When the withdrawal symptoms had passed enough that Andie was no longer afraid to get more than ten feet from his bed or toilet, he dragged himself into a hot shower and shaved his legs and his armpits for the first time since…he left. He got out his nail stuff and stripped the remains of the old pink polish off of his toenails and fingernails. He replaced it with a fresh coat of Big Apple red because he had always liked pink nails the most. Andie sat staring into his makeup mirror and shaped his eyebrows, wincing at the sting as he tweezed each hair. His face looked strange and pale and gaunt, and as he walked past the mirror in his underwear, he noticed with horror that he could now see his ribs and hipbones and the little nodules of his spine. Worst of all, his ass was a sad echo of its former self.

Gritting his teeth, Andie made a mental note to send his father to the grocery store for some milkshake ingredients because he needed his ass back, and he needed it quick. He was not starting a new life without his ass. In fact, he was going to make his ass even bigger and better than before. He’d eat ice cream and squat his way to glory. He was going to have an ass that made onlookers weep.

Then Andie went downstairs for a very overdue conversation with his father. He hadn’t had much to do for the past few weeks other than an hour or two of make-up school work per day and six or seven hours of crying or raging or staring at the wall. Somewhere around day ten, he’d realized that maybe not feeling anything like himself was a good thing. He stopped trying to become ‘himself’ again, and he started trying to imagine how he could be someone completely different, instead. Someone new and better. He'd thought hard. He'd sent emails. He'd made phone calls.

To that end, Andie’s plans to attend UT were scuppered—that was the old Andie’s plan. New Andie was going to Vandy. Back in the fall, his father had insisted that he apply to one dream school. For Andie, that school had been Vanderbilt. They’d visited the campus a couple of years back, when Oskar had been in full college tour mode. Andie had loved Vanderbilt, but nowhere near as much as he loved Jake. He’d sent in the application to make his father happy.

Andie had gotten his acceptance letter and a scholarship offer a few months later, and his father had been excited and proud, but for Andie, it had been a non-event. There was no question of going anywhere that far away from Ja— Andie cut the thought off before he thought the name, or worse, pictured the face. Vanderbilt's campus had been beautiful, and it was an excellent school, and more importantly, not a single person from Meridian High was going to be there, least of all… Just say it, Andie. You have to just get over it. He’s just a part of your past like high school will be. That was another life. We’re starting over now. Jacob Walker Rivera. There. You did it. It was bearable when he said the whole legal name that way, as if they were strangers. Which was what they actually were now because the person he thought he’d known was gone in more ways than one. The person he'd known– thought he'd known– had loved, protected, and believed him.

“Dad, can we talk?” Andie asked, his voice sounding strange in his ears because he’d used it so infrequently since the withdrawals started.

His dad had startled and jumped up from his recliner like the ghost of freaking Carl Sagan had just wandered into the house. “Yes, of course. Andie, how are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“You’re looking a little better. Can I get you something?”

“No, right now, I just want to talk to you. After we talk, I want you to go and get us some ice cream and stuff. So we can make milkshakes. Please. Can we do that?”

“Yes, of course we can. Where should we sit? On the couch? We can sit wherever you want.”

Andie put a hand over his eyes, shaking his head. “Ok, Dad, you have to stop acting weird. I’m not made of glass; I’m not going to shatter.”

“Ok. Right. I’ll try. I’ve been…worried.”

“I know, Dad. But I will be ok,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. How to be ok again.”

“Ok.”

“We’ve gotta stop saying ‘ok,’ for one.”

“Ok,” said Oskar, and then winced. Andie laughed. It was rusty, but it was still a laugh. One big first, over and done. First laugh.

“So, as we both know… Jacob Rivera has left town and hasn’t contacted me. You know about the claim now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it before, but I want to be clear that the claim was my choice. It was my mistake. I don’t want any torches and pitchforks getting involved.”

“O-- alright,” said Oskar Dahl, catching himself. Andie could see that this was not, in fact, alright with his father, but that Oskar was going to hold himself back out of concern for Andie’s current condition. He could only imagine what Oskar wanted to do to Jacob Rivera. Andie was kind of happy for himself that he was too sick and pitiful to yell at because Oskar probably wanted to light into him, too. He’d have felt the same way if their roles were reversed. The claim, however, was not what Jak…ob Rivera had done wrong.

“I haven’t decided what I want to do about the claim just yet. I need a little more time.”

“Alright,” said Oskar, with even less convincing calm. "There are options, you know. We can do whatever you want to do. You just have to tell me. You don't have to deal with any of this alone. I will be right next to you the whole time, just like I should have been this whole time."

“You have been right next to me this whole time, Dad. You've been great. I know all the options, like, really know them. I have researched all of it. I just don't know what I want yet. I promise I will tell you when I know. I have made some other decisions, though, and I want to run them by you. First of all, I don’t want to go to school in Austin. I want to go to Vanderbilt. I already emailed admissions to see if it’s too late for me to take the scholarship offer. It’s not. I know it’s still a lot of money. I’ll take out loans for the rest and get a job while I’m there, too.”

“Alright. And I’ll give you as much as I possibly can, too,” Oskar said with apparent calm, but Andie could see how relieved he was.

“Don’t worry about that, dad. I can handle it. I’ll pay the loans back when I get a job, same as everyone else. Next— I don’t really want to, but as long as…he… doesn’t come back, and I don’t think he will, I’m going to finish out my senior year here. It’s barely a month. I can survive a month. I will go to graduation, and if I’m still in line for valedictorian, I will give my speech. It will be short. Then, I want you to get me out of here. Same day, if possible. Can you call Aunt Asta and see if we can spend the summer with her in Missouri? Or if I can?”

