I’m still stuck on “I’m your friend, not hers,” and how I needed to hear it so badly that I can feel tears pricking my eyes and I have to excuse myself to go to the bathroom so I can breathe my way out of crying in front of Sabrina. But then I think of not just Claire and Craig and Sierra but how I’ll probably lose Salem to his girlfriend, and Heather will eventually turn on me, and I turn on the sink to allow myself one little self-pitying round of sniffles.

And then I stop. Because I’ve made friends. And I have to hold on to them, no matter what it takes.

But maybe that also means letting go a little, too. And so even though I know it’s only symbolic, that I won’t be reaching out and neither will she, as soon as I exit the bathroom, I make a beeline for my phone and unblock Claire while Sabrina watches approvingly over my shoulder.

I don’t know that I feel any lighter. I don’t know if she’ll even notice, considering I haven’t posted anything since emptying out my account to purge my entire Greentree life. But it feels like acknowledging that I’m a little less afraid of something than I was when I got here, and I’ll take any little hint of badass I can get.

Friday afternoon it’s time to put the focus back on Salem and his self-improvement, so I drag him along with me to community service, and Matt finds the idea so amusing he tags along for the ride. In fact, the van taking us to Pinebrook Forest to do cleanup is completely full—so full that Matt just has to squeeze in with Priya, and Ashleigh just has to sit on Landon’s lap.

I take my time picking my seat in the van, waiting to see if Salem and Jenna will find some clever way to end up together, but when she slides in next to Izzy and Salem loudly informs me that you can’t get pregnant just from sharing a seat with a boy, I bump my ass in next to his. Hard.

Despite the fact that they don’t interact once the entire ride, I can’t stop looking for signs of the thing between Salem and Jenna. How are they playing it this cool in each other’s presences? How in control of your own emotions must you have to be in order to sit in a van with someone you’re regularly seeing naked and not even acknowledge their existence?

This is the attitude I dream about having. I should be taking notes.