Beautiful Burn: A Novel

Love made people hate in a way they never would have before.

Todd’s nose wrinkled. “What does that even mean? Speak English!”

“Starting over can be a bit depressing,” he said. “No one tells you that. You think you’re supposed to instantly feel better, and not knowing why you don’t can be bloody rough.”

Get a job? I have a degree in ceramics. Where in the fuck am I going to get a job in Estes Park?

“Oh my God, Sally. You’re right. I’m cured.”

“Fun Ellie is dead. All that’s left is broke-and-alone Ellie,” I teased.

Tyler stopped. “She’s not dead. Just transitioning. Like a butterfly.”

“That’s deep, Maddox.”

Life was a collection of stories, and I couldn’t let her judge me for a few chapters.

“I can’t do this,” I cried. “I have no idea how to do this. They’re just throwing me to the wolves.”

Maricela rubbed my arms. “That’s how I learned to swim, muñequita. Sometimes we have to be thrown in, or we’ll never do it on our own.”

“I messed up,” I said, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “I hurt Finley.” I looked up, my bottom lip quivering. “She doesn’t even know it yet. All I can think about is getting high to make it go away.”

Maricela touched my cheek. “It won’t go away unless you face it. Admit to your mistakes, and then make amends.”

We were friends because less than one percent of the world’s population could identify with the sorrow of having too much money and too many opportunities—with the boredom of total freedom of monetary limitations.

To have everything and feel nothing was the worst kind of selfishness.