“Quite the outpouring of support,” Mr. Lynch says, stopping next to me in the middle of the hall as I stare at the locker grief vomit.

I nod. “Yeah. Suddenly, Piper has a hundred best friends she never knew existed.”

Mr. Lynch steps between me and the locker, meeting my eyes, just like he did on my first day here.

“If you ever need anything. Anything. My door is always open,” he says, and I know he means it. Of all the phonies at this school, at least I’ve always known where I stood with him. “I should have seen what was happening with Piper. I should have seen the signs, but I missed it somehow.”

“Everybody did,” I say, my own guilt creeping up again.

Mr. Lynch nods and turns to the locker of cards that came too late.

“It’s a good reminder: Everyone has scars. Some are just easier to see.”

Asad and Sage abandon their usual cliques to sit with me at lunch. Sage asks about Piper, and then gets a weird look on her face like maybe she’s about to cry or puke. “I should have done more.”

“Join the club,” I say.

On the far side of the cafeteria, the volleyball team has set up a poster for everyone to sign commanding Piper to GET WELL SOON! I toss my soggy sandwich down on the table.

“We should do more now. Something real. Not cards or words or smiley-face hearts on her locker,” I say. “You know none of these people are going to be here for Piper when she isn’t the gossip of the week, and she’s going to be right back in all the same old crap. We have to fix it.”

“How do you fix this?” Asad asks.

“I don’t know. There has to be something we can do. One actual thing.”

Sage chews slowly, thinking. “What would make Piper do this? Why now?”

Kenzie catches my eye from her table. She watches me with sideways glances, her pink-tinged eyes sparking something in my brain.

“The day Piper took the pills, Piper and Kenzie were fighting outside.”

And then—like the jerk I am—I chose Kenzie over Piper.

Sage shakes her head. “Kenzie didn’t say anything about a fight with Piper. She barely talks to her.”

Kenzie stands and takes a step toward me, but then abruptly sits like she’s changed her mind, and as she does, a thought that’s been smoldering longer than I realized suddenly catches fire. The anonymous text of me melting. The cruel one-liners on Piper’s phone from Kenzie.

Piper said she could handle a few texts. But what if it was more?

I hug Sage.

“You’re a genius. Of course Kenzie didn’t talk to Piper. That’s never been her style.”

After school, I return to the hospital, armed with my wig and a mission.