Jamie has told me exactly nothing of Duck Waterfall. From what I’ve discerned, it has nothing to do with ducks or waterfalls. It sounds like a club they run together? Most of the recap went over my head. She talked about all the members—random gossip and scenes they did together. And then about some other groups with equally random names like Martian Candy and Golden Coattails. Maybe they’re an acting club?

Jamie’s need to know before we switch rundown included her garage code, a layout of her house, and the fact that Dawn lives next door. The more I listen to Dawn, the less I feel like I know about Jamie, and the more insecure I feel about this whole mess I’ve gotten myself into.

Apparently, I have a Duck Waterfall practice at Dawn’s house tomorrow morning at 10:30.

In the past thirty seconds, the conversation has finally taken a welcome turn. Dawn took “my advice” and engaged in a first date extravaganza this past week despite an anatomy test, which she aced anyway. She went on four dates in the last seven days!

“Four dates in seven days?!” I exclaim. “How? What apps were you using? Did they go well? How lo—” I almost ask how long she’s been single, but I stop myself mid-word and feign a coughing fit.

Why would Jamie tell Dawn to go on a bunch of dates? Did Dawn also recently get out of a relationship? Did she get cheated on too?

“She speaks!” Dawn chuckles. “Your extended silence has really been freaking me out. Seriously—absolutely no comment on all my Duck Waterfall gossip? Cynthia is pregnant, Jamie. With Josh’s baby. Did you even know they were seeing each other? Two more of our eight members have slept together now,” she states fiercely.

I hesitate, feeling like she caught me in a fib. “Um, no, I mean that was good stuff … but your dating life is way more exciting?”

Dawn stares at me for a long moment. This really feels like lying. My insides wriggle around uncomfortably.

She clears her throat. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to word this for a few weeks now, Jame. I need you to stop shutting me down and boomeranging the conversation when I try to be your best friend in any emotional capacity. When I’m done with this story, we have to talk about what’s going on with you.” She nervously rubs her hands over her thighs before looking back up at me. “I’m your best friend, and no matter what it is, no matter what’s going on, I love you and I want to help. I’m never going to judge you. I want to be here for you, but if you never open the door, I can’t. And eventually that door is going to come between us and … I don’t want that to happen.”