone like me. " And does the other eye, slightly smudging it near the end.

When I look at myself in the mirror, it's great how different I look-big-eyed and dangerous. It's exciting, as if anything is possible. Even my hair looks good, dramatically shaven rather than my unclean black hair. We look at ourselves, side by side, then she steers me away from the mirror and makes me sit back down on the bed. She drags her bad from the floor and gets on her knees on the floor in front of me. She pulled out a row of eye shadow. It was filled with metallic colors. Lindsey poked her finger into the gold and dabbed it into the silver and pasted it on my eyes.
I could feel it on my tongue. In the back of my throat. She turned away and stiffed through her bag. Lindsey's very pale and very blonde. She's never had a blemish in her life. It's the luck of the draw. She lines her lips and fills in the space with lipstick. She finds some mascara and tells me to look right at her. I try to imagine what it might be to look like her. I often do this, but I can never really get my head around it. When she makes me stand up in front of the mirror again, I glitter. A little like her.

" Where do you want to go? " she says

There are lost of places. A pub. A club. A party. I want a big dark room you can barely move in, with bodies grinding close together. Like a small mosh-pit. I want to hear a thousand songs played incredibly loud. I want to dance. I want to dance to fast that my hair grows long enough for people to trample on. I want my voice to be thunderous above the guitars. I want to get so hot and sweaty that I have to crunch ice in my mouth.
" Let's go...dancing" I say " Let's go find some boys to have sex with. "

" All right." Lindsey picks up her handbag and leads me from the basement.

Mom comes out of the lounge and halfway up the stairs. She pretends she was going to the toilet, and acts all surprised to see us.

" You're up! " she says " It's a miracle! " And she nods towards Lindsey. " How did you manage it? "

Lindsey smiles at the floor. " He just needed a little incentive."

" Which is? "

I lean on one hip and look her right in the eye. " Lindsey's taking me pole dancing. "

" Funny," she says

" No really, "

She shakes her head, runs circles over her belly. I feel sorry for her, because she doesn't know what to do. She breaths out huffs.

" OK, " I say " We're going to a gay bar. "

She looks at her watch as if that'll tell her something new.
" I'll look after him, " Lindsey says. She sounds so wholesome I almost believe her.

" No, " she says " He needs to rest. A club will be smokey and loud. "

" If he needs to rest, why did you phone me? "

" I wanted you to talk to him, not take him away!"

" Don't worry, " Lindsey laughs. " I'll bring him back. "

I can feel all the happiness sliding out of me because Mom's right. I'd have to sleep for a week if I went clubbing. If I use too much energy, I always pay for it later.

" It's OK, " I say. " It doesn't matter, "

Lindsey grabs my arm and pulls me behind her down the stairs. " I've got Mom's car, " she says " I'll bring him home by three. "

Mom tells her no, it's too late; she tells her to bring me back by midnight. She say's it several times as Lindsey grab's a jacket from the closet in the hall. As we go through the front door, I call goodbye, she doesn't answer. Lindsey shuts the door behind us.

" Midnight's OK, " I tell her.

She turns to me on he step " Listen, Gee, if you're gonna do this properly, you're going to have to learn to break the rules. "

" I don't mind being back by midnight. She'll only worry. "

" Let her - it doesn't matter. There are no consequences for someone like you! "

I've never thought about it like that.