Tori wasn’t the last person I expected to run into in the girls’ bathroom on the second floor. I saw her around school pretty often, and she was in one of my classes.

But she was the last person I expected to find crying in the girls’ bathroom.

Her reflection in the mirror caught my eye. Quiet tears ran down her cheeks.

Should I say hi or ask if she was okay? Maybe she didn’t think I could see the tears from here?

I wasn’t sure what to do.

She never did join the group chat, which could have made things awkward, except she never so much as looked at me in class or in the cafeteria.

When we met with Ms. Moreau the second time the other day, Tori hadn’t said more than two words there either. It had created a weird tension in the air even the school counselor couldn’t seem to fix.

Unlike the rest of us, Tori didn’t seem to be interested in making new friends.

“Tori?” I tried.

She seemed to snap out of it, blinking hard and exhaling. Tori fumbled in front of the mirror, fixing her hair. Her eyes were red and wet. And her lips. They were a little swollen, like she had been crying really hard.

I opened my mouth to say something more, ask her if she was okay, but she turned and left. Just like that, the door slammed shut after her.

I remembered my reason for coming in. I went into a stall, and all I could think about was Tori.

What could she have been crying about?

It was odd. She was perfect in every way.

She had perfect looks and the perfect friends. The perfect boyfriend—one of the guys on the football team. Her parents gave her everything, including the newest, nicest clothes and a brand new car to match.

Every other girl in school wished they were her.

Tori Rodriguez didn’t have to deal with bargain bin clothes or a stepmom who wished she wasn’t in her life. Or two stepsisters who couldn’t care less about her.

Her mom and dad were there for her. They weren’t gone like mine.

Part of me wanted to shake my head and say that Tori must have been crying over nothing. Nothing important, anyway. What, did she break a nail or not have a good hair day today?

But another part of me, a bigger part of me, felt bad for her. Wished I could help. Wondered what was going on.

Maybe her life wasn’t perfect after all, as hard as that was to believe.

I stared back at myself in the mirror, blinking back at my chocolate brown eyes.

What could I do?

“What did you do?” The voice rang in the girls’ locker room.

I pulled my head through my t-shirt to find Tori in my face.

Everyone else froze in the middle of putting on their sneakers or fixing their hair to turn toward us. No one said a word. They just stared, stunned, wondering what was about to happen next.

Like me.

I stood there, Tori’s nose a mere inch or two from mine.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” she said, her faced etched in anger. “Admit it. You’re the only one who could have possibly—”

Tori seemed to realize we weren’t alone then, and she looked around the room slowly, breathing heavily.

She took a couple steps back, and I remembered to breathe.

Tori kept her eyes on me. “Out.”

One word was all it took.

Everyone left, and the locker room was left dead silent once again.

She walked over and checked under the bathroom stalls, like she was making sure everyone had really left. Then she spun around to face me.

“I know it was you who went and told Ms. Moreau about me in the bathroom.”

I blinked back at her, not knowing what to say, not knowing if anything I said would make things better or worse.

“You had no right,” Tori said, slowly coming closer, like an alligator closing in on its vulnerable prey.

Now I looked around. The only exit was the locker room door, and she was standing in the way.

“I was just worried—”

“Oh, you were worried? Is that it?” she fumed. “Well, thank you, Ella. For being worried.”

Her face lit up with a smile, but I knew it was fueled by anger, not gratitude.

“Your worry made Ms. Moreau call my mom.” She looked like she was going to keep talking, but then she stopped, like she didn’t want to say too much. “Stay out of my life. I don’t care about your stupid group. I don’t need any more friends.”

She stepped closer, closing the distance between us. “And I especially don’t need you to become one of them.”

Before I could process what she had said, Tori was gone.

And I was left alone in the locker room, still in my socks.

I sat down on the bench behind me, staring where Tori had just been.

I thought I’d done the right thing, going to Ms. Moreau.

But it sounded like I had made a huge mistake.

TheRealCinderella: So I kind of messed up today…

I sent that message to Baller929 after school once I was home and finished with my chores. There would be more after dinner, but for now, I was in my room.

I took a deep breath and exhaled. I had really messed up. And the only person I could talk to about it was Baller929.

It’s not like I could say anything in the group chat. Technically, Tori could join any time she wanted.

I could tell Reyna, Selena, or Harper in person. Reyna had just started sitting next to me when she could in chemistry, usually as my lab partner. We talked, and I trusted her.

Harper had become a friend too. We sat together in our government class, and we caught up if we got there early.

Even Selena had started talking to me in math. At first, I thought she was just being nice because she needed help with the assignments, but she’d started sitting next to me too. And giggling with me at the guy in front of us who snored quietly through class.

But something told me talking to any of them was a bad idea. Tori would go totally ballistic if she found out I had told someone else at school about her crying in the bathroom.

No, the only person I could tell about this was Baller929. It’d be easier because it was over a screen, and he could find something good to say, even on my worst days.

My phone pinged, letting me know a new message was waiting for me. I breathed a sigh of relief and pushed away the math homework I couldn’t really concentrate on to read his message.

Baller929: Everything okay? What happened?

TheRealCinderella: Where do I even start?

Baller929: At the beginning?

TheRealCinderella: Haha. Real funny.

TheRealCinderella: Remember the one girl in our group who refuses to participate? Well, I said something about her to our school counselor that I should have just kept to myself. And it kind of blew up in my face. Well, she did anyway…she figured out pretty quickly that it was me, and she was not happy.

Baller929: Wow…

That’s it? No comforting words?

Baller929: Did you share a secret or something? Why was she so upset?

TheRealCinderella: I don’t know. No, nothing like that. I was just worried about her, so I told the counselor about it.

Baller929: Sounds like you tried to do the right thing. You did your best.

TheRealCinderella: I guess.

Baller929: You know, sometimes in basketball, we carry out the perfect play. My team gets the perfect pass, and then I miss. And we lose the game. It sucks, but I also know that I gave it my all, and sometimes that’s all you can do. You win some, you lose some. The important thing is you do your best every time. Sounds like you did what you thought was best. You weren’t trying to be mean. You didn’t tell the whole school whatever it is that happened. You went to the counselor. I know maybe that girl is upset with you right now, but maybe with time, she’ll be glad you said something.

I read over his message several times, nodding. He was right.

He was like my compass. When I was too close to the situation, he had just the right distance to help me see the bigger picture.

TheRealCinderella: Thanks. You have a point. I still feel pretty crummy, like I made things worse, but maybe you’re right. I just tried to do the right thing.

TheRealCinderella: You’re awesome, by the way.

Baller929: I think you are. Most people wouldn’t have cared enough about someone else to tell a teacher about it.

TheRealCinderella: :) :) :)

For the first time that day, a smile lit up my face. Somehow, the three smiley emojis in that last message didn’t seem like enough.