Lottie says nothing, but her mouth becomes a tight line, which I know is a sign of fury.

I soften just a small bit. “Lottie. Jesus. You could have told me.”

She looks at me levelly. Her shoulders drop.

“It’s okay. I understand, I guess. Where is he going?” I continue, quietly, “I mean, I get that he needs his own life, but why is he leaving?”

Lottie takes a breath like she’s going to respond, but just shakes her head.

“Well. You have two amazing parents. You’re pretty, you’re popular. You’ve got it all. I mean, my mom is a selfish and oblivious asshat, and her boyfriend is a … Well, anyway. My dad forgot about me because he’s so focused on fair-trade coffee and his perky, hipster girlfriend. But you have these two interesting, amazing parents. You know what I’m saying, here? Hello?”

“Whatever. Stop obsessing over my family. The bigger question is, what about you?” she asks, her voice sounding close to tears. “You are suddenly a different person!”

“What? No, I’m—”

“You are! I feel like I don’t even know you!”

“I had to, Lottie.” I am almost crying myself. “Things were—”

“Well, things are bad for me, too. I wish—” She stops herself, then starts slapping the soggy strips on my face, not caring where they go, or if she covered that part of my face in Vaseline.

“Hey, go easy!”

“Stevie,” she says finally, holding one in her hand, “shut your mouth.”

“I just want to say something!”

Mr. DiFranco calls over, “Stevie, you need to keep your mouth still so your partner can apply the strips to the lower portion of your face. Tempting as it may be to speak.”

Lottie smirks, and I feel my plastered face burn.

*   *   *

I take a bathroom break during Geography and decide to go to the downstairs one, dragging out my break to wander the quiet halls. On my way back, wiping my mouth after drinking from a fountain, I pull open one of the stairwell doors and see Aiden, leaning over to pick up a book he dropped. I freeze, and the door clangs shut behind me. He starts and turns around, surprised; then his face relaxes into a scoff. He picks up his book and turns to start up the stairs. I take a deep breath, my body thrumming. It’s now or never, I think. Something in my newfound confidence, having Dee in my corner, gives me the strength in this moment to try to get to the bottom of part of what started it all.

“Why’d you do it, Aidan?” I call to him.

He stops and slowly turns back, hopping off the stair and taking a step toward me. My body stiffens.

“What?” he says, moving closer. I don’t mean to but I stumble back, bumping against the old red-brick wall beside the doors.