I shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe we could just drive for a bit?”

She nodded. We steered through the streets at an easy pace, both of us silent for a while.

I had so many questions I wanted to ask her, and even though I hated it when people asked me about personal stuff, part of me hated holding it all inside, too. And I was so tired of all Kat’s bullshit. I thought Shanti must’ve been as well, so I forced myself to try.

“You okay?” I asked.

She stared out the front windshield for a few moments, then cleared her throat. “I just wish she wasn’t always so disappointed in me.” Her jaw tightened as she swallowed. I could tell she was holding back tears.

“Why is she? I mean—you’re amazing.” As I heard myself say this, my face got hot. “I mean, you—you’re not disappointing. You’re nice.” Ugh. “Why’s she so hard on you?” My words came out in a rush.

She lifted her hand to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. “She wants me to be stronger, so I won’t get hurt.”

That made sense to me, in principle. “But why’s she such a jerk about it?”

“Because to her, ‘stronger’ means tough. Hard. It means aggression and fearlessness. And fists.” She seemed to get lost for a moment, then added, “I’m not like that. As you know.”

She glanced at me when she said this last part, and I instantly felt a bit guilty. I’d been expecting the same things from her as Kat did, I realized. I hadn’t said it in the same way, but I’d shown it in others.

“I don’t think being tough is the only way to deal with hurt,” Shanti continued. “But my way can also open you up to hurt, I guess. Kat doesn’t want to risk that. And she’s mad that I’ve chosen to risk it. And scared, I think.”

Kat, scared? It was hard for me to believe that, although I could understand why someone would be scared of being hurt. I understood that more than I was willing to admit.

“Is that what she meant when she said opening yourself up just fucks you over?” Saying the word “fuck” in this car, here, now, with Shanti, made me flinch a little, which was weird, since I said it all the time.

Shanti nodded ever so slightly. “Yeah. She’s definitely been hurt by people she’s cared about. Including me.”

This was another thing I found hard to picture. “You?”

“Yup.”

“I can’t believe that’s true.”

She glanced over at me again, then back at the road. “It’s true,” she said, and leaned on the gas a little more.

Watching Shanti’s side profile, I could tell she was thinking something through—the way she blinked and chewed on her lower lip.