Asad raises his eyebrows and puts his fists up like he’s about to hit a punching bag. He swings a right hook into the air.

“What about the part where I took a jab at that football Neanderthal?”

“You mean when he walloped you?” Piper says.

“I got in a few good blows.”

“I didn’t need you to fight for me.”

Asad lowers his fists, deflated. “I thought I was fighting with you.”

I point to the juice stains bleeding into my white shirt, already drying with deep purple rings. “And I came out on the losing end of a battle with a cooler.” I grab the toilet paper Piper twists in her hands. “She can’t treat us this way because you were supposed to be driving or because I’m your friend now. She’s the one who sabotaged your friendship in the first place.”

Asad interrupts us. “That’s not exact—”

Piper cuts him off. “She blames me. I blame her. Vicious cycle of hate that ends in Ava getting punch-doused at her first party. End scene.”

“I don’t care whose fault everything was,” I say. “This is not right.”

“And what are you going to do?” She stares at me, daring me to reply. “I saw you in there, camouflaging into the wall like usual.”

“Maybe we should just go home,” Asad offers. “Cool off. I can drive.”

“Fine,” Piper says. She wheels toward the front door, but I don’t follow. She’s right. I did nothing. Like always.

I tell Asad to get Piper in the car and I’ll be right behind him.

Then I turn my sights on Kenzie.

She sits atop her puppy-dog boyfriend’s lap, the Wicked tickets next to her on the couch. Her eyeliner kitty whiskers streak down her face, and tears smudge her black-tipped nose onto her cheek.

“If you’re here to tell me this is my fault, keep walking,” she says. “I’m getting pretty tired of Piper’s blame-everything-on-Kenzie game.” When I don’t say anything, she keeps going. “You know, I felt sorry for you when you first got here. I really did. But it’s like you want me to hate you. You’re trying to upstage me in the play, you steal my friend and then come to my home with her just to…what? Flaunt it in my face? I’m sorry your life sucks, but could you please stop trying to ruin mine?”

For a half second, I almost feel bad for her. She must be buried alive in guilt for the crash, and she’d do anything to shovel some of it on Piper.

She sniffles and stares at me, waiting for me to say something.

“What? No curtains nearby to drop on my head this time?” she says, sucking away my temporary sympathy.