I wake up quickly and I am already on the bus before my dad is even awake. I know it's pathetic of me to avoid him but I'm not ready for last night's conversation to start up again.

I want to forget it happened but I know I can't.

As I walk into the school I have this horrible feeling that by the time I get home the attic will be empty with not a single morsel of my mom's memory there. She'll be gone and thrown aside as if she meant nothing.

I feel my chest tighten at the thought but continue on anyway, heading inside and towards my locker. When I reach it, I get it open and peer inside, grabbing the books I need. I look up when I feel a presence beside me. I smile.

"Hey, Tally," I say.

"Hey there." She smiles and pulls on the strap of her bag. "You want to come over tonight, just us? It's been a while since we've actually hung out."

I nod, liking the idea immediately of not having to go home to deal with my dad. I push aside the part of me that's calling me weak, telling myself that I'll deal with my dad's problems later.

"Yeah that sounds good," I say.

"Great," Tally grins, "you want to come over at about four?"

"Um, why don't I just catch your bus?" I ask hastily. "It's easier."

"Sounds good," she says as the bell rings for first class. "I'll see you in history."

Tally walks off and I shut my locker before heading for the stairs. I arrive at the drama room for my first class of the day, and dump my bag on the floor behind the stage.

The other students arrive in small groups and take their seats. The second bell rings a last warning. I sigh, crossing my legs and leaning back in the seat, resting my arms on my knees.

The main doors burst open and in comes Miss Joit, wearing a poncho, several lethal-looking bracelets and a smile that is the epitome of insincerity.

"Hello, class." She smiles and clasps her hands together. "It is just so amazing to see you all again for another great day."

She sashays through the circle of chairs, accidentally slapping a boy in the face with the ends of her poncho.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Steven," Miss Joit says, her face curled up in a fake display of regret and worry.

"Um, it's Sam," the boy says.

"Of course it is," Miss Joit murmurs and then suddenly claps, making half the class flinch. "So, welcome to yet another day in the class of dramatic arts. Now I believe yesterday we started going over the end-of-year production. It's quite far away so don't get your panties in a twist as we won't be performing till next semester. But it is something to think about for all you young actors. Now—"

The doors swing open again with a loud squeak, cutting off Miss Joit's speech before closing again with a resounding thump.

"Hello, young man," Miss Joit calls out. "Can I help you?"

I look over along with the rest of the class and my breath gets caught in my throat when I see Tyler standing there, his face impatient.

"I was just transferred from another class," he says.

"Three weeks into the semester?" Miss Joit frowns. Tyler shrugs.

"Call the office if you have to. My last teacher was Mr Carter," he says.

Miss Joit sighs and drops her arms, letting them hang by her sides. "Okay class, talk amongst yourselves quietly as I just go make a call," she says and turns back to Tyler. "Last name?"

"Madden."

Miss Joit picks up the phone. The other students eventually look away from Tyler and start up their own conversations, but a few eyes linger on him. Tyler keeps his bag firmly on his shoulder and gets a chair, dragging it to the side and sitting at the back, in the corner, and away from the circle. He lowers himself down into the seat and I can hear the long breath that he lets out.

"You're meant to join the circle," a boy says, straightening up and reeking of pretentiousness. "That's why we made it."

Tyler doesn't acknowledge him for a moment until he eventually looks over and raises his eyebrows. "Do I look like I give a shit?"

A few people snicker, and the boy clears his throat, cheeks lighting up with a pink tinge. He looks away and after that most people's attention is off Tyler and back to their own little conversations. I take that as my chance and drag my chair over to Tyler's, placing it beside his. He doesn't look up, just sits with his hands linked together, gazing at the red marks on his knuckles.

"What do you want?" he asks with hostility.

"I saw you last night."

Tyler looks up, his face contorted in confusion until he sees me and then recognition goes through him immediately. His expression turns to ice and he turns away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do," I insist. "Last night you went to that bar and—" I look at his cheek and see the dark bruise on his light skin. "—and got your face bashed in, apparently. God, what happened?"