“Yes, I can. I’ll come with you and stay for a few weeks, too. I’m sure she’d be happy to have a visit from us.”

Andie looked over Oskar's shoulder and stared fixedly at the wall behind him as he said, “I’m not going to tell anyone where I’m going for now. They can have their fun with the gossip if they still aren’t done with it, and then I want this town to forget all about me. Not you, Dad, of course. I still want to see you all the time.” A lump formed in Andie’s throat, and he swallowed it down. Oskar was staring fixedly at the wall clock, looking like he was having the same difficulties.

“Andie, I don’t think too many people are gossiping about you. I think they all know J— They all know who left town without a word. Everyone is mainly just worried about you, especially the people at school. You’re still going to be valedictorian. Everyone wants to help you get caught up and finish out the semester. I only told the people who absolutely had to know about the withdrawals. The rest just think you’re just having a hard time with the break-up, and they sympathize with you.”

“That’s nice, but it doesn’t matter. I still have to go somewhere else. It's still more humiliation and drama and pity than I want to deal with. I have to move on completely, Dad. I have to feel sure that I’m totally free from all of this, or it’s going to wear me down until there’s nothing left. It might kill me. I have to accept what happened, and then I kind of have to become someone new. I can’t let Jacob Rivera get near me, or I’ll get hurt and sick again. I am afraid I'd make the same mistakes, and fall for him again, and I can't do this twice. Can you understand that?”

“I… can. I am here for you, Andie. Don’t talk about things killing you. This will not kill you. I will do anything to help you. Anything. The claim, school, therapy, medication, moving away, whatever it is you need, I’m here for you.”

“I know, Dad. I love you so much. I still have to go.”

“I get that, Andie. I’m glad you want to go to Vanderbilt. I’ll miss you, but I think that’s a great choice. I’ll come visit as often as I can.”

“Tell them in the Guidance Department that I don’t want Vanderbilt listed in the graduation program--have them put 'undecided.' If Jacob Rivera ever tries to contact me here, tell him nothing about me, ok? Not what I’m doing, not where I am. I want nothing from him, and I want nothing more to do with him. Ever.”

Andie took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. “So… yeah. I can’t be where he can find me, or I won’t feel safe. I know I sound crazy, but… I mean… look at me. I look like a fu— like the undead. Tomorrow, I want you to help me pack up everything in this house that has anything to do with him, and then we can burn it or cram it in the attic or donate it to charity or… I don’t care what. I just don’t want to see it anymore. I need you to help me wash all my clothes and things to get his scent off of them. You might have to do that part for me. I don’t know what happens if I get a major dose of it again, and I can't find a good answer online.”

Oskar nodded somberly. “We’ll get you anything you need. I’ll take care of it all, sweetheart. If he comes around or tries to get in touch, he won’t get a thing from me. You know that, right? Tell me if you change your mind. Unless that happens, nothing.”

“I know I can trust you, Dad. No question.”

“No question.”

“Can you… can you just not even talk about him to me, please? It hurts to hear his name. It hurts to even think it. God, I’m gonna have to get so much therapy. Not until I get out of here, though.” Andie wiped away tears with the back of his hand and took a huge, shuddering breath.

Oskar wrapped his arms around his son and squeezed as hard as he dared, cursing a blue streak in his head over the feel of bones where there used to be a healthy young body. He felt Andie shaking. The tears were starting again. Accordingly, Oskar's rage started roiling again, but when he spoke, he said very neutrally, “I won’t bring him up, I promise.”

“I had a plan, Dad. This wasn’t the plan,” Andie sobbed against Oskar’s chest.

Helplessly, Oskar held his son and rubbed his back, his expression continually shifting from anger to fear to love and back again. “I know, baby. I know. We’re gonna get you a better plan. I’m so sorry about all of this. I should have paid closer attention. I should have protected you better. I just… after your mom died, I kind of withdrew into myself. You’ve always been so sure and steady, and everything felt so settled and clear for you. I think… I forgot you still needed to be watched over. I blame myself for this.”

Oskar squared his shoulders and took a bracing breath before continuing. “But you know what? You’re not even eighteen and I’m not even fifty. It would be weirder if we did have it all figured out and our lives were all settled, right? You’re free now to do and be whatever you want.” He judged it was a good time to change topics. “Speaking of eighteen, Raggedy Andie, your birthday’s in two weeks. We should start by making a plan for that. We could do something totally new. Something you’ve never been able to do before. Skydiving? Smoke cigars until we both puke? Run for local office? Get matching tattoos?”

Andie nodded his head at Oskar’s proposals, but he knew. He knew there was no better plan than a lifetime spent deliriously in love with your perfect match. There were other very good plans, though. Excellent fucking plans. He was going to make one, and he was going to carry it out, and yes, he was going to be pretty fucked up for a long time, but in the end, he was going to be ok. Being ok was the only possible revenge. More than ok– he would be wildly successful and extremely happy and brutally hot. People came through a lot worse than claims and breakups. Andie would, too. He would use this.

“None of this is your fault, Dad. You can’t blame yourself for any of it. I couldn’t stand that. You have always watched out for me and taught me how to watch out for myself, too. I just made a bad call. A mistake. People my age make mistakes, and they learn from them.” Andie laughed darkly. “I'll be learning so much thanks to this. Oh, and yes to the matching tattoos, but I get to pick. Maybe to the skydiving. Hard no to the cigars. They stink.”