Come on, stop being so weak! You can do it. You got this. Er, I think. . . God, I miss the way they used to—Ugh, stop being so horny.

Under the heat of the sun, May sat there with her finger poised over the "block" button. After gathering all of the courage in the world, she hit it. With that? T had been blocked on Instagram. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders, yet the ghost of T still had an anchor dragging down her heart. Regardless, May shut off her phone and placed it securely in her pocket.

It was now or never. Or something less cliche, I don't know—I'm not that creative, I'm just broken-freaking-hearted.

Holding her head up, May recognized the little pain in the back of her neck for the first time. Rubbing her neck, she only enjoyed about three total seconds of solitude.

"You coming or what?" Phoebe yelled. Ah, how her voice was lyrical like a record scratch. Her voice was beautiful like radioactive waste. Her voice was awakening like melatonin. In other words, May found Phoebe's words could activate both a fight and flight response in her all at once.

"Coming," May called back. Grabbing her heavy backpack, she followed up the wooded trail behind her room-mate.

"Good!" Phoebe said, glancing downward at her from where she stood. "Because I only began to tell you about the prologue to that particular book. Anyway, chapter one starts with—"

It was then May realized that her headache had returned.

Each step up that trail felt more pained than the one before it. Each minute with Phoebe brought more furious pangs of regret. Every single thought and regret itself made her wish that she had experienced a different inciting incident moment. At the very least, that is the author's assumption.

"I have the worst question for you," Phoebe said. Pausing at the top of a rocky hill, she spit down onto the ground below.

May grimaced, trying not to look at the spit. "Why in the world did I come along?"

"No, not that. I wanted to know about T. Were they. . . how do I put this?"

Her body growing heavy, May rubbed the salty beads of sweat away from the corners of her mouth. "Non-binary. T was. . . non-binary."

"Ah. So you're. . ."

"A cis girl?"

"Right, no, I mean. . . what do you like?"

"Oh. I'm not that discerning. I don't think about it."

"Huh." With that, Phoebe charged ahead. "I'm bi, you know."

"Whatever."

"But I'm not looking for anything right now so don't get any ideas."

May paused. Then, she responded with a resounding, "No worries."

"Really, this is just a hike."

"I get it."

"Not a hook-up."

"Oh my god."

"This is so totally homoerotic of us, though, isn't it?"

"It. . . really isn't."

Conquering a rock, Phoebe looked out over the world. "You know what is homoerotic? Chapter seven of my files book. Anyhow. . ."

May clenched her jaw tight, praying she wouldn't end up in jail on strangulation charges.