I’d left too many friends behind over the years, and I’d had too many years of awkward texts and strained phone calls, in which you tried to connect with someone you’d once beensuchgood friends with, and now could barely find anything to say to. I found it would retroactively wreck your memories of the friendship—like soon you would have trouble recalling why you’d even gotten along so well with them in the first place. And so, somewhere around ninth grade, I’d decided I was just going to go. This meant not telling people I was leaving but always making sure to slip away after a fun, great time. Leave at a peak, when everything was wonderful. This way, the memories were of the best of a friendship. It didn’t slowly become a faint echo, a copy of a copy.
And sure, sometimes it got hard. Like leaving Washington. I knew the way things had ended there had not been ideal. And I could tell that I was really going to miss Harbor Cove and the friendship I’d built with Bryony. But this system had worked great for me for years—I wasn’t going to change things at the last minute just because the end was always hard.
And so I’d decided that I would just concentrate tonight on making sure it was a fantastic night for us—so that I could depart on a real high note.
Oscar ordered an espresso, despite Angelo reminding him that it always kept him up all night. Feeling like staying up all night was just what I wanted, I got a latte. Angelo, telling both of us that we were playing with fire, got a mint tea, and we all ordered the chocolate cake. It was delicious, and I’d nearly finished mine when I asked, “Did you know German chocolate cake doesn’t actually have anything to do with the country? It was invented by a man named Samuel German. The proper name is actually German’s chocolate cake.”
Oscar smiled at Angelo. “I knew we wouldn’t be able to make it through dinner without a fact.”
“What?” I said, laughing. “You know you love them.” I’d been collecting facts since I was little and discovered that I had a real memory for retaining them. It had never come in handy until the year we were in Arizona, and my quiz bowl team went all the way to Nationals. But I liked always having something at my fingertips, something to say on a big variety of subjects and places. This calmed me down, somehow. And the first thing I usually did when we moved somewhere was to find out a couple of obscure facts about it. It made me feel a little less like a tourist, someone who was just passing through.
“I just feel bad for this German guy,” Angelo said, reaching over to my plate to steal a bite. “They dropped the apostrophe and suddenly he’s not getting any credit.”
“That’s how the cake crumbles?” I tried.
Oscar shook his head. “Quit while you’re ahead, kid.”
I took a breath to reply just as my phone lit up with a series of texts.
BRYONY:
Hey I’m early! Outside whenever you’re done.
Say hi to A&O!
DISNEEEEEYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!
“I should get going,” I said, taking the last bite of chocolate cake and setting my fork down. Bryony was driving us to Harbor Cove High, where we’d get the buses that would take us to Disneyland. And the fact she was here meant that the night was about to begin. I pushed back from the table and hugged Oscar, then Angelo. “Bryony’s outside. She says hi. Thank you for dinner.”
“Thankyoufor being the best daughter ever,” Oscar said, starting to get misty again.
“Now he’s going to be overwroughtandovercaffeinated,” Angelo said with a sigh. “It’s not a good combination.” Then he smiled at me. “But have a great time tonight, kid. You’re back late, right?”
I nodded. “Grad Nite ends at two a.m.—so I’ll probably be home around three or three thirty.”
Angelo shook his head. “We’ll definitely be asleep.” He looked over at Oscar and sighed. “Well, I will be, at any rate.”
“Have fun,” Oscar said, wiping his eyes with his napkin. “See you in the morning!”
“Bye,” I said, giving them both a wave. Then I shouldered my bag and hurried out the doors of the restaurant—where my best friend was waiting for me.
Ihad not meant to become best friends with Bryony Tsai.
It had been my intention not to be close friends withanyoneat Harbor Cove. Not that I wanted to be enemies with anyone either—I just wanted to get through these last six months with very few attachments. And I was pretty sure flying solo was going to be easy to achieve. Who wanted to make a new friend the second semester of senior year? A friend they were just going to say goodbye to in six months? I’d figured everyone would be on the same page. I just hadn’t planned on Bryony. Or the exploding sink.
I’d been at Harbor Cove a week, and my plan seemed like it was on track. I’d met some people to chat with in my classes and had been floating between various tables and spots at lunch. I was being friendly with everybody, but not getting too close with any one group.
It was after PE, and I was taking my time getting ready in the locker room. I’d had enough credits that I’d been able to test out of taking a language, which meant I had a free period next. So, while everyone else got dressed in a rush and hurried back to their next class, I hadn’t been stressing about it. And I also thought I was alone in the locker room, so when I rounded the corner and saw a girl sitting on the floor, with her back against the lockers, I jumped in shock.
“Agh!” I yelped, then shook my head, trying to pull myself together and get my heart rate to calm down. “Sorry,” I amended quickly. That didn’t seem like a way anyone would want to be greeted. “I didn’t know anyone else was here.”
The girl looked up at me, and I could see that her face was tear?stained and puffy—she’d clearly been crying. I was pretty sure I recognized her from our gym class. “I’m not s-supposed to be here,” she said, wiping a tear away. She had dark brown hair with pink streaks threaded through it, and blunt, straight-across bangs. She was wearing a shirt that said, for some reason,LUCKY & CHARMED.
“Are you okay?” I asked, taking a step closer, worried that she was hurt. “Do you need help? Should I call someone?”
Our gym teacher had been scrolling through TikTok while we played volleyball, so I wasn’t sure she’d be particularly helpful in this—or any—situation, but shewasan adult, at least.
“No,” the girl said. “It’s okay. I’m just…” She drew in a shaky breath. “It’s just been a really bad day.”
