Except one time, after Carrie ruined his plan for the fall football kegger. She’d tipped her dad off, and the cops showed up. Buzz walked past her Monday at school, smiling, no hard feelings. Then he hissed the words, barely audible, “Fucking snitch bitch.” The nickname they gave her. Too soft for anyone else to hear. Totally deniable.

But that was the first time that Carrie thought Buzz might have vast, subterranean pressures building inside him, and that little hiss was only the slightest release.

Now, however, he’s smiling at her. “That was his name, right? Colchester? From one of the town’s first families. Why the hell would you guys be talking about him?”

He’s going to try to kill us all, Carrie almost says, and stifles a completely inappropriate laugh. The normies don’t need to know.

“We were talking about the parade,” she lies. “How that guy must be dead now. How are you doing, Buzz? You look good.”

He does. He’s starting to go a little gray in places, but it suits him. He could be the hot dad on a TV commercial. He wears a suit with his tie pulled to half-mast.

“Thank you,” he says, “but I look at the four of you and I think I’m the only one from our class who’s aging.”

Buzz offers Danny his hand. “Danny goddamn Sharp,” he says.

Danny takes the handshake. They were never close, but they got along, mostly because Danny was too rich not to be included with the cool kids. “Buzz,” he says.

“Actually, it’s Robert now. We’re a little past high school nicknames, I hope. I hear you’re the King of Silicon Valley.”

“Not really,” Danny says. “I sold my company to Facebook.”

That stops them all cold for a second. “It wasn’t for much,” Danny says. “It’s not like I’m a billionaire now.”

Buzz smirks at him. “Yeah, but you’re still the richest person in this room, right?”

“Yes,” Danny says.

“How much was the sale, Danny?” Eric asks, his voice very tight.

Danny tells them, and they all go quiet for a second.

“Like I said, I’m not a billionaire,” Danny says again, as if he cannot understand why they are all staring at him.

He really can’t, Carrie knows. Danny has been so rich for so long that he really only thinks of money as a way to keep score. He is genuinely puzzled why they don’t see the difference between a billion dollars and anything less, she reminds herself. He’s not trying to be an asshole.

But she also has $35,000 in student loan debt, so she decides to change the subject before she forgets that.

“So what are you doing these days, Buzz?” she asks.