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sets the book down and grabs some pans. Mercedes and I have been in a lot of the average people classes together, the ones Garret is too smart for. Actually, it was average people math where Mercedes made her first Petition to Date Garret. It didn’t bother me as much as the other girls, so I invited her to lunch at Parker’s with us, where she had a wimpy salad with no bacon. Blasphemy. She and Garret were making out by the end of the week.
    “I’m not being an over-achiever. I’d just prefer not to be treated like a total idiot. I can follow an actual recipe.”
    “Oh, you can, huh?” She bites back a smile. “I’d like to see that. I don’t even care if we fail when you burn it all.”
    “Fine. Be right back.” I go to the fridge and grab the goods—ground meat, corn tortillas, garlic, peppers, onions, tomato, and lime. I rummage around for cilantro, and as luck would have it, there it is. The teacher must have at least a few over-achievers in her cooking classes. Either that or she has a lot of false hope.
    “You really know what to do with all that?” Mercedes asks.
    “Just stay out of my way, whine about Garret, and I won’t tell about you not helping.”
    She glares. “Fine.”
    I grab a knife and get chopping, which takes longer than usual because the blade is duller than plastic scissors. Mercedes doesn’t talk, but I can feel her looking at me. I wait for the dam to break and busy myself with the meat in the meantime.
    “All he said was that we’d grown apart,” she says as I put the hamburger in a skillet and throw in some seasoning. “I didn’t know anything was wrong. He never seemed unhappy. We never fought about anything. He…he…” She sniffles.
    “Sorry, Mercedes.” I break up the meat with a spatula. “He’s been acting weird lately. I don’t think I know any more than you do.”
    “But you’re his best friend!”
    I restrain the groan. Girls always assume that guy best friends talk about everything like girl best friends do. Well, we don’t. Garret tells me more than other people, but I definitely don’t know everything. I know that Keira has something to do with it, but she can’t be the only reason. He was going to break up with Mercedes before we met Keira. Skater girl just sped up the process.
    “And why do you think I’m his best friend?” I ask.
    She doesn’t answer. I grab the diced vegetables and throw them in with the meat. I add a little water and some flour to thicken the sauce, then go for the spice rack for more seasonings. Mercedes leans next to the stove. “Do you actually know what those taste like?”
    “Yeah, didn’t you ever taste the spices in your mom’s kitchen?” When my mom made her cooking resolution, she also bought a spice rack. After I discovered the wonders of cumin in the cooking class, I spent an afternoon smelling and tasting spices just because I was curious. How could you not want to know what something like coriander tastes like? Or thyme? Or oregano? Such weird names.
    “My mom’s kitchen is KFC.” Mercedes sighs. “I guess you’re his best friend because you keep your mouth shut.”
    I smile. “That’s one reason.”
    “Wish I could have just one friend like you, Russ.”
    I put a hand to my chest. “I’m not your friend? Ouch. After all the stupid classes we’ve been through, I thought I meant more to you!”
    “Shut up!” She punches my shoulder, but a smile creeps onto her lips. “You don’t have to make fun of me.”
    I turn the burner to low and then look right at her perfect face, the kind of face they put on billboards. Well, maybe not after so much crying. She’s lightened up enough for the pep talk. “I really am sorry, Mercedes. I’m sorry I can’t explain it to you, but please don’t wallow around because of this. You’re too good for that. You’re the hottest girl in school! If Garret can’t see that, then it’s his loss, right?”
    Her eyes well up with tears, and for a moment I worry