“I told her – Wren!” Avery snarls. “Wren, Wren, Wren, and then after Wren she could uselessly go after Jack all she wanted.”

“What are you talking about?”

Avery shoots me a look. “You saw how they got along at the bowling alley. Even Jack noticed. Outside of school, where she isn’t popular and he isn’t a dork, they’re great together. Wren’s had a crush on her forever.”

It dawns on me then.

“You’re using Kayla!” I snarl. “Oh my god, you’re using her to get the funding for your French club trip to the mountains! You’re using your friend!”

“It’s not just for me, okay?” Avery glowers a hole into my windshield. “Kayla will go. And so will Sophia. It’s the last chance I have, alright? The last chance I have to…to make it up to her. The surgery might not be now, but it’ll be soon. Jack told me.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact you’re forcing Kayla to flirt with a guy she doesn’t like to get what you want - ”

“Did he tell you?” Avery interrupts me. “Did Jack tell you how long Sophia has?”

I swallow, hard, and for once my famed motor mouth comes to a standstill. Out of gas. Out of things to say.

Avery looks out the window at the passing forest. “France. We pretended when we were kids that we lived in France. Princesses. That’s what we’d play in her backyard. Princesses of France. And she’s got a book – I’m sure she still has it. We put it together. Maybe she burnt it. A scrapbook, of the things we wanted to do when we grew up. It’s full of French stuff. She was taking French, right before –”

She cuts off as I pull into her driveway.

“Avery, can’t you please, please tell me what happened to you and Sophia and Jack and Wren in middle school? Please?”

Avery’s green eyes flicker over me, as if she’s judging me.

“You’re like him, you know.”

“Say what?”

“You’re like him,” she repeats. “Jack. You’re different. People can feel it. That’s why you two are at odds, probably. You’re so similar. Like two magnets repelling each other.”

“Avery, what happened –”

“Back then I still liked Jack. I was like Kayla – obsessed. Sophia and Jack were…it was obvious to everyone they were in love. Meant to be together. I couldn’t stand it. So I arranged it. I bribed some of the low-wage guys who moved crates in my Mom’s shipping warehouse. Dock workers. Huge idiot guys who’d just go out and get drunk all the time. I bribed them. I did it. I was a stupid kid and I did it, and now I pay the price for it every day.”

My stomach curdles. But before it can shrivel in on itself, Avery opens the car door and walks out. Into her house. Away from me. Away from the truth.

When I get home, I throw together something easy – ham sandwiches. I take one to Mom, who’s reading in the living room, and she smiles and hugs me.

“You look so sad today, honey. Are you alright?”

I force a smile, but today it feels brittle. The conviction isn’t behind it. Nothing is behind it - just empty lies and too-full pain.

“I’m fine.”

“New school, all that new homework, new friends. And then me on top of it all! It was definitely not as stressful at your aunt’s. You must be exhausted.”

I shake my head fervently. “I’m happy to be here. Honestly. I’m just happy I can be here to help you.”

She gets up and kisses my head, murmuring into my hair.

“I’m so lucky to have you.”

As I’m leaving to head upstairs, Mom calls me back.

“I saw that girl again today. The one with red hair. I finally remembered where I saw her – she goes to my clinic. I’ve stood behind her in line at the receptionist’s – she’s prescribed the same medicine I’m getting.”

“For…?”

“Depression.”

She says it delicately, softly, but it’s so much better than what she used to do – pretend nothing was wrong with her at all, that she didn’t need meds.

“She goes to my school,” I say.

“I know. She’s so young to be on medication. It’s tragic.”

“I’m gonna go upstairs and finish up my applications.”

“Alright, honey. Good luck! Knock ‘em dead.”

I escape to my room and shut the door behind me. The most popular girl in school takes anti-depressants instead of molly or coke or the usual party drug suspects. The most popular girl in school set in motion a chain of events that echoes still today.

I’m getting closer to finding out what happened, and winning the war once and for all.

But do I still want to know? Do I still want to war? Jack defeated me totally today. He pulled out my every secret and laid it bare, chiseling it with a hammer of cruelty. I came to Ohio to escape, to get a fresh start, not to have everything brought up for people to see. He knows. And he could use it against me at any time. How could I have ever thought I liked him? There’s nothing there in my heart for him but cold grief, now. Grief and anger. I should’ve been expecting his savagery when I dabbled with Sophia’s letters. Avery warned me. She warned me he gets touchy when people reach into the past, and I ignored it. I should’ve told her to get the letter herself. I should’ve never started this war.

That’s what you get for trusting someone.

I should’ve never trusted Nameless.

I was an idiot for trusting Jack with my feelings, that night at the party.

I clutch at Ms. Muffin and curl up on the bed.

Ugly.

Ugly, ugly.

Is that what you thought this was? Love?

Dark hair. Dark eyes. The smell of a cigarette. A crooked smile that used to make my knees quake and my head go fuzzy, becoming something sinister and evil.  

I don’t fall in love with fat, ugly girls. No one does.

Ugly.

Ugly.

Ugly girl.

Ms. Muffin’s black bead eyes watch me with no pity.

Maybe I’ll love you. Maybe, if you hold still.

 -11-

I watch Isis leave through the front door. Her thin shoulders are hunched. She’s sniffing away the remnants of tears, fists clenched at her sides.

She broke into my house. She’s inching herself closer to Sophia to hurt me. She is a nuisance. I should feel nothing for a nuisance like her. Especially not the gentle flame of sympathy that licks at the back of my mind. An urge to prove her wrong, that I’m not like the scum that hurt her. An urge to rip the bastard’s balls off and stuff them down his own throat until he chokes.

An urge to protect her.

I scoff and turn away from the window. Avery’s sitting in Isis’s car. It’s typical of Avery to get others to do her dirty work for her, but Isis still agreed to it. She’s halfly at fault.

Avery deserves nothing, no part of Sophia. She doesn’t deserve to even read the words Sophia writes.

I sigh and run my hands through my hair. I stink of the dogshit someone – Isis, probably – threw at the car. I ran it through a car wash, but it was stubborn. Just like Isis. The girl’s a mystery. Most people fall open like books for me to read within a few minutes. Stray animal hairs on their jacket - pet lover. Over sympathetic. Yellowed teeth – coffee or cigarettes or bad hygiene – all signs of an addiction to punishing oneself. Everyone is simple. No one bothers to hide themselves well. They put on perfume and makeup and designer clothes, but it’s a superficial shield that I can read. It takes me minutes to know who they are, if they’re particularly difficult, a few hours. People in Northplains, Ohio, aren’t exactly complicated and duplicitous. They tend to stick to malls and keg stands, gossip and football games.

But then she came. The new girl - a complete mystery. Most new people settled quickly, but not her. She stood out, with no friends except over-eager Kayla. She joined no clique, treated everyone with the same brusque, jovial, self-effacing humor. She isn’t afraid of being alone.

She never dropped her guard - her smiles and her jokes. It’s an act, a thick, hard shield forged after years of pain. I know that now. But still, she didn’t falter beneath it. She held it up even as I kissed her, even as the pictures of her old self circulated and the whispers about her turned vicious. She held strong. She took the blows, and she struck back at me with more fervor than ever.