“Alright, dude, hurry. We’re gonna be late,” Tucker says, flipping the mirror down so he can run his fingers through his blond, shaggy hair.
“I think you mean thank you,” I mutter, and hit the gas.
The drive from Boston to Cambridge is quiet at first. Trees stripped bare by winter line the river, and the sky fades from blue to a deep pink. We pass bridges, rowers gliding through icy water, and old brick buildings with ivy climbing their sides. When I pull onto the side of the road next to the house Tucker directs me to, I can’t help but admire the location. The house is right on the Charles River, with the perfect view of Boston directly across. And then with a jolt, I remember who else lives on this street.
Rue.
It’s like I can’t escape her. I haven’t been able to, in fact, since that day in seventh grade when I ruined everything. It’s not like I meant to do it. I never thought our three years of friendship would get tossed in the trash because of me.
I’m pretty sure it all started because of that day I told her she’d be great in the drama club. Rue used to always tell me so many stories and dream up all these intricate worlds. She’d write a lot of them down in a notebook she took everywhere with her, too. I didn’t realize it back then, but I think it’s why I was so drawn to her when we first became friends. I liked the way shesaw things—like everything was somehow tied together in a sort of dreamy narrative.
And not only that, but the girl could recite entire monologues from the movies we watched after only seeing them, like, twice. So I told her, “You’re so good at remembering random movie lines, you should audition for the school play.”
She shuddered. “That sounds scary…getting on a stage like that.”
“You could just try it. You never act shy when you’re reciting movie lines.”
She laughed. But something I said must have clicked, because she did audition, and she enjoyed it so much, she thanked me. “You were right, Ez. I really think acting is for me.”
But then she started getting teased, and it only got worse when I made the basketball team because my teammates would constantly ask me why I hung out with her so much. I just shrugged. “She’s my friend. Why wouldn’t I?”
“She’s weird. She’s always staring at people and writing in that notebook instead of talking.”
“She just likes to think up stories about people sometimes. It’s no big deal, dude.”
Every time someone made fun of her felt like a knife to the chest, because who could be mean to someone likeRue? She was the kindest person I ever met.
But I couldn’t deny I was excited to be part of the basketball team, because with it came such a popular friend group. I started getting more attention, and my list of friends grew from just Rue to so many I couldn’t count.
It got to my head so much that one day in the halls, I caught one of my new friends teasing Rue, and I literally said nothing to stop him.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” he asked her between laughs. “You’re not going to write a story about me, are you? That’s freaky. You’re basically a stalker.”
Rue’s accusatory gaze turned on me, but I was so stunned, I just held up my hands in surrender. Everyone in the hall was laughing, so I gave up and said nothing.
In the moment, I thought, with hope, that my teammate was just messing with her, and that Rue would laugh it off. But by the time it became clear that my friend was being a jerk and Rue was upset, I’d let it go too long. I had basically frozen up with indecision, and then it felt too late.
But I should have known right away how bad that moment was for her, and all because I told my new friend something so great about her. He twisted it, and he didn’t just tease her about it.
Hehumiliatedher.
And then I lost her because I stood by and watched it happen. She stopped carrying her notebook around after that, and in my eyes, it was as bad as if I’d been the one teasing her in the first place.
For the rest of middle school, I tried to think of ways to apologize and make it up to her, only to regret my stupid ideas the moment I caught sight of her. I naively believed it would all work out and blow over eventually, and then finally realized it wouldn’t.
I never wanted to lose her as my friend, but we drifted so far after that, my new friends all but replaced her. At least the teasing from my teammates ended once Rue and I stopped hanging out. And once we got to Fallbrook, where everything is completely backwards, I bet she never got teased again. Because the ironic part? The drama kids—the ones most of my team would typically avoid being lumped in with—are the mostpopular people at Fallbrook. Thanks to Little Birdie’s obsession with them, they’re basically celebrities.
Poor Rue has never deserved to be scrutinized, but she became front and center news this year at Fallbrook, thanks to Little Birdie. I’ve read all about her crush on Carlton Peters, and I’ve been secretly eating up every crumb I can to learn about her new life with every new scrap of info. And I may not be part of her circle anymore, but I still watch her from afar the way she used to watch others.
From what I’ve observed, she’s still shy and nothing like the other, more outgoing drama students. Little Birdie makes it seem like everyone always overlooks her.
But not me.
She might have quit looking my way, but I’ve never, not once, stopped seeing her.
The problem is, I don’t know how to ask for her forgiveness. I’m sure she’s feeling more than a little wrath towards me. Or worse, indifference.
And it hasn’t just bothered me all these years to know I let Rue down. It also bothers me to know, in the back of my mind, that I was a coward...or at least that I had a moment of cowardice I never fixed.
