When I confessed to Claire during lunch that Johnny had dropped me home, her pupils dilated so much I’d thought she was about to have a stroke. It was a confession I instantly regretted, considering she didn’t let the matter drop. If she wasn’t asking me questions about what we talked about, none of which I divulged, she was pointing him out in the halls or doodling S.L. hearts J.K. in our homework journals.
this is me as a friend
