I let out a laugh, thinking back to the conversation I had with Princess Rosemary at Molly’s party. She’s far from the meanest person I’ve ever met, but she wasn’t exactly warm, either.

I’m still not sure what I think about our interaction at the party. On the one hand, it was the first time that day I did anything except smile and answer questions politely and panic that I was making a shitty first impression. On the other, I think Rosemary might have just triggered my fight-or-flight response, which is definitely not the same thing as coming out of my shell.

So, what was that all about? Was it my gut instinct recognizing her as the same sort of bully that terrorized me last year? That’s sort of how Maddison and her gang functioned, after all. They’d make little comments that sounded friendly and innocent, like asking my opinion on something, or complimenting my appearance. But then if I took them at face value and answered normally, she and her friends would burst out laughing, like it was hilarious I could’ve thought they were being nice to me. The only safe way to reply to those girls was silence, or coldness. They couldn’t laugh at that. On the other hand, it made me look like a nasty person to anyone in earshot. I could never win, and they wanted it that way.

But that was last year, and there was no group of girls laughing at me at Molly’s party. So, I have to give Rosemary the benefit of the doubt for now, right? Just because she’s got a prickly sense of humor doesn’t necessarily mean I’ve met my new future-bully. I hope not, anyway.

Meanwhile, Molly has shifted. Her jaw and fists seem to be competing over which can clench the tightest. Her fists are winning, for the record.

I noticed the same tense body language when Molly spoke to Rosemary that day. So, while we’re talking about her, I decide to ask Molly the question that’s been bugging me since her party. “Hey, um, when we were at your house, people kept asking you about Rosemary.”

She nods and starts rolling her shoulders, stretching her neck as she does.

“It sort of sounded like everyone thinks you’re friends,” I say. “Like, good ones. But I don’t get that vibe from you.”

Molly pretends to look shocked. “You don’t?”

“I know, don’t freak out, I’m just super observant,” I say dryly. I’m smiling at the joke, but also with relief. If Rose does turn out to be a piece of work, I’ll want to stay out of her way, which might be kind of tough if she’s best friends with my only friend.

“Yeah. It’s a long story. Rose and I were best friends, but now we’re … I don’t know.”