“I know her well enough to know she doesn’t think highly enough of either of us, but especially you, to treat us anything more than bugs squashed under her toe. And you’ve been weird lately, okay? Like, running off on all these secret things and not telling me what’s going on. That doesn’t make me feel very good, and I definitely don’t feel trusted.”

I open my mouth, but there are no words. Because he’s right. I have been sneaking around without any explanation, and my parents’ divorce has made me want to slink away into a cave with just me and Cheese. And sometimes Kiera, because she at least understands what’s going on a little bit.

“I even wrote to Miss Flora Mae, and you wanna know what she said? She said people are like boomerangs, and you’ve got to let them go so that they can decide if they want to come back to you. She confirmed what I was feeling all along. And guess what? I don’t even think I care if we’re friends anymore. If you’re gonna ignore me, I can do the same right back to you.”

The letter. It only ran in the newspaper this morning, but I’d somehow forgotten I’d ever even written it. I didn’t even check the paper today. All I could think about was my project. “I didn’t know it was me you were talking about!” I say. “I never would have responded that way if I knew you’d written the letter.”

I clap both my hands over my mouth, but it’s too late. Oh crud. My big secret. My big mouth. When I first read that letter, I could so easily understand how the sender felt. Kiera had made me feel that exact same way. I knew that Oscar and I were having a rough time, but it hadn’t even occurred to me that I could make him feel just as bad.

“You never would’ve responded?” he asks, his brow furrowed into a knot. But then his eyes widen as it dawns on him. “You. You wrote that response from Miss Flora Mae?” He lets out a sharp gasp. “You’ve been writing her advice column this whole time, haven’t you? Is that why you’ve been sneaking around? I saw you go over to her house in the middle of the night the other week. But why would you do that?” He shakes his head and lowers his voice, but he’s still plenty loud for everyone to hear. “Is she dead? Did that old vampire finally die?”

I throw my arms up, exasperated. “No! She’s not dead. And I didn’t answer all of them. Just a few. That’s it. And she’s not a vampire! She’s . . . eclectic!” I nearly scream the word.

“Sweet Pea?” asks Kiera.

I forgot she was standing right there. I look around and see the faces of the entire lunch period, basically everyone fourth grade and up. They heard me. They all heard me. My throat tightens, and I can’t think of a single thing to say. I can’t even make myself deny it.