“You did good, Greg!” I say, laughing and pulling him by the arm off his own forehead’s reflection.

“I failed us. . . .”

“Dude! You got us all the way here. To the finals! That’s not failing. We lost to a better team. Whatever. We still crushed like eight of them along the way! Trinity will be our bitch until the next presidential administration. Plus, I look better in silver than gold, so this trophy fits my esthetics.”

He stares at me suspiciously and then looks over to Yadira, who nods her agreement with everything I’ve just said.

“You didn’t drink the juice, did you?” he finally says.

“Not even a sip!” I grin. “Neither did Yadira.”

“You’re a narc, Haltiwanger.”

Now that the debate is over, all that’s left between us, I realize, are the loose strands of this weird friendship we’ve built alongside all the competitions, elocution exercises, and mental gymnastics we’ve been throwing at one another for months.

“Oh, my God!” Yadira exclaims to someone at the door that I can’t see in the low light. “There’s no way you have the room booked.”

Corinne steps forward, and my heart skips a beat.

“I’m just looking for Halti,” Corinne answers, purse in hand and her hair natural up in a bun. She’s wearing wooden earrings that I would bet came from Auntie Terry.

She looks beautiful.

I find my foot stepping toward her in spite of itself, and our eyes meet. I hate that I can see her neck visibly tighten at my very sight.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hi.”

Thirty-Three

“Um, hi.”

“Can we talk?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” I manage to croak out.

Corinne and I are both very good at talking. We used to chat for hours, and I would sometimes catch someone eavesdropping on us in the subway, with a little smile because that’s the energy our banter gave off. That’s how connected we were.

I don’t know if it’ll ever be like that again, and it’s a gut punch.

We look for another unlocked classroom but eventually settle for the interior quad. I might not know too much about the ABCs of relationships but am fairly certain that heart-to-hearts should not happen with a fascinated Greg rephrasing your lines under his breath and Yadira smirking in delight.

“What are you doing here?” I say as soon as we step into the quad and sit next to each other on a stone bench. “I mean, I’m surprised. But I’m glad you’re here,” I add hastily.

“Oh?” she says. “Okay. Well, good. That’s very good. You did well up there, by the way.”

“They were better.”

“They were better.” She smiles.

God, I missed her.