I walk carefully down the stairs of Richie’s house, not wanting to wake up any of the boys at the sleepover. I can’t wake them up… shit, why do I always get these panic attacks?! I try to calm my breathing as I reach the bottom of the stairs and peer into the living room, where a movie is playing on the TV.

Walking in to see you, Richie’s older sister watching ‘Ghostbusters’ with a tub of ice cream, we accidentally make eye contact with my glassy eyes and uneven breathing. fuck.