“Yeah… I wouldn’t tell her that if I were you,” Wes replies. “I think what Parisa needs is for you to admit that some things in life do come easier for you because of the way you look. Just like she’d probably admit things in life come easier for her because her parents have money.”

Everything he’s saying just makes me fall harder for him. We’ve been friends for so long, and yet I never knew Wes Bowen was so insightful. And I didn’t think he’d be the kind of boyfriend who’d call me out on my bullshit, which is much better than someone who just tries to coddle me and shower me with compliments. This version of him is so much more appealing.

“You’re right,” I admit. “But I’m still mad at her.”

I change the subject and ask him how his dad and little sister are holding up. We talk about Andrew, and Wes tells me he heard he turned a corner, and that after a month in the hospital, he’s supposed to get out of the ICU soon. I wonder if Parisa knows that yet. Just before we’re about to hang up, he asks me to wait.

“Did the guy at Pinkberry actually say that to you and Parisa?”

“Oh my God! I don’t know. I don’t remember that at all.”

I’m lying. I do remember it. And I’m suddenly reminded of the way his comment made me feel. Like I was better than my best friend and that I was glad someone had finally pointed it out to her. I take a deep breath. I was wrong. I’m the one drinking the poison.

PARISA

I have a confession to make: I haven’t left my house since the first day of lockdown. More specifically, that means I haven’t gone on any afternoon strolls around our Bay Area neighborhood, or made a quick coffee run for a double oat milk latte, or seen any of my friends. It’s been nearly five months since I’ve gone anywhere. My parents and my older sister have started to suspect, of course, that I’ve been too nervous of getting sick to venture out. But no one else does. I haven’t told my best friend because I’m afraid that she won’t understand. I’m embarrassed to admit to anyone who’s not related to me that my anxiety, which I try to hide when I can, has potentially evolved into full-fledged agoraphobia. Some of my classmates have braved airports and airplanes to quarantine closer to grandparents. I haven’t braved anything.