“I feel lots of things,” he says, and I can sense that he’s getting agitated. “You have no fucking idea.” The curse word takes me by surprise. He was all jokes and smiles a few seconds ago, but I must have struck a nerve. His hands are in his hair, scrunching and pulling, and he probably doesn’t notice he’s doing it. I reach a hand up and rest it on his, trying to stop him.

“All right, I believe you.”

He pulls his hand away. It’s as if all the parts of Andrew have been mixed up and he’s trying to set them right again, get them back in their proper places.

“Sorry, Collins.” He takes a deep breath and then smiles, back to normal. “Don’t mind my weird shit.”

“Hey,” I say. “I’ll listen to your weird shit whenever, okay? I’m here for your weird shit anytime you need me.”

He puts his glasses back on, adjusting them until they’re straight. “Thanks.”

“You’re allowed to have feelings, you know.”

“Thanks for the tip, doc,” he says.

“I mean it. I’m your best friend. You can talk to me about real stuff.”

“A little confident, don’t you think?” he says, grinning. “Just proclaiming yourself my best friend.”

“Oh, shut up,” I say. “I think I’m allowed to proclaim myself whatever I want after eighteen years with you.”

“Actually, I’ve been getting really close with Jason Ryder lately,” he says, a mischievous smile on his face. “He might be taking your spot. He told a hilarious joke recently about women and sandwiches, and I think it might make him best-friend material. He’s—”

I shove him before he can finish and he falls off the couch.

It’s my first day of work after school on Tuesday, and when it comes I’m a nervous wreck. Every class seems to be about five seconds long, like I’ve spent the whole day stuck in hyperspace. Andrew, Hannah, and I have ceramics together last period, which is usually my favorite class, but today I can’t stop checking the time. We’re sitting at a big wooden table lined in paper, trying to paint our mugs with colored glaze. Mine looks less like a mug and more like a monster from the deep.

“Excited for today?” Hannah asks me from across the table. She dips her brush into the blue and paints a perfect swirl.

“What’s today?” Andrew asks. His mug broke in the kiln, so he’s just been watching us glaze.

“Keely’s big first day,” she says. “Our little baby’s all grown up.”

“Video store?” he asks. He has a thin stripe of purple paint on his left cheek and I wonder how it got there, considering he hasn’t touched the paint all class.