I gathered my stuff and went to the library. Emily wasn’t there. I knew she’d never break the rules and leave campus for lunch, which meant she’d done the unthinkable—gone to the cafeteria.
Though I hadn’t been there for years, I worked up the nerve to step inside. Sure enough, Emily was sitting at a table with Logan and his musician friends.
I knew I should leave. Emily had made her point. But didn’t I deserve an explanation? Couldn’t she have given me some warning before deciding to end our tradition of eating behind the gym?
I walked over to the table. Emily was in the middle of a conversation with a girl who had pink-and-green hair. She didn’t even notice me.
“Hey. Can I talk to you?”
She looked up with a guilty expression, which somehow made the whole situation worse. “Can it wait until later?”
“No,” I said, hopefully sounding more firm than I felt.
Emily excused herself from the table and followed me to the side of the cafeteria, where we were mostly out of everyone’s earshot.
“So you’re just ditching me at lunch now?” I blurted.
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh?”
“Look,” Emily said. She twirled her necklace around one finger. She bit her lip. “I just think we could use a little space from each other. Just for a little while.”
My stomach dropped. “Why?”
“I meant what I said the other night. I feel like our friendship is always about you. You decide what we do and what we talk about and who we dislike. I’ve spent most of my life being forced to participate in schemes I don’t want any part of.”
“Like what?”
“Like when you thought the world was going to end and wanted me to steal supplies from my parents’ store.”
Oh yeah.
“Or when you were convinced that there was a serpent monster in Tappan Lake.”
“I was a little kid,” I protested.
“You were twelve. And that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“That I’m not like you, and you can’t accept that. You want me to help you on your missions and listen to your thoughts, never stopping to think that maybe I have my own.”
I could feel my face burning, though I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or shame. “I never meant for it to be like that.”
“I know you didn’t. It probably never even occurred to you. That’s the problem, Hawthorn.”
“So, are we just not friends anymore?” I sounded pitiful. I felt pitiful. “Is this, like, a breakup?”
“We’ll always be friends. I just need some space.”
“OK,” I said. It wasn’t OK though. It was one of the most un-OK things that had ever happened to me.
Emily hugged me and walked back to her seat next to Logan. I left the cafeteria and pretty much decided I never wanted to go back there.
? ? ?
After school, I knocked on the door to Enzo’s apartment and shifted back and forth, waiting for him to answer. I started to think he wasn’t home, but then the door swung open.
“Hawthorn. Hey.”
“Can I come in?”
A record was playing loudly. A man with a deep voice sang about love tearing people apart. Enzo turned the music down, and the lyrics became a whisper.
My eyes went from him to an easel that was set up in the corner. It was turned so I couldn’t see the canvas.
“Are you painting again?” I asked.
“Trying.”
“Can I look?”
“Not until it’s done.” Enzo pulled his tobacco from his pocket and rolled a cigarette. I wandered over to the bed and sat down.
“Were you ever going to call me again?”
“What?” Enzo asked with a half laugh.
“You ditched me at the party. It annoyed me. So I decided not to call you.”
“What are you doing here then?”
“Don’t tease me.” I pulled my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “I needed a friend and didn’t want to wait for you to call me. Which is why I’m wondering if you ever would have.”
Enzo took a deep drag from his cigarette and exhaled smoke toward the ceiling. “Don’t make our friendship like that. There don’t need to be rules.”
“Can I have a cigarette?” I’d never smoked before, but at that moment, I wanted to feel like someone other than me.
Enzo raised his eyebrows and passed me his cigarette instead. I took a drag. I could feel the burn all the way down my throat, like inhaling sandpaper. But I didn’t cough, so that was something.
Enzo sat on the bed and put an ashtray between us. “I would have called.”
“Good.”
We passed the cigarette back and forth in silence. I listened to the music. A new song started, just as depressing as the last.
“Saturday was the full moon,” I told Enzo.
“I know,” he said.
“We should probably check the woods. There might be some new clues.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
And just like that, we were OK again.
Chapter 21
Welcome, October