4:20 PM Sunday, a bitchfest, on Josh’s driveway, in front of your sister

Josh and I are standing in his driveway, saying bye to Raffa, when Tamara and Becky screech up in a black Mercedes.

Tamara’s got her bitch face on. Guess they’re not just picking up posters like everyone else.

Your mom and Raffa are getting in your mom’s car. Raffa’s holding a stack of posters. Oh god. Please let them hurry. I don’t want them to hear.

Tamara jumps out of the Mercedes like a panther ready to strike, nails out, ready to scratch bloody lines across my face. She’s all done up today, lots of makeup, hair curled, expensive jeans, a tight T-shirt. I, meanwhile, am wearing a helmet, getting ready to ride down to the river to put up posters. At least she’s not wearing your hoodie.

She marches up to me. “Jessie!”

“What?” I glance over at your mom and Raffa. They’re in the car now, but Raffa’s window is open and she’s craning her head back to look.

Tamara points at me and shakes her finger in my face. I want to bite it right off. “You were at the mall on Friday with that blond lifeguard from the pool.”

“So?” I say.

Your mom drives her car away, kind of jerks it forward. She must have heard something was going down.

“So, Chris saw you.” Tamara’s chewing something in her mouth—gum maybe, or possibly her latest victim’s finger. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” I say. “Chris just overreacted.”

“Overreacted to what?” Josh says, confused.

“Nothing,” I tell him.

Becky is stooped over like Big Bird. She always looks awkward and uncomfortable when Tamara’s being a bitch.

“People saw you and that lifeguard pawing all over each other,” Tamara spits out.

“We were just dancing,” I tell them.

“It didn’t look like that to Chris.” Tamara raises her eyebrows. “He was crying.”

“What?” I think about that look on your face at the mall. Did you cry? Oh my god, that makes me sick in my stomach. I never saw you cry before. Would you cry in public? “He’d never.”

“You broke up with him and then he sees you at the mall making out with some hot, older guy. How do you think that’s going to make him feel?”

My face heats up with rage. “First off, I didn’t break up with Chris. Second, I wasn’t making out with Michael. That’s disgusting. He’s like an older brother to me; Chris knows that. And he’s gay.” I shake my head, fiercely. “We were dancing to a song that they were playing in Foot Locker. Michael was trying on shoes and we started dancing. There’s no way Chris would’ve cried about that. It didn’t even look like anything.”

Okay, maybe Michael went a little overboard. He was disco-ing it up, being extra cheesy. He’s a real good dancer, what can I say? He was spinning me around and around, and it felt so fun, so free, I let myself go. I felt like myself again, for the first time in a while. Then, I looked up and you were standing in the entrance of the store, your goddamn mouth open, catching flies, an odd look on your face. Your arms were just hanging by your side. Then you ran away. I couldn’t have caught you even if I tried.

“He’s been totally depressed ever since you went on this break.” Tamara puts finger quotes around break. “I’m telling you, if he shows up in the river—”

Josh stops her. “I don’t think this is helping anyone.”

I am speechless. Why does she think you’re in the river? Did she talk to Johnson? Does she know something I don’t know?

But then, maybe it’s how Becky swivels her head, like this has even shocked her, and I realize Tamara’s not saying that.

She’s saying you jumped in—and killed yourself?

“What are you talking about?” I say. “The bridge isn’t high enough to do anything and he can swim.”

“He could have jumped in by the rapids,” Tamara says.

It feels like the hole that I call a mouth is a pinprick in my face. No air can get in. Or out. Pain climbs through my chest. “He’d never do something to himself like that,” I say, finally. Sure, you get bummed out sometimes, but you’re not a depressed guy. You’re Mr. Gratitude, Mr. Think-Three-Happy-Thoughts. “He’s going to college soon. He has this whole exciting life ahead of him.” I look from Tamara to Becky to Josh. “Right?”

A hesitation. Or did I imagine it?

“No, he wouldn’t do that,” Josh says.

Becky shakes her head. “Not right before graduation.” She smiles briefly down at Tamara, like she’s sorry. “Not over a breakup.”

Tamara’s eyes flash. “You didn’t see what he looked like when he stopped by Tim’s barbecue. You were in the backyard, making out with Ian.”

“I told you: I just don’t think he’d jump in there,” Becky says.

Instantly, my mind pictures you doing a big jump into the water by the Pitt. And then, your body bumping along down the river and then disappearing into the class-four rapids. My heart breaks into a million pieces.

“There’s no way,” I manage.

“He has tons of friends,” Becky says. “He gets straight As. He has a full-ride scholarship to one of the best baseball colleges in the country.”

Josh adds, “He might be a starting pitcher. That’s what the scout said.”

“I mean, why would he?” Becky says.

“Over her? No fucking idea.” Tamara tosses me a disgusted look. “I swear, if he killed himself over you, a fat-assed piece of white trash—”

“Whoa,” Josh says, waving his arms. “Not cool.”

Yes, she really said that.

Tears are hammering at the backs of my eyes, but I don’t want Tamara to see. “Fuck off, Tamara.” Then, I jump on good old Ella and ride away.

Josh runs after me. He’s sprinting. “Jessie,” he yells, “you okay?”

I wave my hand. Don’t look back. “I’m fine,” I shout. “I’ll call you after I put these up.”

I ride harder and harder, holding back a sob. His footsteps stop. I’m guessing he turned around.

So, now you know how low Tamara can go, what she’ll stoop to—even in the midst of all this, she’s trying to hurt me. You always say to me: “You can’t let her get to you.” But she does. She really does. You tell me to ignore her, that she’s just jealous, but she has everything. Why would she be jealous of me? If she wanted you, she could have just had you.

The truth is she’s a horrible person with a shell of a heart. Some people are plain old mean. You said someone turned her mean. It makes me mad how you stick up for her. We all have reasons to turn mean. Everyone has crap that happens to them. Some people, like Tamara, choose to hurt others back, and some people, like you, choose to make others feel better. Tamara should be the one who’s missing right now, not you.