“But I’m in a shopping cart!” Paige screeches. I get in front of her, and she puts one arm around my neck, and I hold the camera out in front of us. It makes a whirring and spits out the picture, and we laugh and grab it back and forth, shaking it, while the image of the two of us slowly reveals itself. I’m barely perceptible in the darkness, but Paige’s pale face glows menacingly, her white teeth like fangs.

*   *   *

When I get home, I’m feeling happy and light. I flop on my bed, but then feel a small guilty twinge. I text Lottie.

Hey girl you good?

There are a few ellipses that start and stop while she responds, then reconsiders.

Finally:

Fine. How was movie.

I jump, my cheeks flushing. Now the whole night feels slightly pathetic, like something they talked about together. Lottie knows I went out without her and didn’t invite her even though I could have, normally would have.

Good. Sorry was last minute

np.

Oh, the period. Never in the history of time has one tiny dot of punctuation been charged with so much passive aggression.

*   *   *

The next day, our geography class is in the library to work on some research assignment we were given. No one really takes any books out at the library anymore. Everyone works on laptops, pretending to research, but they’re really trying to see if they can look up porn and checking which sites are blocked.

There’s a table of girls, including Paige and Breanne, sitting in a circle blowing gossip rings up into the low ceiling, their giggles making the pages of the books shiver. I see the way other kids try to step out of their range, but some of them are caught by a snarky once-over or a low comment. Matthew, a freckle-faced, redheaded kid I’ve known since elementary school, who is heartbreakingly gangly and nerdy, gives them a wide berth as he passes the table, his head dipping. Their eyes follow him with the bored looks of well-fed lionesses. I wander between the stacks, too nervous to invite myself to sit with them.