Three
Tuesday spent the next month in a fog of grief, unable to do the things she’d once loved. It had been a repetitive cycle of going to school, talking to no one, and then coming home. There was one person she still talked to—Beck—but it was online, between the quiet. Maybe because it was easier that way.
Every Saturday night, Beck would climb up her tree and knock on her window. She didn’t go see who it was, even though she knew it was him. Tuesday knew he felt sorry for her, and that was exactly what she didn’t want. She hadn’t gone to the subway to do any of her performances since that last day when Francis was supposed to show up. That was the day Tuesday had been at Beck’s instead of being home, when Francis had needed her best friend to find her.
Christmas would be here soon, a