I lift my hand up without realizing it and when my fingers are inches from his dark, painful-looking bruise, he grabs my wrist tightly. I jolt and gulp, freezing up as he turns his head to look at me. "You don't know what you're talking about," he says with finality.

Tyler lets go of my wrist, gets up and moves to the other side of the room as Miss Joit hangs up the phone.

"Okay, Tyler," she says with a tight smile. "Looks like you're a new addition to the class."

***

Tally's leg brushes against mine as we sit on the bus together. The bus slows down with a churning noise at the beginning of the street that leads to her house. When the bus finally comes to a stuttering halt, Tally stands up and throws her bag over her shoulder. I follow, heaving myself from the seat and walking down the small aisle where my legs bash into five different knees accidentally. I say thanks to the bus driver and hop off, landing unsteadily.

"Okay," Tally says as we begin our walk down the street towards her house, "I think we should do a movie fest. One movie right after the other with only a five-minute bathroom break in between."

"Yeah that sounds good," I say, laughing. "I haven't actually just sat and watched a movie in a while."

"What do you want to see?" she asks. "We could attempt the entire series of Harry Potter movies but that would probably keep us up too long and there's school tomorrow. Oh, by the way, are you staying over? I know how your dad is about sleeping over on a school night."

I shrug, biting my lip. "No, it's fine."

Tally raises her eyebrows in surprise. "Okay, cool."

We get to Tally's house, which is large and elegant. The yard out front has perfectly trimmed grass, beautiful rose bushes and perfectly plastered stones forming the small pathway to the front door.

Tally types in the door code on a keypad beside the handle and we enter when it unlocks. I kick off my shoes, placing them off to the side as Tally dumps her bag on the floor. I shut the door behind me and shiver a little from the cold.

Tally grins sheepishly.

"Forgot to put the heat on this morning," she says. "Sorry, I was in a rush."

I shrug. "It's okay. We'll just have to make a huge blanket fort." I smile and throw my arm around her neck, hooking her close to my side.

She lets out a noise of surprise and elbows me in the side, making me stumble away with a laugh. We head through the little hallway and into the kitchen.

Inside, the house is big and spacious and filled with expensive junk that her parents bought on their many trips out of the country. Tally is usually left behind while her parents run off and have fun splashing their money without her.

Right now, her parents are in Greece, enjoying the sun and knocking back drinks. I remind myself to come over a lot more than usual because Tally doesn't like being home alone.

"Want to see if we can get some alcohol from the cupboard? My mom should have left her stash somewhere reachable with a chair," Tally says.

The idea of drinking alcohol after seeing what it's doing to my dad makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. "Um, not for me. I'm okay, really."

"You sure?" she asks, slightly incredulous.

I nod. "Yeah, I'm sure. Not drinking much lately."

Tally's eyes widen comically. "You're not . . . you know . . .?"

"No, dumbass," I mutter, and shove her shoulder playfully. "I'm not pregnant."

"Just checking." Tally grins. "Well, then, I guess we will just have to have loads of ginger ale and coke."

I laugh and nod, helping Tally get the two large liter bottles of pop from the fridge. She gets out two glasses. I carry the bottles to the sitting room and dump them down on the table. The sitting room has no wall cutting it off from the kitchen and it also has no window so the kitchen is lit-up where the sitting room is darker and more reserved.

I lounge back on the couch while Tally looks through her movie collection. There must be at least a hundred movies in that one cabinet alone, and I know there are many more downstairs in the basement.

"What do you want to watch?" she asks.

"Well there's school tomorrow and I don't want to walk around looking like total crap, so probably anything that will finish before one or two?" I ask.

"Sure." Tally nods and then mutters under her breath, "Not like my parents will be back to tell us off anyway."

