She hums like she knows I’m being coy and I realize the next step in this conversational waltz is for me to ask her about her weekend. But I already know. And I feel weird about that. Should I tell her I know? Or just wait for her to tell me? Caitlin and I aren’t friends, per se, but working on debate these past few weeks, we’ve become friendly. If I’m really doing the whole friendship thing with Caleb, who’s to say I can’t have more than one?

“I heard the dance was pretty eventful.” I swallow, peanut butter sticking in my throat, colliding with the anxiety that’s already balled up there.

“You did?” She looks up from the notecards and I give a sort of sympathetic grimace to let her know I’m on her side. “Oh, Caleb told you?”

“Yeah.” I nod, swallowing again, trying to get the peanut butter down. “He felt pretty bad about the whole thing.”

I shouldn’t be spilling Caleb’s feelings to her but I need to talk about it with someone, anyone. I’m lost and confused and worried that everything Caleb and I were building is ruined, and I need a little perspective.

“He shouldn’t,” she snaps, before sighing, her shoulder slumping. “Henry was the one being the jerk. Caleb did what he thought was right. He probably didn’t need to take it quite as far as he did but…”

“At least it didn’t lead to an actual fight,” I finish.

“Right.” She nods. “Though it was pretty close. If Caleb wasn’t going to hit him, I honestly might have. It’s good the chaperones intervened when they did.” She looks uncharacteristically downtrodden and I feel that powerless feeling again.

“I don’t think anyone would blame you for laying into Henry,” I offer. “In fact, a good portion of the student body might throw you a parade.”

She smiles a bit at that, pushing aside her sandwich to work the ponytail magic on her hair. I’m about to steer the conversation to the work we need to get done, but Caitlin’s frowning down at her notes, her mouth twitching like she wants to say something.

“You and Caleb are friends, right?” she asks, looking up at me.

“Um, yeah.” I nod, playing it cool, even though my stomach is swooping at the thought that other people see Caleb and me as friends. It’s not all just made up in my head. Caitlin has noticed. “Yeah, we hang out sometimes.”

“Do you ever—” She stops herself but it’s not like when Caleb does it. She’s not swallowing around something that wants to burst free, she’s being tactical. Years of fierce competition for the top spot in the class have made me very familiar with Caitlin’s tactical face.

“Do I ever what?” I press, completely unable to guess where this could be going.