But I was the one who’d broken the stupid code.

Carter had really put his money where his mouth was too. He’d completely ghosted Hannah and stopped inviting people who weren’t Austin, Robert, or Jamal to do anything with him. According to Austin, Carter was more focused than ever on college and had even driven down to Clarkebridge for a pre-med acceptance meeting. I was still studying for the AP bio test, miles away from the program I wanted to attend.

There was that, and then the fact that I now had to do all of my own homework. Austin and Carter still shared their answers with each other, but Austin couldn’t give me as many of his. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; he didn’t have time.

I was starting to get why people say high school is hard.

At least I had Eliza. After the soccer season ended, we’d established her room as our after-school study spot. We were “allowed” to do that because Olivia felt bad for me. (Though her pity cupcakes were almost enough to make me feel normal.) While I poured over my biology textbook, Eliza worked at her drawing table, building her portfolio for art school.

The afternoons always got worse, however, when the back door slammed and heavy feet climbed up the stairs. Carter wouldn’t say anything as he passed Eliza’s room, where we waited, hoping this would be the day he’d come talk to us. He’d stomp all the way down the hall and slam his door, through which the opening melody of Fortnite sang down to us. Eliza always called out a hello and waited for him to say it back. And I always wondered if I should go up there to say something.

Carter never said hello back.

I never went up there to say something.

Sooner than I wanted, the critical day in February was upon us, and my fate was in the hands of the AP bio test. The exam room was a few towns over, and I had to wake up at 5:00 a.m. to not miss it. On a Saturday.

I shuffled into the exam room ten minutes before it began, as instructed. It was a stuffy, moldy-smelling classroom, and my head immediately began to throb. The shiny floors made walking in feel like boarding a spaceship, but I managed to show the exam proctor my ID. He was a twenty-something skinny dude that must have been a grad student. His square glasses and ultimate frisbee jersey made him an ultra-nerd. Before, I would have written him off in my book, though after starting to appreciate nerds for their intellect and ability to help me study, I actually began wondering what this guy’s deal was. Who was his baseball team? Which Smash character did he play?

The proctor pushed me a thick exam packet and a number two pencil. “Fill out your name on the front and don’t open it until I start the exam.”