“I don’t understand,” she complained to me after I skipped the third prank in a row. “You never had a problem before.” We were at my house after school, just the two of us like always. “What’s different?”

I shrugged. “I just don’t want to anymore.”

“It’s Jack, isn’t it?” she asked.

“No.” Though maybe it was, at least partly.

“He’s just trying to steal you away from me,” she concluded, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs by the pool.

I laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“I’m being serious! He was a competitive swimmer, wasn’t he? And now he can’t compete, so this is what he does instead.” Elise scoffed.

“That’s ridiculous.” I lit us two cigarettes and passed her one. It was four in the afternoon, and we had the whole place to ourselves. Mom and Dad were at work, and Christian was probably with his girlfriend.

“Then come back,” she said, tipping her sunglasses down to look at me.

“Finals are next week,” I protested.

“Fuck finals,” she said. “This is more important.”

I didn’t answer, snuffing out my cigarette and staring at the water. Finally I turned to her. “How are things?”

“How are things? Really, Rem?” she asked.

Ever since she showed me that bruise on her shoulder, she never brought up her father again.

“They’re fine,” she said. “God, I wish I’d never told you, honestly. It’s not a big deal. I can handle myself, stop asking!” She paused. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I would never do that.” It hurt to think she didn’t trust me. She wished she’d never confided in me, and now she thought I might’ve told someone when I promised I wouldn’t.

“Good.” Her eyes were so piercing that I almost flinched. “And don’t change the subject. We’re talking about you.”

In the days after the prank on Lara, Jack had told me, “It’s not about fairness. It’s just revenge. There’s already so much awful shit out there, why add more?”

I heard that even after Lara’s parents paid thousands of dollars to clean out the ventilation system in her car, the stink of tuna lingered. When Elise found out, she laughed.

It just seemed cruel.

“Come out with us tonight,” she said, lighting a second cigarette. “We’re getting Mr. V.”

“The principal?” I used to think Elise was an everyday heroine, a protector of the downtrodden. That she only ever wielded her power for good, sticking up for people who needed it. But what had Mr. Voss done?

“Yeah—”

Before she could launch into a speech about why we had to get mild-mannered Mr. Voss, I cut her off. “I already have plans,” I lied.

“With Jack?” she said. “I thought he worked Wednesday nights?”

I shrugged. “He swapped shifts.” It was so strange and awful, how easy it’d been to lie to her. We were best friends, soulmates. It was us against the world. Only, it was starting to feel different.