She glares at me. I raise my eyebrows. She whispers something into their ear before walking away with a smug smile on her face. My best friend comes over. “She says you think I’m stuck up.” A hurt expression washes over her face. Our eyes meet. I have a flashback of memories, pouring into my skull. From the age of five, back in kindergarten, to last year, at the sophomore pool party when she started dating her current boyfriend.i start to cry. “That isn’t true. I know that you know it isn’t.” 

“I know that you are lying.” A new feels washes over her face. This time, it’s hatred. She explains what she said. Oh.my.god. “But back in fourth grade—“ she’s screaming now. “I don’t CARE what happened in fourth grade! It was freaking FOURTH GRADE! Stop being such a BABY! That was the PAST! Heard of the FUTURE!??? Jeez!”

and so I lose my best friend. 

For THIS week, anyway.