I do have one good thing. One. Ida got a phone, after (I’ve been told) years of begging dad. I make sure to talk to the social worker once or twice a week just so it doesn’t feel like she died, and today he gave me the number. I can talk to my sister today. I type it into my phone, hurried and excited and nervous and a hundred other feelings I couldn’t begin to name, and I press the call button.

One, two, three, four rings. “Hello?”

I take a deep breath. “Ida? It’s Mawce…” And then I hear an ear-peircing scream. Please just be excited please just be excited please just be excited… “Mawce? Really? It’s really you?”

“Yeah, it’s really me.” I can hear Ida’s smile through the phone, wide enough to split her cheeks open. “I- I really miss you.” This is harder than I thought it’d be, but it’s still perfect. “I have so much to tell you, Ida. I-” I start choking up, and then we’re both crying, and it’s beautiful.

We talked for hours. I came out to her, she told me she was pan, we talked about school, friends, music, interests, food, every possible topic you could think of. We promise to text all the time, but we both need to sleep. Fun fact about the Wilder twins: less than five hours of sleep and we will injure someone. One time I tried to rip a boy’s face off, I’m not even kidding. I was in second grade though, so it wasn’t that bad. 

I fall asleep to the sound of my sister’s voice and the hope that tomorrow will be better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even though it’s early January, I felt hot on the way to school. Sometimes walking will do that, I guess. I smiled the whole morning, and even though I did get some “get laid, fag?” comments, It couldn’t dampen my mood. The last semester of Senior year wouldn’t be that bad now that I had Ida. Everyone was taking down Christmas decorations still, and it was difficult to get through the hallways, so  I ended up being late to my favorite class: Advanced Literature.

I sat down, face red and panting from running as fast as I could, and my teacher was kind enough to let it slide. He knew I loved this class. Just then, a boy with the reddest hair I had ever seen and enough freckles to cover him in stars walked in. “Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find the room number!” he said. Mr. Eckles ushered him to the front of the room, and introduced him as Angel Israels, the new kid. “You can sit over there by Mawce, Mister Israels. Feel free to ask him or I any questions you have about this course.”

Of course the cute new guy was sitting next to me. Of course he was. I wasn’t upset about it, I guess, but I wouldn’t say that it made me extraordinarily happy, either. The redhead leaned over, “Hey, why did the teacher say I could ask you questions too? That was kind of weird.”

“This is my favorite class, and I’m the only person Mr. Eckles has ever taught to get higher than a 95% on the midterm exam.” I would like to restate, lovely reader, that people in this town will use verbs as adjectives. I am not smart. Everyone else is just as stupid as you can get. “Woah! Congratulations!” he smiled wide when he said it, and I felt my heart flutter. NO. I cannot get a crush on a boy who is, in all probability, not gay, and whom I have known for LESS THAN TWENTY MINUTES! 

Despite the vivid warning I gave myself, I smiled back. “Thanks. Mawce, by the way.”

“I gathered. Angel,” he stuck out his hand, and we shook. I had heard him be introduced at the beginning of class, but the irony of his name really hit me just then. My dream guy just walked into my favorite part of my day, and his name is Angel. I should write a ballad. Even better, a sonnet. 

The class continued; Eckles talking about rhetorical choices in old vs. new “classic” literature. While that was interesting, I couldn’t help but stare at Angels’ tight curls at the nape of his neck and how the sunlight from the window made him glow. Wow. I am pathetic. But hey, I’d have something really interesting to tell Ida when I got home! Advanced Literature was over far before I wanted it to be, and the walk home in the cold ensued. I did have a coat and hat this year though. Last year we didn’t have enough to eat and stay warm, so we chose to eat. My mom ended up getting a much better job, and I started working part-time as a cashier at a grocery store, so things are better now. Not that it helps me feel any warmer.

I finally made it home, and immediately called Ida. “Guess what?”

“Mmmm… you won the lottery and are now having anal sex with a dolphin?” 

“No, but surprisingly close!”

“Ooh, do tell!”

“So there’s a new kid in my Advanced Lit class, his name is Angel, which is perfectly ironic, he has the most beautiful curly red hair, and a whole sky of freckles. Oh dear. That sounded concerningly enthusiastic… But he can form a full coherent sentence in both English and German, soooo…”