Clarissa hasn’t called or sent me a text message since before she showed up at the house with Decker. There are moments when I want her to call, but this only happens when I feel like disappearing into the darkest corner of my closet or when I wish a massive tidal wave would crash into my house and carry me out to the farthest reaches of the Pacific. But those moments quickly pass when I close my eyes and see Decker’s face, the way his skin paled and how he turned to the imaginary spectacle on the brick pillar. And then I think maybe I should just hold my breath and sink to the bottom of the pool, and stay there.

Would anyone even miss me?

Peter might be upset, although maybe he wouldn’t show it too much. And Mom would be devastated, but I think she’d be most angry by the loss of yet another dream than the death of her only daughter. I think Zach would be the saddest. I know sometimes he feels intimidated around me, like I’m some untouchable being he needs to be careful with, but when we’re at home, away from the masses of people, we’re just a stepbrother and stepsister. We laugh and play games. We watch movies and eat popcorn. The hours I spend with Zach are the only hours when I feel like a real person. For 13 years, I’ve been floating through life like a character in a book or a television show, and I keep waiting for the chapters to end, for the episodes to run out when the story’s been told.

(from Beautiful Girl)