Heidi didn’t have the heart to move. Her arms were wobbly and sore, like she’d swum through custard. Maybe Lisa Parsons had rejected her because she’d sulked in the corner after praising Kim. That had been babyish. She wouldn’t kiss herself after behavior like that.

Nancy’s silver SUV pulled into the lot. She always parked as far away as possible, to sober up on the walk to the door. Heidi stood up and brushed off snow as Nancy crossed the parking lot and through the complex’s front yard with her funny, unmeasured stride. Her hair was down, gray strands swinging. When she reached her building, she leaned against the wall and lit a joint. Heidi walked over and stood beside her. The bricks were ice blocks against her back.

“Taking a stroll, Princess of the Alps?”

Nancy sucked the joint and offered Heidi a drag, the joke of it all over her face. Heidi was Kim’s square friend, the kid with the annoying father. But tonight, Heidi accepted. She drew from the clumsy wad of weed and paper, holding in a mouthful of smoke until her eyes watered. So what if Lisa Parsons hadn’t worked out? Heidi could do anything. She’d kissed a woman tonight.

A sliver of light shone from the living room above, too steep an angle for Kim to see them. Kim must’ve been waiting at the computer for Lisa Parsons to get home and IM her, start the relationship for real. Soon Heidi would have to tell Kim that her sweatshirt was gone, that Lisa Parsons wasn’t interested, that she was just some pervert, like they should’ve always known. The good news was, Kim wouldn’t mind. They could salvage the sleepover.

“Thanks for having me over,” Heidi said.

“You should come around more.” Nancy extinguished the joint. “Tell your daddy I’m not so bad.”

This was enough, the leftover smoke itching her lungs, hanging out with a grown-up who seemed to care. So it wasn’t romantic. So what? She headed for the door.

Nancy pinched Heidi’s sleeve, stopping her. “Hey. Heidi. Kim never told you what happened at her old school, did she?” Nancy frowned. “I think you should know.”

Nancy was serious. Heidi’s limbs tensed. “She told me some stuff.”

“Never tell her I told you this. Look. I trust you.” Nancy’s mouth twitched. “I can trust you, right?”

Heidi’s muscles hardened, ready. Maybe someone had posted a picture of Kim’s vagina on the school bulletin board or pretended to seduce her and revealed a laughing crowd behind a curtain. Or Kim had been a diminished person in Scituate, maybe: nose aimed at the ground, back curled against not even insults but indifference.

“There was a girl,” Nancy said, rubbing her arm. Her chin and mouth were suddenly too soft, drooping. “Kim got the wrong idea. She acts tougher than she is.”