I startled awake at the sound of Daisy opening the passenger door. “You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. I turned the car on. Felt my spine straightening.
I reversed out of the parking spot and then waited in line to leave campus.
“You barely even changed my name,” I said. My voice felt squeaky, but I was finding it.
“Huh?” “Ayala, Aza. Beginning of the alphabet to the end and back. Gave her compulsions. Gave her my personality.
Anyone reading it would know how you really feel about me. Mychal. Davis. Everyone at school, probably.”
“Aza,” Daisy said. My real name sounded wrong in her voice. “You’re not —” “Oh, fuck off.”
“I’ve been writing them since I was eleven, and you’ve never read a single one.” “You never asked.”
“First, I did ask. A bunch of times. And then I got tired of you saying you’d read them and never doing it.
And second, I shouldn’t have to ask. You could take three seconds away from your nonstop fucking contemplation of yourself
to think about other people’s interests. Look, I came up with Ayala in like seventh grade.
And it was a dick move, but she’s her own character now. She’s not you, okay?”
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