I spend the weekend staring at my textbooks. I make a hundred flash cards and go through them a hundred times. I rewrite all my notes with my favorite purple pen.

I absorb nothing.

I try to sleep, but whenever I close my eyes, I see Miles. I see that look on his face, that desperation and pain that he's so sure he wants to handle alone. He lied a million times and he's still the only thing I can think about.

This is the end. Miles and I are over, forever, the end. Hell, we were never anything worth discussing. Not really.

It's better this way. He can go bullshit some other girl. I can focus all my attention on medical school. A guy would only get in the way.

Miles would only get in the way.

* * *

"Honey, you look like hell." Kara plops in the seat next to mine. "But you know I've got you covered."

She pulls a can of green tea out of her purse.

Sweet, sweet caffeine. Class is going to start in five minutes, and I need every ounce of attention I have for the lecture.

I press the can against my chest. The aluminum is so cold, and I've been hot all weekend. I don't know if it's anger, frustration, or the damn flu.

"I'm guessing your parents were difficult," she says.

"They put everything in Rosie's room in storage."

"That sucks."

"And her trophies. The family pictures. It's all gone. Everything. It's like being in some stranger's house with some stranger's parents." I pop open the can and take a greedy sip. I've learned plenty about caffeine—it takes twenty minutes to absorb into the bloodstream—but I feel like it's going straight to my brain. "Thanks. How was your weekend?"

"Saw my mom. Ate some food. Nothing worth discussing." A frown creeps onto her face.

There's something worth discussing. "We could talk about it anyway."

Kara turns to me. She's about to say something when Professor Rivers walks into the room. All chatter ceases.

She whispers, "I'd rather talk about you and Miles."

I nod to the professor.

Kara shakes her head. She opens her notebook and scribbles a message: Something happened, something bad. I can tell from the look on your face. You don't have to pretend you're fine. Whatever it was, you don't have to deal with it yourself. I want to help, even if that means watching Star Wars fifty times.

I nod and mouth thank you. Kara raises her eyebrows, a real talk to me now dammit kind of look.

I motion to the professor.

"This is an elective for you," she says.

"And I need to maintain a good GPA."

"Your senior-year GPA won't factor into your med school apps."

"If I apply this year," I say.

"Since when are you even considering a gap year?"

The guy sitting next to me slaps my desk. He leans in towards Kara and me. "Could you two please shut up?"

Kara flips him off. I suppress a smile. She really is a great friend.

She picks up her pen and scribbles something else.

You can't keep dodging a conversation with me. What are you hiding from?

"Nothing," I say.

"Hey! Quiet," the guy says.

Kara turns the page, writes FUCK YOU, and holds it up to the guy.

"Want me to call Professor Rivers?" he asks.

She rolls her eyes.

"We can talk after class," I say.

"Then, after class, you say you need to study, and you disappear, and you cancel our brunch date to avoid this damn conversation."

"I won't do that."

The guy leans in. "Would you please shut your big mouths?"

Kara snaps. "Hey! My best friend and I are going through something. So why don't you mind your own damn business?"

A few students around us turn. Even the professor notices. His eyes go straight to Kara.

"I know it's tough to come back after a break, but let's get our eyes on the screen, huh?" He presses a button to change to the next slide.

Kara tears a sheet of paper from her notebook. She fishes through her bag, pulls out a pen, and slams it on my desk.

Write it down if you have to, but tell me why you look like hell. It's not just about your parents and your sister. It's more than that.

She mouths now.

I scribble on the paper: I don't want to talk about it.

She writes: At least tell me what happened with Miles.

Fine. I write two words: It's over.

"More than that," she whispers.

"That's it."

"That's obviously not it, but fine. This is the friendship you want to have—that's what we'll have."

The annoying guy leans in, but she cuts him off.

"I'm fucking leaving, okay?" Kara shoves her things into her bag, pushes out of her seat, and makes for the door.

She's leaving ten minutes into class.

Screw it. I shove my stuff into my bag and follow Kara out the door.

There are a few students in the hallway, staring at their books, but it's otherwise empty.

I follow Kara towards the front door. "I don't want to talk about Miles, but we can still talk about other stuff."

She pushes the door open and plops on the nearest bench.

I sit next to her, resting my head on her shoulder. "I don't want to fight."

"Me either," she says.

"I'm sorry I've been distant."

"It's okay," she says. "I have a lot of stuff to deal with the next two weeks. Then it's finals. We can meet up after that and watch some dumb movie and eat too much popcorn." Kara shifts so she's looking at me. "If you want to talk, I'm here. Any time, day or night, okay?"

I nod.

"Is there any chance you're going to call me?"

"It's possible."

Kara squeezes me. "Promise anyway."

"I promise."

* * *

By the weekend, my concentration is back. I spend all day Saturday studying. It's about time for a break when there's a knock on the door.

My heart thuds against my chest. For a split second, I'm face to face with that awful feeling—hope.

I push it away. There's no way it's Miles.

I get up and open the door. It's Kara.

She brandishes a takeout bag. "I brought sushi. I know it's not as good as a hot, rock star boyfriend, but there are about four orders of salmon sashimi." She sets the bag on the counter and fixes two plates.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"You're my best friend. I need a break. You're moping. Adds up to us going out." She looks at me. "Did you eat dinner?"

"It's still early."

"It's almost ten." She sets a can of green tea on the counter and motions to it. "You have soy sauce?"

"In the fridge. But you know I eat my sashimi plain."

"Yes, but I'm not as hardcore as you are." She grabs soy sauce and drowns her sushi in it.

"Shouldn't we talk or something?"

"You want to talk about Miles?"

I pick up a piece of salmon sashimi with my chopsticks. "Not really."

"Do you want to think about him?"

"Never again."

She smiles. "I was hoping you'd say that." She grabs a fork and stabs a California roll. "Because I have the perfect way to turn off your brain cells. Alcohol optional."

"I'm terrified."

"You'll like it. Promise."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"Agree to do it first." She stares me right in the eyes. "You need to feel better."

I take a deep breath. I really do trust Kara, and I really don't want to think about Miles. "Okay."

Her eyes light up. "We're going dancing."

"I hate dancing."

"You think you hate dancing because you sit in the corner by yourself." She takes a long sip of her tea. "But tonight, you're going to grab the hottest guy you can find, and you're going to get back in touch with what your body wants."

"I'm not screwing some random guy."

"Just dancing. It's a great release."

"I don't know." A release sounds amazing. And I love the idea of house music drowning out every thought in my head. But I'm not keen on random guys in clubs. "I don't want a stranger touching me."

"Then dance with me." She scoops sashimi on my plate and motions eat. "But I'm not leaving you alone tonight. You need to let off some steam, and I need to make sure my best friend is okay."

"Drew didn't take my place?"

"In his dreams."