I cross my arms. “I can’t believe you’d ditch these little kids for a bunch of people you don’t even know.”

“I do know them.” She flinches. “They’re my friends.”

“They’re his friends,” I say.

“Yeah, and I’m his girlfriend, Robbie. Why can’t you understand that?”

The awkward silence hangs between us. I feel like she’s punched me. “I don’t know. You’re the one who always hated him,” I sputter. “I’ve been indifferent to him.”

“Well, I like him now,” she says.

“Honestly, Sara, I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“Really, because I’m dating Braden? That’s just dramatic.”

“No.” I run a hand through my hair. “It’s not about him, although, frankly I think that if someone seems shitty for the first ninety-nine impressions and then gives one good one, then maybe they are still, you know, a shitty person.” I let myself make the dig, even though I know it distracts from my broader point. I can’t help it. “Whatever, date him if you want. But really? First with this app that helps people objectify each other, and now you’re ditching the outreach that was your heart? I thought you were in this to change the world. I thought you wanted to be a female pioneer in the next wave of technology. I thought you wanted to build something useful, something helpful. Is this what you really pictured doing? Hawking a morally bankrupt app so it’ll pay for your spring break trip with the cast of Keeping Up with the Kardashians Junior?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Sara says. The words sting. It might be the first time I’ve ever heard her swear. “Don’t act like you didn’t build half the app too.”

“Then we’re both guilty.” I open my arms. “But at least I’ve started to feel bad about it. At least I’ve started to think about getting out. You’re not even fighting it—you’re letting it change what is you.”

She stares at me in silence, before mumbling, “I need to go now. I have brunch plans.” She stalks toward the door.

“I’m sure you do,” I say.

But she is already walking away. On her way out, she realigns my roommate’s framed Animal House poster on the wall so that it is level. Then she leaves and slams the door, sending it back askew.

Chapter Thirty

Sara

I’ve never been nervous going after school to get extra help from teachers. Or chatting with them during recess, or speaking up during class. Honestly, for a good part of my childhood, I was friendlier with the teachers than the other kids.

But today is different. Because today I’m going to Professor Dustin Thomas’s office hours. Which are by appointment only. And have a wait-list.