“I think that’s what they are,” I explain. “But they’re really fragmented, and they don’t make any sense. Kind of like a bunch of random puzzle pieces that might not even go together.”

“What do you mean?”

I purse my lips, unsure of how much I want to reveal. “For example, today in your car. When you accidentally went forward, I saw these images of broken glass and blood. I think I’m seeing tiny moments of what happened that night.”

Zoe watches my face intently, looking somber. “Spooky.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all you can see?”

“Mostly. But I did have a weird dream the other night.”

“Oh?” she asks, looking intrigued.

“I saw this little boy at a playground.” I pause, certain that I probably sound insane. “I don’t know why, but I’m pretty sure it was Mason. They had the same eyes.”

Zoe stops again, pausing in her search, and looking at me as though I’ve grown another head, the atmosphere rapidly changing. “Mason Byrne? Why the hell were you dreaming about him?”

“I don’t know!” I protest, my cheeks flaming at her instant judgment.

“Mason Byrne,” she repeats, shaking her head, amused. “Now that’s the bottom of the barrel.”

“What makes you say that?”

She gives me another look. “Allie, have you ever even seen him talk to anyone? He’s just some weird social pariah who lurks in the hallways. It’s creepy.”

I feel strangely defensive, and let go of the clothes, crossing my arms over my chest. I’ve noticed that he keeps to himself, and he certainly hasn’t said anything to me since my first day back, despite us sitting right next to each other, but that doesn’t mean anything is wrong with him. “Right now, I’m the exact same thing.”

“That’s completely different,” she remarks, waving a hand. “You went through something traumatic.”

“Maybe Mason did too.”

“Allie, this”—Zoe holds her hand up high—“is where we are. Mason is all the way down here.” She brings her hand to a spot just inches above the ground.

“Why?”

“We’ve worked hard to get where we are,” she explains. “I’ve made my way to the top of every class I’m in by any means necessary, you’re the most talented actress in the school, Damien is captain of the soccer team, and James is, well, he’s got charm. And he’s Damien’s right-hand man.”

I can’t suppress my scoff as I focus on the racks again. “That all sounds very superficial.”

“That’s high school. We have the talent and the connections and the money, so people like us rise to the top.”

“And people like Mason end up at the bottom. That’s what you’re trying to say.”