It’s been four days since I got back from Boston. Four days since I woke up and realized I blew up my life. Four days since I lied to my mother, when she asked why we were back so soon.

Four days since I’ve heard Garrett’s voice, or seen his face.

He’s called me every day. I don’t answer.

So here it is, Wednesday, and I’ve just sent him yet another noncommittal text about how I’m really busy this week.

The phone rings, but this time it’s Bri. “Get up, lazy,” she says by way of a greeting.

“I’m up, thanks. Great motivational speech.”

“When I’ve got my degree, I’ll get paid fat bank for that, I’ll have you know. Get off your bed and go get a shower. We’re going out today.”

I sigh. “I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care what you want. You’re done pouting for now.”

“I’m fine, Bri.”

“Yeah, and I’m Kylie Jenner. Shut up. I’ll pick you up in an hour. If you’re not ready, I get to pick your outfit.” She hangs up.

That’s enough to make me get up. If I don’t comply, she’ll just steamroll over me—and she will pick out my clothes, and I’ll end up wearing something horrible when she drags me out.

I force myself to shower, and I’m at least presentable by the time she arrives. She looks sleek and pretty in a sleeveless blue sundress with her long blond hair french-braided. I can never sit still long enough to do that with my hair.

Her first words are: “You look tired.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”

“Yeah, you’re gorgeous, blah, blah. But you look tired. Have you been sleeping? Are you still upset about—”

“Bye, Mom!” I shout, and start to push Bri out the front door. “We’ll be back later!”

“Bye, Mrs. Lowell!” Bri yells over my shoulder. Outside, she whispers, “You didn’t tell her?”

“Tell my mother I shagged Garrett Crawford all night in an expensive hotel room he paid for, because I had too much to fucking drink?” I push her ahead of me down the stairs. “No, Bri, as it happens, I did not lose my goddamn mind and tell my mother that.”

She winces. “Sorry.”

We walk around the side of the house and out front to Bri’s car. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“I need to do some shopping,” she says, “and even though you’re a sad mess, I can’t go clothes shopping without your valuable second opinion.”

“Really?” I say. “That’s weird, since you’ve bought at least 80% of your wardrobe without me.”

“Well, I’ve got eyes, and can generally see if something fits me,” she admits. “But you’ll have a better view of my ass. And anyway, you gotta get out of the damn house.” We climb in; she starts the car and pulls out. “Has he called?”

“Every day.”

“What does he say?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I don’t answer.”

Bri sighs. “Well, that’s mature. Tell him you’ll still be friends and then ignore him.”

“I text him,” I say, annoyed at having to defend myself. “I tell him I’m tired, and like that. Not no, just not right now.”

She lets out her breath. “Why don’t you want to talk to him? I thought you were fine with everything that happened?”

“I am. I just need to get my head straight.”

Bri pulls up to a stop light and gives me the stink eye. “You told me, over and over, that this wouldn’t hurt your friendship, and everything was fine. What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

I sigh. “Everything is fine. I just need some time.” I couldn’t keep the truth from her that morning in the hotel room, but I also can’t tell her all of it. I don’t even understand it myself, and the parts I do understand are too personal to share right now, even with Bri.

But every time Garrett calls, every time I see his name on my phone, I don’t want to talk to him. I can’t. Tears fill my eyes—every time!—and I have to ignore the call.

“Can we table any Garrett conversation?” I ask. “I’m not sure where I am with things right now, and talking about it until I’m ready for my ears to fall off isn’t going to help.”

“That’s such shit, Beck. You just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Maybe,” I say. There’s certainly an element of that. “When I’m ready, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Fair enough.” She nods and turns on the radio. We listen to music as she gets on the highway and heads for South Portland and the mall. I feel steadier when we pull off the interstate and onto the mall access road. Bri heads for the main entrance and snags a parking place pretty close to the doors.

“What are you shopping for?” I ask as we get out.

“I need new everything, and it all needs to be amazing.”

“Everything?” I ask with a smile. “For all occasions?”

She nods. “No matter what, I need to look like a goddess at all times.” There’s a determined look on her face as she pushes the doors open and beelines for H&M.

“What’s up, Bri?” I feel bad because, seeing her expression, I realize I’ve been a shitty friend. I have no idea why Bri is in search of a new wardrobe, and I should know this. “You got a hot date you haven’t told me about?”

Her face goes pink. “When have I been able to tell you anything? You shut yourself off.”

I sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Bri. I’m a jerk. I have been since the end of the school year.”

“Well, it hasn’t exactly been the best beginning to your summer,” she says, her expression softening. “First Sam, and now this thing with Garrett.”

I hold up a hand. “We aren’t talking about him.”

“No, we’re not.” She smiles. “Come on, I’ve been saving money, and haven’t done any shopping lately. Remember: goddess level!”

Laughing, I take her arm and we head into H&M. This is exactly what I need.

Two hours later, we’re loaded down with her bags. True to plan, everything she’s gotten so far is definitely at goddess level. I laughed so hard while she was trying things on. If she came out and it wasn’t goddess, I’d tell her so by calling it something else: scullery maid. Trash collector. Barnacle. It feels like forever since I’ve just been silly.

With Bri’s debit card weeping softly in her wallet, we decide to cap the outing with a latte at the overpriced mall coffee kiosk. This is what having best friends is all about.

