I wasn’t with Liz long, just in high school. We weren’t even really together, we just made out. I preferred making out with her in the school hallway, or in the prop room that had all the theatre costumes. That was a scary room, but Liz’s house was scarier. If you know that someone killed someone, and they go to jail for it, and you’re the reason they got caught, that’s a bad thing. I was pretty sure Rafael had killed that girl; you could see it on his face.
When you’re a kid your ideas of things are lampooned. Your idea of a kiss, before you do it; your idea of sex, before you do it; your idea of death, before it happens to someone you know. Even your idea of murder. When you’re a kid, it’s like: oh my god how could someone do that? Then you grow up, and you’re like: yeah, if someone raped my daughter I can see running them over with the car. You understand rage. You understand accident. You understand that some people are just fucked up, and have been since birth, and will never be ok, no matter what schools they go to or medication they take.
In high school, I just didn’t want Rafael to see me at Liz’s house, because if he told Liz, and he saw me with Liz, and he ended up going to jail, when he got out he might come looking for me. It was worth making out with Liz in the prop room.