But instead I press my lips back together and remember that this is the opportunity I wanted to have this weekend. Sure, it’s not what I practiced for, but it still has to happen, and maybe especially now. Even in spite of the way she’s acting at the moment, I know her. She’s embarrassed and hurt and she’s still my very best friend.

I have to make it better.

“There haven’t been many opportunities to tell you anything lately,” I say.

She stares at me. “You could’ve texted me.”

Sarcastia speech must be catching, because the first thing I think to say is, Texting is your way of doing things, not mine. Instead I take a breath and try to calm the predictable roiling in my stomach.

“Texting isn’t how I want to tell you things,” I say.

There’s a long pause where Sibby simply looks at me, as though she’s trying to decide whether it’s worth it, to do this.

And it almost breaks my heart when she uncrosses her arms and shrugs, moving toward her luggage. “We’ve both been really busy, I guess.”

I move to stand in front of her suitcase.

Because she’s worth it, to me.

“Sib. Don’t do that. Let’s finally talk.”

She stills, crosses her arms again. But I can tell she’s surprised. “Listen, I know it makes it weird, that I’m moving out.”

“That’s not what makes it weird. It’s been weird for months. I don’t want to pretend it’s not anymore.”

Her face softens, and she drops her eyes to our weathered floors. “It’s probably—you know how it is, when you get into a new relationship. Elijah and I—”

“It’s not Elijah. This is before Elijah. You know it is.”

That softness in her face vanishes. She raises her chin. “Meg, you’re making this too big of a deal. I’ve changed, you’ve changed. That happens sometimes.”

You know how it is? That happens sometimes? Like she’s educating me, in some way, about friendship in general. About our friendship in particular. I once held this woman’s hair after she threw up from one wine cooler at senior prom. I got on my hands and knees on the floor of the Union Square station to help her find one of her favorite earrings even though the pair had only cost fifteen dollars. I’ve held on to grudges against anyone who’s ever done her the slightest wrong. I know what friendship is.

I know I haven’t made it too big of a deal.