“You don’t have your loved ones anymore, but here—in this space—you have each other.”

Ms. Carver’s words establish the grief group’s core purpose: to create a new community for those who have lost family. This line directly introduces the theme of Finding Community After Loss, underscoring the value of the group as an essential, alternative support system. The line break after “anymore” reinforces the loss that has occurred in the children’s lives, while the word “but” shifts the focus to what remains available to them despite what they’ve been through.

“And that makes us different. It’s different when you have no warning.”

As Sage listens to the other members of the group, she begins dividing them into those who experienced sudden loss and those who had time to say goodbye. The blunt diction reflects Sage’s rigid thinking at this stage of the novel, highlighting her feeling of isolation even among others who are grieving. This passage therefore establishes a conflict that later becomes central to finding community after loss, as Sage must learn that experiences can be different without being incomparable.

“my best friend died

and it’s all my fault.”

After withholding the source of her guilt from the people around her, Sage finally states the belief that dominates her private thoughts. Watson divides the confession across two short lines, separating the fact of Angel’s death from Sage’s interpretation of responsibility. The plain diction and absence of explanation make the accusation sound absolute, reflecting the internal conflict that Sage faces and introducing the theme of Coping With Survivor’s Guilt.

“nothing can be as hard as talking about someone you love

in past tense.”

After remembering Angel’s ambitions for the future, Sage confronts the difficulty of speaking about a person whose future no longer exists. The language turns a grammatical term, “past tense,” into an expression of grief, making an ordinary feature of language carry emotional weight. This idea captures one of Sage’s internal conflicts: Her relationship with Angel still feels emotionally present even though Angel herself is gone.

“You will miss her every day of your life.

Sometimes, the memories will bring tears, sometimes a smile.

The memories won’t always overwhelm you,

they will bring comfort too.”

Aunt Ini offers a realistic and comforting perspective on grief, contrasting with the typical platitudes surrounding grief. Her honesty validates Sage’s lasting sense of loss, depicting it as a permanent part of life that will evolve to bring comfort alongside sadness and change over time. Aunt Ini’s prediction develops the theme of the nonlinear nature of grief by articulating the journey Sage will undergo: She will learn to recognize that continued sorrow does not prevent comfort or happiness from eventually existing alongside it.

“But isn’t that a beautiful thing?

To have experienced the kind of love that never truly leaves,

that only grows and grows?”

Continuing her conversation with Sage, Aunt Ini forces Sage to reconsider the lasting pain of grief using a rhetorical question rather than directly telling Sage how she should feel. The question invites Sage—and the reader—to reconsider whether continuing to miss someone must be understood only as suffering. This passage develops the theme of the nonlinear nature of grief by arguing that grief can change because the love underlying it continues rather than disappears.

“and every day she got up

and every day she got up.”

After learning that Aunt Ini has continued to miss her sister for 40 years, Sage considers everything her aunt has experienced during those decades. The list of ordinary life events ends with this repeated line, reducing resilience to a simple daily action rather than a dramatic triumph over grief. Aunt Ini’s example gives Sage a new perspective about the nonlinear nature of grief. Grief is part of everyday life; Sage is now learning how to continue living with it.

“Memories, sometimes a tornado that touches down

with no warning, overwhelming and destructive.”

This metaphor vividly captures the unpredictable and violent nature of traumatic grief. By likening memories to a tornado, the text illustrates how recollections can be sudden, disorienting, and destructive, destroying any sense of peace Sage might feel. This imagery conveys her internal emotional chaos and the lack of control she feels when confronted by painful thoughts.

“I want the days to slow down.

The more time passes, the more memories I make

without her.”

The parallel construction of “the more…the more” in this short poem emphasizes Sage’s desperation to halt time’s relentless progression. No matter what she does, time will continue, and she will make memories that may even replace her old ones. The short, simple stanza of “without her” and the italicized word emphasize Sage’s internal conflict about coping with survivor’s guilt. Sage feels guilty about continuing to live after Angel has died, feeling as though new memories threaten Sage’s ability to remember her.

“I won’t say anything about how angry I was

for a moment, just a moment

once I realized that for the rest of my life

my birthday would never be about my birth

but about her death.”

While listing the thoughts she considers better left unsaid, Sage admits that part of her resents having Angel’s death permanently attached to her birthday. Watson uses repetition in “for a moment, just a moment” to show how Sage has minimized a feeling she considers selfish or inappropriate. This repetition reveals her internal struggle to suppress emotions she deems inappropriate, showing the complex and often contradictory feelings that accompany grief, a central aspect of the nonlinear nature of grief.

“Surrounded by a shield of comfort from Dad and Ebony

and Aunt Ini, I just walk, just keep going.

My hands in their hands.

Their strength, my strength.”

As Sage finally walks past the intersection where Angel was killed, she relies on her father, Ebony, and Aunt Ini to help her confront a place she has been avoiding. The metaphor of a “shield of comfort” illustrates how the physical presence of Sage’s support system protects her from the trauma of revisiting the accident site. This key moment emphasizes the importance of finding community after loss, as it is a physical act of strength that reflects the emotional strength that Sage will need to draw from her friends and family to cope with Angel’s death.

“There are people—like transversal lines—that cross

paths with you, only for a moment. In that short moment, you

connect, have something in common, but still, you have your

own unique experience.”

During a geometry lesson, Mr. Dixon extends the mathematical definition of transversal lines into an analogy about human relationships. Watson uses this connection to connect Sage’s preference for logical, understandable mathematics with the much less predictable relationships forming around her. The repeated language of crossing and connection introduces transversal and parallel lines as symbols before Sage fully understands their relevance to the grief group. In this way, this moment foreshadows Sage’s later understanding of finding community after loss, when she recognizes that shared grief can connect people (such as Sage herself to Zay and Ana) even when their experiences are not exactly the same.

