“You’re looking for an argument, and I’m not gonna give it to you,” Casey replied.
“I can’t believe you turned your back on me,” Regan said, unfazed. “We’ve been friends since kindergarten, and then you all of a sudden up and diss me hard because my ex-boyfriend told you to? Since when do you let anyone order you around? I mean, besides Ethan.”
“Watch it,” Casey warned.
Regan shook her head. “Whatever. I don’t even care about that. I care that my best friend in the entire universe dropped my ass like I matter for nothing!” She paused. “And why did you never give that note to Jeremy?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t ‘huh’ me,” Regan said. “The note. The note! The note I wrote to him in middle school asking him to be my friend.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Casey said, closing her locker door.
Regan whipped her hand out and grabbed Casey’s arm.
“Let. Go,” Casey warned. “Or I’ll get you suspended all over again.”
Regan threw up her hands. Did she want to sacrifice the rest of her soccer season and a potential scholarship?
“What’s happened to you?” she whispered. “You’re just evil now. An evil person.”
“I’m not evil. I just grew up.” Casey turned on her heel.
“Why didn’t you give him that note?” Regan screamed.
Casey ignored her and headed down the hall. Regan sprinted toward her, shoving herself between Casey and the classroom door.
“Move, Regan.”
“Why did you do that to me? Why did you lie about him? What was so awful about me wanting to be his friend?”
“Look at him! Why would you want to? I did you a freaking favor, bitch! Do you have any idea where you’d be right now had I not intervened? Soccer star? Pffsst!! Unlikely! You’d be a nobody!”
Regan’s hands trembled at her sides. Don’t you dare strike her. Everything’s over if you strike her.
“You wanna talk about perspective? You’re fucking the guy who threw black paint all over you,” Regan said.
Casey’s breathing came faster. She clenched her jaw and her books against her chest.
“You stole a friend from me. You stole years from me because of one lie,” Regan said.
“Take some responsibility, Regan. You could have been his friend at any time.”
“You told me he didn’t want that!”
“Yeah, well, you could have made him,” Casey said carelessly. “If you really tried. You were always good at getting the things you wanted.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that maybe I never wanted to be on the outside,” Casey said. “That I belonged here, right here, all along. That maybe you held me back.”
“You always wanted to be a fucking bitch? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Casey ignored her. “I was never in the right group until now. And I think that’s because I let you dictate my life, shove me into the space you wanted me to fit in. You didn’t ask me what I wanted. You never asked me what I wanted. It was all about you. All the time. Because you were loud and persistent and obnoxious. And I was your opposite, quieter, lesser half.”
Regan stood shell-shocked.
“So yeah, I lied about the stupid note. I made a decision for myself that day. I decided you were going to live the life I wanted to live since I’d spent so many years living yours. Seemed only fair.”
Silence.
“But I guess it wasn’t good enough for you. And that’s fine. It doesn’t have to be. But I’m not leaving just because you did. So, now, please get out of my way.”
The bell rang.
“Move, Regan.”
She stepped aside, still dazed. Still processing Casey’s words. Her brain moved sluggishly, working hard to register the reason for her best friend’s betrayal.
I dictated her life? she thought. I did? I thought she was happy.
“You going inside?” she heard above her and looked up. Jeremy smiled down at her.
She shook her head.
“You wanna ditch?” he offered.
She nodded, afraid if she opened her mouth she’d sob long and loud. She would need the release at some point, but now was not the time. Now was the time to take a deep breath. And shift.
***
That evening, Regan lay on her bed staring down at a piece of blank notebook paper. She needed to write out a list, to try and make sense of Casey’s earlier words. To discover if she was, in fact, a selfish friend.
She drew a line down the center of the page and labeled two categories: Things I Did Right and Things I Did Wrong. She paused, chewing on the end of her pen as she thought. A negative was the first to pop up in her brain.
Casey wanted to invite Catherine into our club, and I said no because she was friends with Brandon.
Regan scowled. “I still don’t like that girl.” She exhaled and added, “Buuuuut, Catherine was never mean to me. Or to Casey. And why was I the one who got to make the final decision? I wasn’t even President. Am I that bossy?”
She shook her head and moved to the left side of the page. She needed to feel better.
Punched Ethan in the nose after he threw black paint all over my best friend.
She smiled smugly. “Yeah, that’s right. I defend my friends.”
But the idea couldn’t mask her compunction—the shame growing slowly inside that suggested she was an egocentric friend. That everything was on her terms. That she never allowed Casey the freedom to make her own choices. That she wanted ultimate control over their friendship because she was certain she knew best.
“Who knows anything at twelve years old?” she asked aloud. “Buuuuut . . .”
She scribbled more.