“Okay, you’re fine,” I say, and we walk the rest of the way making awkward small talk.

*   *   *

In homeroom I watch Rhonda and wonder if she knows that I know. She acts no differently to me, but I can’t help feeling a little stung. I mean, aren’t I like a daughter to her? She’s always said so. I wait after class to see if maybe she wants to talk to me, but she just looks up from her desk and asks if I need anything.

“No, no, I’m good,” I say.

“You sure are, kid,” she says, smiling and getting up as the next class files in. In the hallway, I see Paige giving Lottie a hug.

“Hey guys,” I say, joining them as they separate.

“Hey,” says Paige. Then she looks at Lottie and says in a low voice, “You good?” Lottie nods, smiling gratefully. “Cool. I gotta get to class. See you guys!” She rushes off down the hallway.

“What’s up?” I ask Lottie. Then, “Does Paige know about”—I drop my voice to a whisper—“you know?”

Lottie nods. “Oh yeah, she’s been awesome.” But before I can register if this is a dig, she says, “Oh shit! I forgot my bag in homeroom!” And she dashes off, leaving me standing there.

*   *   *

I walk home with Paige and Lottie, who seem to have developed their own rhythm. They are laughing about something Luke said to Paige about Lottie.

“I mean, he is into you,” Paige says, nudging Lottie, who pushes back, clearly pleased.

“Whatever. He’s kind of a player, so …”

“So what? Who says you can’t be, too? You should totally hit that.”

“Totally,” I say, a beat late, and the words sound completely fake. Lottie is as big a virgin as me.

Lottie glances at me and says, “Maybe …”

Paige looks from Lottie to me. There is silence for a couple of minutes.

“There is, like, no one I want at that school,” I say, as if they asked.

“No?” Paige asks. “Why? What are you into?”

“Um. It’s not that I’m into anything, but I mean, there’s no one I like …” I finish lamely.

“Right,” Paige says, her head bobbing in vague agreement. Soon she peels off to go toward her street, and Lottie and I continue together.

“So …” I venture, “Luke, hey?”

“What?” Lottie says. “Something wrong with him?”

“No, not at all.”

“I know. He’s one of those guys,” she says, shrugging, “I dunno. It’s just flattering.”

“Oh, for sure. I think it’s great!” I say, enthusiastically. Ugh. It feels so forced. I’m almost relieved when we get to her house and she waves good-bye. I cut through someone’s backyard to get to my street, startled when a little dog jumps against a window, barking furiously.

*   *   *