“What about Olivia Winters? What was her role in the friend group?”
I perk up at my name, despite the fact that in the lawyer’s mouth it’s said like a damnation.
“Olivia was harmless,” she responds. “She wasn’t my competition.” Sierra’s eyes flick over to me, and she at least has the grace to flinch, ever so slightly, as we lock gazes.
I should be relieved, but instead I just feel…empty. Bottomed out. Sierra didn’t ever see me as competition. None of them did. We were doomed long before Emma died.
I can tell it’s not what the defense wants to hear, either. Harmless nonliars don’t make good patsies in a murder trial. Lacking further questions, Tyler’s lawyer dismisses Sierra from the stand, and I barely notice as the judge calls a recess for lunch.
The courtroom is nearly empty when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
“Olivia?”
I recognize him immediately.
“Ethan,” I reply, voice tight. I tilt my head up to get a proper look. He’s wearing a goddamn Harvard hoodie.
He sits without invitation. “How are you?”
I stare at him. “Really?”
“I guess you’re still mad,” he says, sheepish. “I did try apologizing. You never replied.”
“My mom tells me not to waste my energy on bullshit,” I volley back. “You want to absolve yourself? Fine, I get why you did it. But there’s no more romance or friendship after that. You can’t come back from getting me expelled.”
“I didn’t get you expelled!”
“It’s not what you did, Ethan. It’s what you didn’t do. You’re the only one other than Tyler who knew I wasn’t involved in the SAT scam. The only person who could have saved me. But you chose yourself.” I let out a heavy breath. “Look, I might have done the same thing. But I wouldn’t expect that person to be all hunky-dory with me.”
“You talk like a grandma sometimes, you know.” He smiles. But when I fail to match his expression, he adds, “Sorry,” with that little Canadian o thing that I used to find adorable. Now it grates. Or maybe it’s that he keeps apologizing.
I move to grab my stuff. “We’re good now, okay? If that’ll make you go away, we can be good.”
“So you won’t mention me on the stand? My role in the SAT thing? The prosecution hasn’t mentioned it, so I think I’m in the clear….”
I freeze. I want to kick the eager puppy I used to love.
“Go back to Harvard, Ethan. Live your dream. I gotta go.” I haul myself up to my feet and head to the nearest exit. Let him remember the back of me.
I fly, fuming, into the farthest bathroom I can find to splash water onto my face. The defense’s questions make it clear. They’re trying to pin it all on me again, I’m sure. Shit like this sticks. I will never escape it.
I hear the creak of the old wooden door, then heels clacking on the yellowing tile.
“Oh,” Margot says as she and Sierra round the corner. Guess they’re still friends, then.
“Uh, hi,” Sierra says, but to the floor, not my face. “How’s it going?” She brings her eyes up to sink level.
“Oh, great. Love being used as a pawn in the defense argument to try to get Tyler to walk free.”
“Yeah…” Margot shuffles back and forth. “But no way the jury will believe it. Hopefully.”
I turn my focus to Sierra, her words from the stand still echoing in my mind.
She wasn’t my competition.
“How’s Yale?”
“Aside from some serious white nonsense, it’s good. I basically live at Hogwarts. I’m pulling mostly As, some B pluses. Normal stuff. How about you?”
It’s a social nicety, but it still stings. I shrug. “I’m taking a gap year. Applied to a few places, and I should find out soon.”
“Like where?”
“University of Maryland, University of Missouri, University of Georgia, University of Alabama…” I hold back one school. My secret wish. I’ll be too embarrassed if I don’t get in. A fool to hope.
“Oh” is all she says.
“It really sucks you had to take a gap year. I don’t see why you couldn’t have attended one of your other schools,” Margot says.
“I wasn’t accepted to any schools,” I say, and boy does that drop their eyes to the floor fast.
A toilet flushes, followed by the bang of a stall door. And there is Avery, in all her pearl-necklace-wearing, yuppie chic glory. “Not all of us have parents who can donate a cool million to a school so they’ll…overlook a scandal. Enjoying University of Michigan, Margot?”
Margot’s nostrils flare, but it’s Sierra who jumps in with barbs flying fast. “That’s rich, coming from you. First, how’s Stanford, and second, how’s kowtowing to the defense going?”
“I got into Stanford on my own merits. No namesake wings required. And I’m just keeping my enemies close.”
Guess Avery saw the Dateline special, too. And Sierra’s not wrong. Avery’s been sitting right behind Tyler, dressed to the nines like an angelic schoolgirl. Everyone knows that her mom is paying for Tyler’s defense. For Avery’s Stanford tuition, too, I imagine. I’m afraid of what Avery will say on the stand. Or what she won’t say.
Margot hooks her arm with Sierra’s. “Come on, let’s go find another bathroom. It’s not worth it.”
They don’t even wave goodbye to me. I’m the afterthought friend again. The bathroom door closes behind them. So much for our reunion. But then, some friendships aren’t meant to last forever. They occupy a moment in time, and then you move on.
I’m left with Avery blocking the exit.
“You’re not worth it,” Avery mumbles under her breath, crossing to the sinks to reapply her lipstick. It’s a gorgeous coral that brings out the blue in her eyes. Which I note look watery. Is she going to cry? “Can you believe her? I’m not the one who called my friend a heinous witch on national television. Anyway, how are you?”
“Avery, seriously?”
She pivots away from the mirror, leans back on the sink, and purses her lips.
“I got expelled from Claflin because none of you would stand up for me. I’ve been working two jobs to save for college, in my gap year, I might remind you. The one I was forced to take.”