Tally offers a few comedies and action movies and I pick one of the comedies, grabbing the blanket from behind my head and spreading it over my cold body. Tally sits down on the opposite side of the couch and our legs touch. She grabs half the blanket and wraps it around her feet and legs, making me smile.

We watch movie after movie and eventually cook some sausages and oven fries that we find in the fridge. I check my phone after the third movie. No one has bothered to message or call.

I'm slightly worried. What if something has happened to my dad and he isn't calling because he's hurt? What if he's drunk somewhere and stuck? What if he's standing in the middle of a bar and has lost his phone?

What if he just doesn't care?

My body tenses at that idea and I sigh, putting my phone away. I try focusing on the movie, but I'm still too tense. My face must obviously show it because I feel a hand on my leg over the blanket. I look over and Tally stares at me with concern.

"You okay?" she asks.

I nod but it slowly turns into me shaking my head. I let out a long breath and look away, my hand coming up to wipe my hair from my face. "Not really. I'm okay, I just—" I cut myself off and laugh humorlessly. "I've not had the best week."

I scratch the side of my neck and the blanket feels hot and heavy against me and my body finally registers that it's sweating messily and making me uncomfortable. I move to shove the blanket off my legs when Tally gently lays a hand on top of mine. I look up sharply and Tally suddenly looks nervous, apprehensive.

I frown and lean forward a bit. "Tal? What's wrong?"

Tally opens her mouth shakily but no words come out and when I notice the tears in her eyes, my confusion grows. "Franny, I . . . " she trails off with a crack in her voice. In the next breath, her lips are against mine in such a brief moment that it could have been a mere whisper.

At first I don't understand what's happening but then I start and move away, my back pressing against the arm of the couch. "Tally?" My mouth opens in shock and I lift a hand to my lips, my finger pressing against the area where she kissed me. "What . . .?"

A tear runs down Tally's cheek, followed by another, and another. Her eyes are pained and there's this sadness about her that makes my own eyes well with tears, too. She looks so sad and lost and scared that I can't help it when I reach over and place my hand on her shoulder. "Tally . . . "

She sucks in a harsh breath and wipes her tears weakly. "I'm sorry," she says shakily. "I didn't mean to . . . shit. I shouldn't have done that without saying something. I just . . . I needed to be sure. God, that sounds worse. It doesn't mean that I like you that way, I don't. You just seemed like the only person I could trust with this."

"You're gay," I say.

"Bisexual," Tally corrects me. "Bi-curious . . . or just confused, I don't know."

"Then why are you crying?" I ask.

Tally lets out a humorless laugh. "Maybe because I just kissed my best friend?"

I smile softly and shake my head, bringing the hand on her shoulder around the back of her neck until my arm is over her shoulders. "Tally . . . it isn't something to cry about. You're bi. That's okay. I don't care. I'd never care, you're still you."

"You're not mad that I kissed you?" she asks.

I shake my head. "I mean I'll be honest it wasn't something I expected. And I think I'm right in assuming you don't actually like me and this felt as weird to you as it was to me?" Tally nods and I smile. "Tally, I don't care. Sure, kissing me might not have been your most genius moment. But, if you're worried and stressed over this, know that I'll be here for you. Promise."

Tally laughs a little, the sound a breathy noise but it makes me smile and laugh lightly as well. Slowly though, her smile falls and she stares at the television screen, which shines flashing lights all across her tear-streaked face.

"Everyone's going to think I'm fucked up," she says. "My parents . . . "

I tighten my arm around her shoulder, pressing our sides together and bringing the blanket over the top of us. "We're all a little fucked up. Somewhere inside. But this part of you will never be the reason for that. Okay?"

Tally doesn't say anything and neither of us needs to in that moment. We just sit there and watch the movie, letting the silence of the house be filled up with the noise and Tally's tears be washed away by her laughter.

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(French edition of my book ASK AMY is available in bookstores in France and online retailers outside France)