Maybe things aren’t just going to go back to how they were. Maybe they never can
It’s the last day of school. Henny drives me. She graduated already, but she’s coming in to sort out some G.O. stuff or something. I’ve lost track of her multiple projects, to be honest.
The drive is quiet. I open the window, let the sweet June air fill the car. “Aaaahh,” I breathe.
Henny smiles. “You really are feeling a lot better,” she comments. “Listen, Libby, just a word of advice. Don’t talk to your friends about your diagnosis, okay?”
I haven’t, but her bossiness prickles at me. “Why not?”
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