“I must have thought about it once or twice, I guess…” Alexa’s dark eyes were fixed on a point in space, and her voice was sad. “You’re lucky. You don’t have that problem.”
I swallowed. “Well, actually, I have thought about it,” I said quietly. “I don’t mean to. It just sort of slips in, but I don’t think of it as an option.”
“Mm,” she replied. “That’s good. It shouldn’t be an option… I mean, people care about you.”
“People care about you, too, you know.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nobody really does. I’m too negative.”
“Don’t be silly. Everyone cares about you,” I said, flicking her in the arm.
“Not everyone.”
“Fine, most people.”
She shook her head, but didn’t answer me.
All around us, kids were shouting and laughing and finishing up homework. Alexa and I sat alone, quiet, lost in our thoughts

((This is just a tiny snippet of dialog. I based it on a real conversation… I think it illustrates how, um, unusual my friends and I are. If you didn’t realize, we’re talking about suicide.))