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lame.
    Joy turns around. Maybe I got through to her. “No. All you care about is being a stupid apex triangle point.”
    I gasp. That is not all I care about, though I do think it’s pretty cool. I shift the car into park and open up my door.
    â€œYou’re totally wrong,” I say.
    Joy looks at me like she couldn’t care less. How did this situation, a simple trip to the nut shop, escalate to the point where my closest friend is sobbing on her front lawn and spitting insults at me? I’m never going to the mall again.
    â€œI’m not wrong. And I’m not dumb either.”
    â€œI never said you were dumb.”
    â€œBut you think I am,” she says emphatically.
    I do think this. But I don’t admit it. “I don’t think you’re dumb at all.” For some reason I close my eyes while I’m talking.
    â€œYou’re lying. That’s why you closed your eyes!”
    I open my eyes. “No.”
    â€œI am so done with this. Ruthann. Tigerettes. You. I’m over it!”
    Me? How did things get here? How can she be over me? “Wait.” But she doesn’t wait.
    I watch Joy slip behind an ornate white door, her wispy blond hair trailing behind her. Then she’s gone, swallowed by her house. I stare at that door, hoping it might swing back open, allowing for a more levelheaded Joy to emerge. But no. She’s not coming out.
    As I drive home, I feel sad and defeated. Tears burn behind my eyes, and I try hard to push everything to a place deep inside of me, beneath my skin, beneath my bones. High school shouldn’t be this hard. Last year sucked because it was boring. Sadie and I sat around as certified outsiders, ridiculing everyone. And now this year sucks even worse. My life feels impossible, and it’s only October.
    I walk through the front door and both of my parents are seated on the couch. They look up at me as I stride to my bedroom, refusing to make small talk.
    â€œNo milk shake?” my mom asks.
    â€œNo,” I say. “The mall sucked so bad that I forgot.”
    â€œShe’s dating,” my mother explains to my father.
    I stop walking and turn around. “I’m not dating.”
    â€œDoes this mean your horseback trip got canceled?” my father asks.
    I turn around. “No.” Why would my father say such a thing? I would be devastated if my date with Tate was canceled.
    â€œDon’t you want some dinner?” asks my mom.
    I don’t feel like eating. I don’t feel like talking. I just feel rotten. “Maybe later.”
    I walk into my room and open my jewelry box. I take out a pearl ring and slip it on. I crawl into bed and turn it over and over around my finger. This was Sadie’s ring. She has no idea that I took it. It’s one of the few things I really regret taking. But it happened. I snagged it one day and never knew how to give it back. And it feels wrong to let it rest hidden in a drawer. A ring should be worn. Even if it’s just to bed. I turn it over again, thinking of Sadie. And Joy. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this defeated. But the year of making my mark is still repairable. Life is long. I can fix my friendship with Joy. And probably Sadie too. Deep down, they know I’m a good friend. I just need to show them.

Friday, October 4
    I am not a triangle point. I’m clumped in the middle, struggling through practice. In the gymnasium the air feels swampy. And even though it’s a brisk temperature outside, inside on the basketball court, where we’re going over and over and over our routine, it feels ridiculously hot. Like summer in Florida. Or the Gobi desert. Normally when things get challenging, I have an ally. But Joy didn’t even come today. I wonder if she’ll quit the Tigerettes. She seemed genuinely hurt. Should she? Should I ? Ruthann puffs on a whistle, signaling that it’s time to form our first position. She