You'll Miss Me When I'm Gone

He turns my face to him and skims my jaw with his thumb. “It’s not annoying. I feel bad that you’re so anxious about it all.”

None of the cities or states of schools we got into overlap. That night in the tent, he was so hopeful we’d end up near each other next year, but now we don’t talk about it. I like him too much to imagine losing him to distance. So when he asks me to come over later, I tell him yes, and I slide my foot up his leg until he blushes.

When the last bell rings, we walk outside with our hands linked. It’s amazing how natural it feels now.

“Hey,” Zack says as the school doors swing shut behind us, his voice incredulous. “It’s snowing.”

I blink at the flurries of white. A thin layer has begun to coat the grass. Everyone’s staring up at the sky, laughing and running around. Surprise snow in Seattle turns high schoolers into children. I hold out my hand to catch a snowflake, but it disappears as soon as it touches my skin. Snow in April: another strange mystery in my strange universe.

Climate change deniers, come at me. Let my entire city prove you wrong. Maybe we’ll get enough snow to bury me and put me out of my misery.

Twenty-nine

Adina

IF AN ANIMAL IS SUFFERING, we put it out of its misery. Years ago the Mizrahis had an ancient, blind cat named Methuselah who developed a goiter on his chin. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t eat. He was in so much pain, I ached to look at him when we went over to their house. Tamar was devastated when they decided to put Methuselah to sleep, but it was the humane thing to do. How could they have let him go on like that?

I am not an ailing cat, and neither is my mother. But the other day when I was researching Huntington’s, I learned that I am not the first person with the kind of plan I’ve been devising. Others have executed it successfully, and it even has a name: death with dignity.

Sufferers of terminal illnesses who are judged mentally competent can request lethal medication. It’s legal in only a handful of states, and Washington is one of them. The catch is that you have to have six months or fewer left to live, and when I read that I wanted to scream. That timeline might not work for me. I searched some more and found there are some doctors who will obtain the medication for patients who have more than six months. Illegal, perhaps, but not wrong. There are even some younger people who have chosen this ending for themselves.

I wasn’t going to think about the details this year, but this is perfect. I can spare myself and my family the gore of a violent death. They’d know there had been a good, peaceful ending for me, and they’d look back with fondness on the time we had together. They’d understand.

Except, perhaps, for Tovah.

My revenge has been more perfect than I could have imagined, though perhaps I felt a bitter twist of guilt when I told Tovah about Peabody and saw the stricken look on her face. I could have easily chosen any of the other conservatories, but I stole Baltimore from my sister because I knew it would hurt her the most.

It doesn’t matter how she feels now, though. All that matters is the future, however near or distant it may be. Now that I have Arjun back and know for certain where I am going next year, I can truly savor the time I have left.

Ima calls me into her bedroom after sundown. I should start counting how many more Shabbatot I have to observe before I leave for school. “Adina’le? I need some help.”

She’s sitting at the foot of her bed, still in her nightgown though it is eight o’clock in the evening. Her clothes are on the bed next to her.

“Do you mind?” she asks, and my heart climbs into my throat, gets stuck there.

I help shimmy off the nightgown. She isn’t wearing a bra underneath. Her body is painted with freckles and wrinkles and stretch marks, physical proof Tovah and I came from her. There’s the scar from her C-section, which is proof of only me. Her stomach is concave, but her breasts sag. My breasts will never sag like that. She has no shame in me seeing her like this, doesn’t make any move to cover herself up.

My relief brings another feeling: sympathy.

“That one first.” She nods toward the bra with the satin cups. I hook it around her back and help her get the straps up her arms. “Todah,” she thanks me after we’ve finished with the soft pants and plain long-sleeved shirt too. It’s a little easier to meet he

r eyes these days, knowing that I am never going to become like her.

“Bevakasha,” I say.

For a moment I consider telling her about death with dignity. I am not sure it is an option she would ever consider for herself. Religion complicates it, of course, but she might agree it is the best option for me. Another look at her and I know I can’t tell her. It wouldn’t bring her peace, only more anguish, and she has enough of that.

Ima strokes my hair, and I lean into her touch. When I was little, she told me to brush my hair one hundred times before I went to bed if I wanted it to always be soft and silky. I never skimped, not even once. Ima’s hair, which is the rich golden mahogany of a viola, was always so smooth, and I wanted mine to be just like hers. Today, though, her hair is coarse and ribboned with gray and some white. She refuses to dye it.

Ima’s hand drifts to the evil eyes on my wrist. “Where did you get that bracelet?”

Everyone said the snow wouldn’t stick, but it’s snowed hard the past several nights and school is closed and my entire world is frosted. Arjun got his spring blizzard.

I lace my boots over two pairs of tights and toss an Ima-made scarf around my neck. Nothing smells nearly as fresh as the morning after a snow. I can’t wait to take a big gulp of the air outside, feel ice crystals form in my lungs.

Today I will tell Arjun I love him, and he will say it back.

I’ve never felt quite this way before. My heart is floating away and I can’t tether it back to my chest. I find the words hovering on the tip of my tongue, like they could slip out at any moment, delicate as snowflakes, for strangers to hear. “Love” is the only word for how I feel about Arjun. When he laughs, I want to make him laugh again. When our bodies come together, my skin sings. And when I told him my plan, he got it.