Harper sighs, probably disappointed that she missed her window of opportunity to bust me on my Luke-induced staring problem. “The real deal on Mal is that she heard Peter Paras is bringing some hot Australian guys from his soccer travel league to the party.”
“I should have known,” I say and smile. Mal’s continent goal. She’s got Africa and Europe crossed off the list after making out with a South African swimmer in town for a competition and a French boy while on vacation. She’s been saying that Australia and South America are her next big gets.
“Well, Luke certainly got you to change your mind. No surprise there,” Harper says, her voice teasing, her eyes on my face, careful not to look down at the frog.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, my eyes back on our lab notes. I scribble down the location of the heart and lungs.
“Oh, stop trying to BS me,” Harper says, cocking her head to the side. “It’s me you’re talking to. Seriously, what’s going on with you guys?”
“Nothing. We’re RGFs,” I reply, staring hard at my notes and instinctively pushing my lips into a disinterested pout. I refuse to give Harper a reaction. But I can feel my heart beating in my ears. Not fluttering either. Pounding.
“RGF? What?” Harper’s nose, eyes, and brow squish together as she tries to decode my abbreviation.
“RGFs. Really. Good. Friends,” I say and look up at her. Her eyebrows arch sharply over her hazel eyes as she shakes her head slightly, not believing a word I’m saying.
That’s not a lie. Luke and I are really good friends. He’s probably the first real close friend I’ve ever had. Granted, I haven’t been in one place long enough to make too many close friends. We’ve been in New Albany just over a year and that’s our longest run in a new city since I started high school. But it’s not just the length of our post. From day one, we just sort of fit together.
I love Malika and Harper. They make me happy. They really do. But there’s something about being with them that makes me feel lonely too. I can never really be myself with them. I can’t really be myself with anybody. It’s ingrained in me to lie, to stick to the cover story and blend in no matter what. And I feel guilty about that. Because they think they know me so well. They think because they can finish my sentences they know everything about me. But they only know Reagan MacMillan; the quick-talking, tough girl I created. Sometimes I wonder which parts of my personality are really me and which ones belong to the pretender.
But with Luke, it’s different. There’s nothing forced or strategic about our friendship. He’s gotten to see glimpses of the real Reagan. And that scares the shit out of me. Because I know how quickly it could all be torn away from me. How quickly I could be torn away from him. There’s no such thing as a happy ending for a girl like me.
“Come on, Reagan,” Harper says quietly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Luke is still out of earshot. “You guys are so cute together. He broke up with Hannah months ago. I don’t know what you’re waiting for. I can just tell by the way he looks at you he—”
“Harper,” I interrupt as her words compress my lungs, making each breath labored and painful. I don’t want to hear this. “He doesn’t look at me like anything. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“You know some things are worth ruining,” Harper replies, reaching out to touch my arm with her fingertips, her nails painted a shade darker than my gray cardigan. “You can’t tell me you haven’t at least thought about starting a relationship with him or maybe—”
“There is no relationship,” I cut her off again, pulling my arm away a little faster than I meant to. I snap new gloves onto my hands, pick up the scalpel, and slice into the frog’s heart. “Next stomach.”
“Next stomach?” Harper repeats, scrunching her forehead.
“Next subject.”
FOUR
I push open the science building’s heavy door and walk out onto one of the school’s smaller quads. New Albany High School looks more like a college campus with its deep redbrick buildings, towering white columns, domed roofs, and manicured lawns. I glance at the giant clock on the gym and it reads 2:10. Love end-of-the-day free periods. I have just enough time to finish my calculus homework in the library before the final bell.