“At some point, you could have said, No. I’m not doing this. We’ve finally gone too far. This is wrong. And you didn’t do that, did you?” Shola asks, and she looks at me almost hopefully. Like maybe she thinks it’s possible I did try to stop it and my efforts failed. Shola wishing the best about me.

I cannot lie to my best friend.

“No, I didn’t. I did nothing.”

“I thought so,” she says, and her face crumbles. I want to reach out my hand to touch her, I want to explain myself, and yet, I don’t know how to do that. I consider saying, I aggressively chose not to know, which isn’t the same as knowing, but maybe it is; maybe it’s the same thing after all.

“I’m sorry,” I say, more empty words. Useless nonsense. “For everything.”

“I don’t even want your apology. You know what’s a horrible feeling? Realizing your best friend isn’t the person you thought she was.” Shola’s eyes flash, and my insides tremble. I’ve always suspected a time would come, when her world got bigger and she had access to other, cooler people beyond Wood Valley. When she finally had more choices, no doubt she’d ask herself: Wait, why am I friends with her again? But not so soon, and definitely not like this.

“I’ve lost everything. Please, you have to forgive me. I don’t know who I am—”

Shola pointedly looks around. At the oversized house, the backyard pool, the fact that I’ve poured her a glass of water in a thick crystal goblet. She points to our two refrigerators, one whose sole purpose is to store sparkling water in glass bottles for my mother.

“You’ve lost everything?” she asks incredulously.

“If you’re not my friend anymore, then yeah. I’ve lost everything,” I say, and hold her stare. She must understand that all of this is only stuff. But then I realize I’m the one who doesn’t understand. It’s not about the stuff—those are markers, signals, the million and one ways we let the world know where we stand. They are the flex but they are also the muscle.

After all, my mother was able to hire a literal army of lawyers to protect her.

“I’m not going to SCC, obviously. My mom’s probably going to jail. Levi’s whatever. Other than Isla, all that I have left that I care about is you.”

“Levi’s going to prom with Sophie.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know this and yet of course I did. Levi and Sophie again, confirmed. I let this sink in. It hurts way less than I’d thought it would. A press on a minor bruise. Another recent revelation born out of this whole mess: Levi was a fun distraction, never the real thing.