I’m feeling smug and self-satisfied for all of two seconds when the doubt starts creeping in.

Kiki has a podcast, Kiki on the Case, and has all these internet friends from this online forum dedicated to unsolved mysteries, plus the Asian American Students’ Association, whose meetings she attends whenever she needs a break from what she lovingly (I think) calls our Unbearable Whiteness of Being.

Gia has a boyfriend she’s practically married to and the very same cheerleading squad I quit.

Shannon does random sophisticated shit, like museum outings and French Club, and has a new boy on her arm every five minutes. She’s the kind of person who not only has a five-year plan but will definitely execute every single step perfectly, while still managing to be the absolute most fun person in the world to party with and the one who’ll have the perfect hangover cure in the morning.

What the hell do I have besides a few secret files on my computer all called some variation of TerribleWriting.doc? Would the four of us have stayed friends for as long as we have if Shannon and her plans hadn’t kept us together?

As for my summer friends, I haven’t exactly done a stellar job of keeping in touch: a “like” of Brea’s post about some yoga achievement here, a sad face emoji on a picture depicting Derek and Jack parting for the school year there.… At most there were a few texts between me and Keisha, casual reminders that a show we liked had its season premiere coming up. I’d had a great time with them all, but the closer Jasmine and I got, the further the others had faded into the background. I still scrolled through their pictures to see Keisha with the marching band friends she’d talked about all summer, Owen’s surfing action shots, and Carter’s Outfit of the Day posts, but without Jasmine to share them with, it felt like another life.

Without Jasmine, I don’t have OBX friends.

Without Shannon, would I have Stratford friends?

If I somehow got Jasmine back—if I even wanted her back—what would it mean losing when everyone else found out the truth?

I press a pillow over my mouth and scream in frustration. Damn my mother for starting me down this train of thought.

When I finally tuck myself into bed, I make myself think happy thoughts of Chase as I fall asleep, but I end up dreaming of an empty beach.

I wake feeling like crap the next morning, but while dear old Dad has agreed to subsidize my college tuition as long as I go to a state school, I’m on my own for the Larissa Bogdan Automobile Fund, so off to work I go.