Free Second Glance by Jodi Picoult

for someplace to stop breathing?”
    Ross held her gaze for a minute. “Shel. It was only that once, just after she died.”
    Shelby’s hands came up to Ross’s wrists, pulled them down between them. Her thumbs edged up the sleeves of his sweater, traced the history there. “ Once . I go to ask you if you want soup for lunch, soup , Ross, and you’re bleeding out.”
    “You should have let me,” Ross said, gently breaking away.
    “Fuck you.” Tears glittered in Shelby’s eyes. “When you close the bathroom door now, I wonder if you’re taking pills. When you go out driving, I wonder if you’re wrapped around a tree. Did it ever occur to you that you’re not the only person who’s ever lost someone? Aimee died. People die. You’re alive, and you have to start acting like it.”
    His gaze was glacial. “Will you feel that way in a few years, when it’s Ethan?”
    A small sound made them turn toward the doorway, but by then the boy who had heard every word had run off.
    He was wearing a sweatshirt and long pants, and of course a baseball hat, but his face and his hands were uncovered. By the time Ethan reached the quarry—the highest spot in town, with cliffs that pierced the sky—his fingers were swollen like sausages, and so red they ached with every heartbeat.
    Maybe a truck would hit him on the way. Maybe he would burn to a crisp, go up in flames like the pictures of that guy he saw in the Guinness Book of World Records . If he died now, what difference would it make?
    What he knew of the town of Comtosook he had learned from maps, from the Internet. Certainly, he’d been out before—but things looked different in the daylight. He could not tear his eyes away from streets that were full of cars, from the sheer number of people on the sidewalks. He could not know that normally, this town was twice as crowded—by comparison, to Ethan, this sunny world was so busy it took his breath away.
    Ethan knew he was going to die. He’d been to psychologists and doctors and social workers to help him come to terms with the prognosis of an XP patient. He might make it to fifty, but there was every chance he’d only live until fifteen. It all depended on how much damage had been done to his cells before he was diagnosed.
    The way he figured it, this was one of the few things he could point to that made him just like anyone else. At some point or another, all people were going to kick the bucket. The difference was, if he wanted that day to come later rather than sooner, he wasn’t really allowed to live .
    It was only a few more blocks to the quarry; Ethan could tell because the cliffs were looming larger and larger. He did not know what he would do when he got there. Take off his shirt, maybe, until the pain got so bad he passed out. Lie on his back and stare up at the sun until his corneas burned.
    He turned into the entrance of the quarry and stopped abruptly. Leaning against the hood of his battered car, arms crossed, was his Uncle Ross. “How did you find me?”
    “Find you ? I was here first.” Ross took a look at Ethan’s sunburned fingers and face but didn’t comment, only handed Ethan one of his own shirts to put on, the sleeves falling down over his hands to protect them from the ultraviolet light. Then he squinted up at the sky. “I figured a kid who had a bone to pick with the sun would try to get right in its face. This is the highest place in town.” He turned to Ethan. “Your mother is frantic.”
    “Where is she?”
    “At home. In case you showed up there, first.” Standing, he opened the passenger door. “Can we finish this conversation inside?”
    After a moment, Ethan nodded. He ducked into the car, pulled off his baseball cap, and scrubbed at his scalp. “Is it true, about you trying to kill yourself?”
    “Yeah.”
    Ethan felt his throat narrow. His uncle—well, he was one of the only males Ethan had any contact with, and he was certainly the coolest one. He’d done totally