A memory floated from the deepest recesses of my mind, softly blurred at the edges. When we were little kids, Chad had been chubby. He wasn’t one of the boys who had made fun of Penny’s lunches, but he’d joined in the laughter. So when he’d started hanging around us more often, making it clear he wanted to be our friend, Penny made him do all kinds of stupid things to earn our forgiveness.

It was her favorite game to make him ring someone’s doorbell and run away as fast as he could, only we were always faster, so we were already giggling behind a hedge while he was huffing and puffing his way down the driveway. He was the one who got in trouble, not us. A decade later and it still made my mouth taste sour.

But she was my first real friend. The first friend who had chosen me back, not someone who was forced to play with me because our moms set up a playdate. The way we’d treated Chad was mean, and even back then, I’d known it was wrong, but Penny had the kind of charisma that made us want to pass her test of friendship.

Penny was like that. If someone said something to her, it wasn’t just hers to deal with. It was mine and Chad’s, too. And Penny was always willing to show up for a fight and have our backs. It made me proud that she unfailingly thought of us as a team, but for the first time, I didn’t want it to be us against the world. Not if the world was Chad.

“Babe,” snapped Penny, impatient now. She frowned at me.

She wanted me to tell her I’d do it. She was waiting for me to do what she wanted. The hard edge in her voice couldn’t be softened even by the glow of alcohol.

Would I be the next to go if I failed her now? My vision swam. All I wanted was for things to go on like they always had. There was safety in things staying the same. A year from now, five years from now, all I wanted was for us to be the same, doing things together, being the people we’d always been. I didn’t want to be the kind of friends who drifted apart after high school, the kind who could live in the same town and still be strangers. I didn’t want to think about fall and college and uncertainties. I wanted what was certain. I wanted what was right now. Was that so wrong? Was it so unreasonable?

“Babe,” said Penny. “I really need you. Please, will you talk to him for me?” She reached out to twine her fingers between mine. She squeezed. I understood. She needed me to be her strength.