So there I am with my sad sandwich in one hand, listening to a podcast about grisly murders, minding my own damn business and graffitiing male genitals into the desk with a compass in my other hand. I find that teachers assume it is boys who graffiti such things onto desks. If you are a girl inclined to deface school property, may I suggest the classic penis and balls, as you will avoid suspicion due to stereotyping.

Izzy was swinging a locker key around her finger and humming show tunes loud enough to penetrate the description of dismemberment playing through my headphones. I used to love her penchant for bursting into song, but when you fall out with someone, you can grow to hate the same things you once loved. I didn’t look at her, but I could tell the moment when she noticed I was there. The air became thick, and I knew she wasn’t sure whether to avoid me or not. We’d had this huge fight over Hannah, and I hadn’t spoken to her in two weeks.

I pretended not to notice her even though I was counting the awkward, clunking seconds piling up. While her back was turned, I peeked. She was staring into her locker. Her shoulders sagged. I knew then that she was going to try to have a heart-to-heart with me. My options were to hastily try to wrap up my sandwich and get out of there or sit through the awkward attempt to reconnect. There was a small possibility that she’d start telling me off, but it was remote. Izzy was a gentle sort, not prone to confrontation. I was the cross me once, cold shoulder forever type.

I’m a real catch, did I mention that?

Izzy pulled a chair around and sat opposite me. I removed my earbuds and sighed pointedly.

“Yes?” I said, as if she were a teacher bothering me about missing homework, not one of my oldest friends.

“Saoirse, let’s not do this. We’re friends.” Her face was open, vulnerable. She really wanted me to drop the defenses and tell her how I felt. I admit I thought about it. Cutting someone out takes a lot of energy. The last couple of weeks had been the loneliest I’d ever had. Everyone I could talk to was gone, not just at school but at home too. Trying to manage my feelings by myself after years of always having Hannah or Izzy to talk to felt like I was trying to shepherd a clutter of feral cats into a pen. But I couldn’t trust Izzy anymore. It was just me and my cats and I would have to learn to be OK with that.

“We were friends, Izzy.”

“So what, now we have to be enemies because we disagreed on one thing?” She put her hand over mine. “Nothing has changed between you and me.”