“What happened to When people tell you who they are, believe them?” I say, still waiting for a trapdoor to open in the floor. “All your actions told me,” she says, “is that you’re human. Which is good, because I don’t think I have it in me to be friends with someone who’s perfect. No more than I have it in me to be friends with someone who says one thing and does another ten times a month. I’m going to hurt you at some point too. I don’t want to, but it’ll happen. I have a kid! I have a whole life! Just like you. “But I don’t want to lose this friendship over one fight, just because I’m scared
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