Kind of a Moment I had a plan. For the plan to work, I had to talk to Coy. Alone. The thought of talking to Coy made me a little sick. Every time we’d spoken, he ran me down. He made fun of me. He tore at me. I hated the idea of being alone with him. But it had to happen. I had a plan. Coy and I had only two classes together, but I knew he always went to the bathroom during sixth period to get high. I had journalism. Halfway through, I went out to the hall. The hall was empty. Voices echoed from the hard, blue walls, some of them whispered from the classrooms, teachers lecturing or arguing with students. Some of the voices echoed only in my head. Coy used the bathroom on the second floor in the Science Wing. I waited for him outside the bathroom. I hid behind some lockers and waited and then he came. We were the only ones here. I watched him slip silently into the john and waited for a minute. I waited because I wasn’t sure the plan would work. I waited because I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. I waited, because this was scary. When I got the guts to go in, I went in hard. I slammed the door open hard enough for the sound of it to ricochet from the tiles. Coy sat in a stall. The skunky smell of weed hung like a stain in the air. “We need to talk,” I said. Coy peeked out. “You and me,” I said. His face folded a little, his lips frowning. Small lines crinkled the skin between his brows. “What the hell?” “I need your help,” I said. He banged the stall door closed.
“You’re not a guy,” he said. “No matter what you think.” I almost walked out. Asking Coy for anything, much less help, was not something I wanted to do, but there was no one else to ask. “I need you to kill me,” I said. “What?” “I’m pregnant.” A moment of silence but then he started laughing. “I thought you…dykes don’t get pregnant.” “I need you to kill me,” I said. “You’re crazy.” “Will you do it?” “Why not just do it yourself?” “I can’t.” He thought for a moment. He thought for a moment and then he came out and leaned on one of the sinks. His face was too narrow and too pale, and I could see everything going on in his head. “You fucked a guy?” he asked. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “You fucked a guy,” he said, “and now you want me to kill you.” “Go to hell.” I turned to go. “I could take you to the doctor,” he said. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. “My mom had an abortion last year,” he said. “Your mom?” “I know this place…” “No.” For a second, he became human. For a second, he stopped being the slimy little shit he was. “I can’t kill you,” he said.