Ray recovered a little, but not enough. “I—I wanted to—I can fix this.”

“This,” Brooke said shrilly, “is not fixable! I earned that position. I needed it for college, and you took it from me. And you lied about it.”

Ray looked at me, scanned my face for—for what? Triumph? Laughter? But I was getting no entertainment from this. This was not satisfying. I just felt sick.

Jaz placed a hand on Ray’s arm to comfort her, and Ray covered her mouth with a hand. “Brooke, I—”

“We’re going,” Brooke snapped to me.

We.

So, she wasn’t mad at me, suddenly.

I hardly had time to process this before she’d grabbed my wrist and led me through the living room. Pretty much everyone had stopped to stare at us by now. Looking between Brooke and me, and Ray and Jaz. Forming theories in their heads about what it could be, what could’ve happened.

Someone turned the music down.

Then we were outside. Brooke stopped. I stopped.

And she promptly burst into tears, gripping my wrist with both hands like she needed me to stay upright. So, I grabbed her right back, and helped her stay upright.

TWELVE