I don’t know how Amy found the strength to step up when neither Jorge nor I knew what to say. I had no idea she respected my parents so much, that she cared about Sophie this deeply.

I’m not sure if something inside of her has changed, because the Amy we used to know would’ve never done or said anything like this. Or maybe we’d just never given her a fair chance—maybe Ma and Pa were always a little bitter toward her just because Jorge started spending less time with us once he started seeing Amy. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. As I watch her eating cookies with my sister, getting Sophie to smile and laugh even after what happened today, it’s as if I’m seeing Amy for the very first time.

After spending my lunch hour in the study room for two weeks straight, a part of me is starting to believe that I might just manage to make it through the end of the school year without failing any of my courses.

On a Friday in mid-May, I’m deep in concentration, headphones on and books spread out on the table in front of me, when I start to feel as though someone is watching me. Lifting my gaze, I see a pair of eyes looking through the glass on the door of the study room. A second later, the door swings open, and Kimmie walks in.

She comes up to the table where I’m sitting and puts a brown bag in front of me. “I brought you fries.”

I peek inside the bag. It’s only half-full, and the fries look kinda cold.

“Fine, they’re leftover fries,” Kimmie adds quickly. “But still—I thought you might be hungry.”

“Thanks,” I say. As she pushes a chair back to take a seat in front of me, I notice she’s wearing bright pink Nikes. I’ve never seen her in these shoes before, but they look pretty worn. If I were in a better mood, I would ask her where she got them, and she’d probably tell me about this new thrift shop she found and how we should make plans to go over the weekend, but I don’t say anything at all.

“How’s the schoolwork coming along?” asks Kimmie, looking at the books spread all over the table.

“It’s good.” I shut my chemistry textbook, and the loud sound it makes earns me a few annoyed stares from people sitting nearby.

Kimmie nods slowly. “Have you talked to Adam lately?”

“I haven’t really seen him since he started rehearsals. I just—”

“I haven’t seen him much, either,” she says. “But I still think you should reach out to him… you know, whenever you’re ready.”