All the Bright Places

Meet me at
the Quarry
.
Me: 
I can’t.
Finch: 
Don’t keep me waiting. On second thought, I’ll meet you at your
house.
Me: 
I can’t.
No answer.
Me: 
Finch?
75

---

FINCH
Day 13
I throw rocks at her window but she doesn’t come down. I think about ringing
the doorbell, but that would only wake the parents. I try waiting her out, but
the curtain doesn’t move, and the door doesn’t open, and it is really fucking
cold, so finally I climb into Little Bastard and go home.
I’m up the rest of the night making a list called “How to Stay Awake.”
There’s the obvious—Red Bull, caffeine, NoDoz and other drugs—but this
isn’t about skipping a couple hours’ sleep, it’s about staying up and staying
here for the long haul.
1. Run.
2. Write (this includes any thoughts I don’t want to have—write
them out fast so they’re out of me and on the paper).
3. Along those lines, accept any and all thoughts (don’t be afraid of
them no matter what they are).
4. Surround myself with water.
5. Plan.
6. Drive anywhere and everywhere, even when there’s nowhere to
go. (Note: There’s always somewhere to go.)
7. Play guitar.
8. Organize room, notes, thoughts. (This is different from
planning.)
9. Do whatever it takes to remind myself that I’m still here and
have a say.
10. Violet.
76

---

VIOLET
147–146 days till freedom
The next morning. My house. I walk out the door to find Finch lying on the
front lawn, eyes closed, black boots crossed at the ankle. His bike rests on its
side, half in and half off the street.
I kick the sole of his shoe. “Were you out here all night?”
He opens his eyes. “So you did know I was here. Hard to tell when a
person’s being ignored while standing, I may add, in the freezing arctic cold.”
He pulls himself to his feet, shoulders his backpack, picks up his bike. “Any
more nightmares?”
“No.”
While I get Leroy from the garage, Finch rides up and down the driveway.
“So where are we headed?”
“School.”
“I mean tomorrow when we wander. Unless you’ve got big plans.”
He says this as if he knows I don’t. I think about Ryan and the drive-in. I
still haven’t told him yes or no. “I’m not sure I’m free tomorrow.” We push
off toward school, Finch sprinting forward, doubling back, sprinting forward,
doubling back.
The ride is almost peaceful, until he says, “I was thinking that, as your