The following week, Sophia would come by during dinner-time, eat with Elle and her family, and then after dinner, they huddled together in Elle’s bedroom so Sophia could recount her adventures. On Tuesday she said, “We hung out in Ashley’s basement and everyone got high on hash and those little canisters you suck air from. Ashley’s dad is a dentist.” On Wednesday she said, “Oh my god, you’ll never believe it. Ginger called her mom a bitch to her face when her mom caught us cutting after lunch.” On Thursday she said, “Jessica’s parents have a fully stocked bar with fancy crystal containers we poured hard liquor from.” Hard liquor was a term Sophia had never used before. Elle remembered this detail as the defining moment when she knew Sophia had slipped away.

On Friday night Sophia said, “Half of the six pack have slept with Speed. They said, ‘he wasn’t all that.’” When Elle got pissed about it, Sophia said, “You’re just jealous.” Sophia had come by to get ready at Elle’s. She was going to her first ever college keg party. One of the six-pack’s older brothers was throwing it. Elle couldn’t go. Her soccer team had an away tournament for the entire weekend. The bus was leaving at dawn.

Sophia wore a red lipstick that matched her Dragon Lady nail polish. She puckered her lips and said, “C’mon, please are you sure?” She had on one of those tank tops with a built in bra that looks like a negligee with white lace on the edges. One of the straps slipped from her shoulder and she left it dangling. She was scratching at an itch on her elbow when she said, “The college guys will be so much more mature! You’re missing out.” She oozed youth and sex appeal and a dangerous vulnerability that the other girls of the six-pack didn’t possess. Even Elle could see that.

Elle said, “Be careful cuz.”

At the soccer tournament in Pismo Beach, the fields were beautifully manicured, the crowds cheered with spirit, gulls cried out overhead, and their team won both their games. It was a good weekend to feel optimistic and hopeful. Pam Pure asked Elle, “Do you want to share a locker next year?” Pam knew about things like Ivy League schools and scholarships. Pam said, “They’re such losers here, there’s no way I’ll end up stuck at State.” Her eyes glazed over traveling to the faraway land of her successful future. When she snapped back she said, “You should come over and study for the SAT with me next weekend. My dad made flash cards. We go to TGIFs for potato skins and ranch if my practice scores are in the 90th percentile.”