I hung up and chucked my phone across the bed, not knowing what to do. The peculiar detachment that had haunted me in my earlier teen years soaked through me like rain, and zipped me up so tight I felt I almost floated to the ceiling. I huddled my legs to my chest and stared at the wall for a good two hours.

Amy was surprised to hear from me. “Oh my God, Fern, it’s been a while! How the hell are you?”

“Can I come over?”

She recognized it in my voice right away, and despite our drifting, she reactivated. “Of course. Kim’s here. We’re just messing around doing our makeup. Come right away. Is everything OK?”

“Not really,” I said robotically.

Amy sighed. “It’s Jessica, isn’t it?”

My phone shook by my ear. “How do you know?”

“Just an educated guess. Come over.”

Two hours later, my hair had been straightened within an inch of its life with this new contraption called “a GHD.” My heavy eyeliner was replaced with frosted pink eye shadow, and my lips were a matching glossy pink. I sat awkwardly on Amy’s bed in a borrowed miniskirt, drinking a Malibu and Diet Coke they’d made me.

“I still can’t get over what a fucking slut she is,” Kim said, as she lowered her lips onto her neon straw. She was having the best day of her life. All her resentment about Jessica finally able to unleash like a burst fire hydrant. “But I’m so sorry she did that to you, Fern. Like, I didn’t know her very well when she took Matt away from me. But you guys have been best friends for years, and she stole your boyfriend.”

“That’s the thing though, he wasn’t my boyfriend. I only even kissed him once.”

Kim’s eyes were glassy with the early signs of drunk. “But you were in love with him,” she said, dramatically.

“I’m not sure...”

“IN LOVE with him.”

Amy gave me her Kim-is-a-bit-mental-yes look, and reached out to take my hand. “I know you guys were super close,” she said. “That must really sting. I’m really glad you’ve come over though. We’ve missed you at school.”

Feeling her fingers in mine, I realized I’d missed her too. It was nice to be doing all the things my college friends ridiculed people for doing. Watching The OC box set on her TV, dancing around the bedroom to “Crazy In Love,” planning to try and get into the local nightclub, Selfridges, which my lot always scorned and always called “Sell Fridges” because they said it was full of chavs.

“Thanks guys. You’ve been amazing. Who else is coming tonight?”

Kim’s eyes went even wider. “The whole gang! It will be like a reunion with you there. Matt’s coming!”

“Oh, is he now?”