I’ve had days like this with Garrett, too. Just going out mini-golfing or to the beach, laughing easily. Being friends. I have a terrible feeling those days are over for us, and it makes my throat close up with sadness.

I shove thoughts of him aside and sip my latte, because I meant it when I said he is not a topic today. All the thinking about him in the world isn’t going to solve anything right now, and today is just too nice to ruin that way.

So I shove Garrett to the back of my mind. Plenty of time to think about him later.

I’m busy being pleased with myself at this mature turn of events, when Brianna curses under her breath.

“What?”

“Oh, Beck.” She frowns, then points behind me with her chin.

I turn around and feel like I’ve been poleaxed.

On the other side of the food court, hand in hand with … some skank, is Sam. My ex.

He sees me just as I see him, and stops to stare. The girl he’s with seems clueless and keeps walking. But when she realizes he’s not walking with her anymore, she turns, then looks around to see what it is he’s so focused on. She sees me, and her face darkens.

Great. The hate she’s throwing is making it all the way across the food court completely intact. Just what I need.

“Oh, this could get ugly,” Bri mutters.

I break eye contact and turn my back on him. “It’s fine,” I say. “There’s no reason for anything to get ugly. He’s obviously where he wants to be, and with whom.”

“If looks could kill,” Bri says. “She was not happy.”

“Well, don’t you think that’s pretty ridiculous? What’s the point of petty jealousy? He’s the one who broke up with me.” The hurt of that whole thing wells up again. Like I need that, on top of everything else.

“Breaking up is not the end of the world, Beck.”

Bri’s last boyfriend, Ted, refused to move in with her when she suggested it last winter because “moving in leads to getting married.” And, apparently, he’s never going to get married.

Bri was blindsided. He somehow managed to keep that tidbit to himself for two solid years—which, to be fair, she should have noticed his answers to questions about marriage and the future mostly amounted to noncommittal shrugs—and she was utterly shocked that he saw literally no future for them. She really cared about him, and took some time to think about it and decide if it was a dealbreaker.

It was. A week later, she broke up with him.

I think she’s held it together pretty well, considering they were together for two years. Here I am blubbering over me and Sam, which was like six months. And then me and Garrett, which was a whole night.

Not even the same.

“No, it’s not, and I’m sorry,” I say. “I know the Ted thing was hard on you.”

“It was.” She waves it away dismissively. “But it was ages ago. Sam’s recent, and I know you didn’t expect it.”

“I thought…. Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.”

“You glowed with him. I’ve never seen you like that with anyone else except—” She bites her lip.

“What?”

“Well, have you thought that maybe Sam was right?”

It takes me a moment. “About Garrett? Are you crazy?”

She shrugs. “Well, let’s look at you. You were heartbroken over Sam—more than he deserves, in my opinion, but okay. And he says this ridiculous thing about Garrett, which we have quite a laugh about, right?” She takes a sip of her latte. “But next thing I know, you go ahead and try Garrett on for size after all.”

“Bri—”

“I know, I know. We weren’t going to talk about him, but this is important. Anyway, you cut loose and end up sleeping with Garrett. And now that you’re not talking with him, or seeing him, you’re heartbroken all over again. You forget, I’ve been your friend for a long time. I know you. And I know what I’m seeing.”

“You don’t know anything,” I say, putting my coffee down on the table. “I’m going to get a drink of water.”

I stomp over to the counter where they keep a water pitcher and angrily pour myself a cup, spilling all over my hand in the process.

Damn it.

I am not heartbroken over Garrett. I’m just a little confused. My heartbreak—that’s all Sam. Seeing him with some other chick like fourteen seconds after he dumped me, that hurts. It sure hurts my pride, anyway. Especially since the new girl is a cute little blonde. The complete opposite of me. I’m not a giant or anything, but she looked like a little pixie girl.

I sit back down, not meeting Brianna’s eyes.

She reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Come on, Beck. Seriously. No guy is worth all this heartbreak. And you wouldn’t have it if you were honest with yourself.”

“I am honest with myself. It hurts to see Sam move on so fast. Plus” —I couldn’t say it to anyone else, but Bri will understand— “I was kind of hoping she’d be ugly.”

She smiles and pats my hand. “And Garrett?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Beck—”

“Seriously, I don’t know! We’ve been friends forever. I’ve always liked how we are as friends.”

“What if you could be more?”

“Do you think I haven’t thought about it?” I ask. “Especially now?” I shake my head. “We’re friends, Bri. How can we be more than that, when he changes girlfriends like underwear?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Bri says. “I’ve been your friend almost as long as Garrett has. Guys and girls don’t usually stay friends like you guys have. You guys … if anyone has what it takes for the long haul—”

“It’s not like that. We just … made a mistake—a big mistake, that’s what Garrett said. You should have seen him, Bri. He couldn’t wait to get out of there.”

“You agreed with him. You told me so, that morning.”

“I know what I told you. And what I told him.”

“But?”

I shrug. “But nothing. What else is there to say?”

“Well, until you figure it out, not much.” She drains the last of her latte. “We should head back. My debit card is limp with exhaustion.”

I smile and follow her out of the food court. But her words echo in my head. Until I figure this out—until I know what I think, what I want—there really isn’t much else to say, is there?

So, the four text messages Garrett has sent while we’ve been shopping can go unanswered for now.