“But you and I were barely talking.” Her eyes darkened. “You disappeared, Finley. Poof!” She made an accompanying gesture with her fingers.

“I went to another school in another state—”

I was about to tell her about how I’d mucked it up there, how I wasn’t going back, but the words stuck. Why can’t I just say it? I felt like Grandma Jo, in a way. Caught between two worlds, unable to commit to either one.

Mia couldn’t have known any of that, of course. She interpreted what she heard through her own special filter and what I got in response was an actual foot stomp, complete with both fists clenched.

“Everything’s always all about you and that stupid school! Finley’s so smart, Finley’s going to the fancy school, Finley gets the boy! Well, I liked the boy first! I liked him ever since him and Tanner played on Junior Varsity together!” Tanner was Mia’s older brother, who was now a freshman at Utica Community College.

“You never said anything.”

“What was I supposed to say? I never thought Brody’d like someone like you or me and then he did but it was you instead of me? It’s always you. I’m always just your satellite, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. You’ve never said any of this before.” She hadn’t even hinted.

“Well, it’s true,” she pouted. “People here notice me now that you’re gone. Brody noticed me.”

Something occurred to me then. “Is that why you told me to break up with him?”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t make you do anything!”

“That’s not what I said—”

“You’re in charge of your own life, Finley. Don’t be blaming me for anything.”

“I never—”

“It’s so typical. And you know what? I’m glad you left. I’m glad we’re not friends anymore. Now I can finally have the spotlight. It’s Mia Time!”

I snort-laughed. Which was the exact worst thing I could have done.

“Fuck you, Finley,” she said, flipping me off, then she opened the door from the mudroom back into the main house and slammed it as hard as she could behind her.

I probably stood in the mudroom for a full five minutes, absorbing the finality of our friendship. Which on some level I knew was a good thing. Healthy, even.

But I’d never lost a friend before. Not like this. And for all of her many faults, Mia and I had a lot of history. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that a part of me wanted to go after her and tell her to listen to me, that I wasn’t saying any of what she just accused me of saying.

I turned around instead. Opened the door to the outside and stepped into the cold.