“But what if there was no pain?

What if your best friend died

and that’s when the pain started?

What brings relief from grief?”

Through a series of rhetorical questions, Sage articulates the unique pain of sudden, tragic loss. Her questioning directly challenges Ms. Carver’s idea that grief can bring relief, distinguishing her experience from those whose loved ones suffered from illness. The repetition of “What if” gives the questions an insistent quality, while the final question shifts from the pain of the person who died to the pain of the survivor. This distinction helps explain Sage’s resentment toward Ana and Zay, but the unanswered question speaks to the nonlinear nature of grief: Sage is still searching for a single form of relief when the novel will ultimately ask her to accept grief as something that changes rather than simply ends.

“I was afraid of either of us making new friends.

I was afraid of losing us, of losing her.

But I lost her anyway.”

While finally explaining the circumstances leading up to Angel’s death, Sage admits that jealousy and fear motivated her behavior on their last day together. This confession reveals her insecurity, which forms the core of her survivor’s guilt. The stark, simple sentence, “But I lost her anyway,” creates a moment of tragic irony, showing the futility of her attempt to control the friendship. This raw admission is an important step in her healing process.

“Maybe being both at the same time

is what keeps me from being overwhelmed.

Too much salty,

too much sweet

ain’t good for nobody.”

Using the taste of “salty and sweet” snacks as a metaphor, Sage has a realization about her emotional state. This moment is a significant shift in her understanding of grief, as she moves from seeing her feelings as contradictory to accepting their coexistence. The metaphor highlights the nonlinear nature of grief by showing Sage beginning to accept emotional balance: Sadness does not need to disappear for happiness to exist, and neither feeling has to dominate her completely.

“Grief is like hunger. Just because you eat today

doesn’t mean you won’t need to eat tomorrow.”

While Sage complains that the grief group has not provided the answers she wanted, DD jokingly imitates the kind of advice Ms. Carver might give and unexpectedly produces an insightful simile of her own. Comparing grief to hunger makes an abstract emotional experience concrete and familiar, as satisfying hunger once does not prevent it from returning, just as feeling temporarily better does not mean grief has ended. The idea that grief must be continually tended to is a core tenet of the novel’s exploration of the nonlinear nature of grief.

“It’s not that there are no explanations of what

makes a plane fly, it’s that the explanation is incomplete.”

During Fly Girl, Ms. Barbara explains that scientists can describe the forces involved in flight without having a completely settled explanation for every aspect of how life works. Ironically, Sage is initially drawn to mathematics and aviation because she expects them to provide definite answers, yet even flight contains unresolved questions. Instead, the idea of an “incomplete explanation” connects directly with Sage’s struggle to find reasons for her friend’s senseless death.

“Maybe, just maybe,

blue, not red, is the color of love

with all its mood and passion and emotion.”

After considering the many different experiences she associates with shades of blue, Sage questions the conventional association between red and love. Rather than declaring a less she has completely mastered, Sage tests a new understanding of love against her own experience, an idea that is emphasized by the repetition of “maybe.” The passage connects the motif of shades of blue to the nonlinear grieving process by emphasizing the variety of emotions that exist within grief simultaneously.

“Just because everybody’s pain looks different

don’t mean it hurts less.”

After Sage describes her conflict with Ana and Zay, Aunt Ini challenges the comparisons she has been making among different forms of grief. She expresses her advice as an aphorism, or simple statement of truth, to contrast “looks” and “hurts,” distinguishing outward circumstances from internal experience. Her advice advances the theme of finding community after loss by helping Sage understand that empathy does not require another person’s suffering to resemble her own.

“Sadness and happiness can

(and should?) exist at the same time.”

This concise, poetic verse captures a key epiphany for Sage, directly articulating the theme of the nonlinear nature of grief. The parenthetical question (“and should?”) highlights her evolving perspective as she moves from questioning to accepting the coexistence of conflicting emotions. This moment, spurred by her first kiss, is a significant step in her healing.

“You are a SUNRISE. You bring hope and beauty to every

new day and always—no matter how dark the sky the night

before—you rise.”

In the birthday letter Angel wrote before her death, she compares Sage to a sunrise while listing the qualities she loves about her. The extended metaphor contrasts darkness with the recurring arrival of light, while the capitalization of “SUNRISE” visually emphasizes Angel’s description of Sage. The image allows readers to see Sage through Angel’s perspective rather than through Sage’s guilt. Sage has spent much of the novel remembering herself as selfish, jealous, and partly responsible for Angel’s death; Angel instead remembers someone who brings “hope and beauty” and continues to rise after darkness.

“A confirmation that she knew she was loved.

She knew, she knew.”

After discovering her best friend’s keepsake box, Sage finds irrefutable proof of their mutual love, assuaging her survivor’s guilt. The repetition of “she knew” becomes a mantra that cements the certainty of their bond. This realization allows Sage to shift from questioning the past to accepting the love that was always present, and her survivor’s guilt eases upon realizing she doesn’t need a final goodbye to prove that Angel understood how much she was loved.

“And it brought us together, made us relate to each other.

Similar, not the same. Connected forever.”

After another geometry lesson, Sage finally applies the idea of transversal and parallel lines directly to the grief group. Death has intersected the girls’ separate lives, creating a connection without making their experiences identical. The clarification of the difference between “similar” and “same” is especially important because it corrects Sage’s earlier assumption that meaningful empathy depends on experiencing the same kind of loss. The passage marks an important development in her understanding of community: Sage can now recognize the difference without using it as a reason for separation.