“I wasn’t lying.” A tear drops off her jaw and leaves a dark spot on her lilac shirt. “It just wasn’t my period.”

I feel sick. I feel … I don’t even know what I feel. I don’t know who this person is standing in front of me, still wearing a tiny swipe of creamy pink mask by her ear. Once upon a time I was the only person she’d have sleepovers with because she wet the bed until she was nine, and now she’s opening a whole hallway full of doors I never expected.

Saving herself for marriage has always been huge to Cara, and I was sure she was still a virgin and would be until her wedding night. I was equally sure that if she ever did break her vow of celibacy, she’d be responsible, and failing that, she’d be really excited to have a kid, especially if it got her out of her cramped house and out from under her parents’ thumb. And that wasn’t just me guessing—she’s said more than once that she thought she’d like to go straight into being a wife and mother, that college wasn’t really for her even though she planned to do at least two years at Atherton Community College.

I didn’t know anything, it turns out.

But then, Cara thinks she knows me, too. She thinks I have the perfect boyfriend in Miguel because she doesn’t know our whole romance is a sham. If she knows something is up between me and Jack, she definitely doesn’t know that we’ve been secretly dating for weeks. I’d be a major hypocrite to criticize her for keeping such a huge piece of herself from me, even though we both know I wouldn’t have judged her the same way she’d judge me.

“You could’ve told me. And I’m not mad that you didn’t,” I clarify. “It’s your business. But this must’ve been completely shitty to go through alone. So … why didn’t you? You know I would’ve been okay with all of it.”

“Do you seriously not get it?” The sadness in her eyes is quickly replaced by irritation. “It’s not about whether you’re okay with it, Amber. I’m not okay with it. My values didn’t change just because I strayed from my path for a while. Your validation isn’t what I need.”

And like that, we’re back to Jesus. It always comes back to Jesus. And from what I gather, Cara’s version of Jesus doesn’t have room for girls who think other girls look impossibly cute in glasses.

“Well, I’m sorry about your fight with our Lord and Savior, but I really don’t think He’s smiling upon what y’all are planning to do to Jack, either.”