Joshua’s rented skates clunked across the laminated wood of the roller rink in steady strides as he built up more speed for rounding the far curve. Because the skaters all whirled about in a giant clockwise oval, there were two long straightaways where he could do a really cool long glide. With one last heaving pump of his legs, he hunched down low, imagining himself more aerodynamic as he traversed dozens of feet in a matter of seconds. This was, in his opinion, one of the coolest birthday party things ever.

His feet hurt—quite a lot, actually—because the rentals didn’t fit him that well, but that was already within his expectations, as the single pair of roller blades the Moore boys shared back home rarely ever fit any of them. They’d started out as a Christmas present for Samuel to grow into, and two years later only Nicholas would even try to wear them. That was mostly fine with him—while roller blades were cool, street hockey back home was easier to play barefoot or in sneakers.

Skating like this, though? With dozens and dozens, maybe even a whole hundred people at once was amazing. With the lights down and only spotlights and disco ball scatter illuminating their broad stage, it was easy to pretend he was in space as he maneuvered around the slower skaters and careened around the rink. As the youngest, Joshua had shorter legs and some trouble keeping up with his brothers, but when they shot past him and moved on ahead that just meant for a few minutes they were actually coming up behind him, instead. As if he was back in the lead. It was a strange new dichotomy, but a welcome one that he embraced wholeheartedly.

A weird song that just seemed to be a robot singing the words intergalactic, planetary over and over again to a bassy thump played across the loudspeakers, and Joshua caught a glimpse of Matthew and Casey skating together off to one side. They were both cool—back at the theater they’d given each of the boys a fistful of quarters to go through the arcade there with. Joshua still had all of the coins in his pocket. He’d been so gridlocked with indecision over which game to spend the precious money on, that he wound up going from cabinet to game cabinet and just watching each of the demo screens play. Then he ended up just watching over Matthew and Casey’s shoulders as the teenagers sat in the neat Cruisin’ USA chairs and raced each other, right up until it was time to go into the movie.

Should I give all the quarters back? It kinda feels like stealing, since I didn’t use any of them for what I was supposed to.

“Tag,” a voice called, and Joshua felt someone’s hand smack across his shoulder.

With a grin and a mighty struggle Joshua almost managed to catch up before a smirking Bobby rolled on ahead and out of sight beyond the many other skating people—there was simply no chance of catching him. After all, Bobby wasn’t a kid. He was a teenager. It was weird but cool seeing Tabitha’s teenager friends again. Alicia was fun and playful with them, and though Elena was more strict and grown-up like, she at least remembered all of the boys from Halloween and addressed them by name.

But, she like, can’t let loose and have fun with us, Joshua thought as he wobbled on his feet, shifting from skate to skate as he rolled on. Because she has to be all ‘more adult’ when she’s around other teens. That’s gotta be tough. Kids have it the best—we can just be kids. Back at the playground, when no one else was around, Elena could just be a kid with us and play and it was great. Here she’s gotta be all TEENAGER and worry about appearances and impressions and posturing stuff.

It was all just a dumb act. Even though it was dumb, though, Joshua felt that he understood it completely. He wasn’t some little kid, after all. He had a firm grasp of how stupid and lame the little first-graders acted compared to kids like him that were in second grade. The programs at school said that it was something called peer pressure, Samuel snorted and had said it was just growing up, and Joshua had found himself thinking about it a lot.

Tabitha was way more like… RESERVED, around her teenager friends, Joshua decided. Or maybe because tonight it’s around the adults. She’s REAL when she’s just with us boys, but then sometimes when I see her with the adults—it’s fake. She feels fake.

Grandma Laurie only ever seemed to see the soft-spoken and kind, conscientious girl act that Tabitha put on. When Tabby was around her own parents it was even worse, there was some additional degree of pretend that Tabitha put into her act that was even less genuine. Here with these other adults—Joshua was hazy on all of their names—it was like there was almost no way any of them would ever have a chance of getting to know the real Tabitha.

They always think we don’t pick up on these kind of things, the boy wanted to roll his eyes. Which is just as dumb. Just ‘cause we’re KIDS doesn’t mean we’re not paying attention to any—

Joshua misstepped trying to direct his skates into the next curve and lost his balance, his left foot rolling backwards out from under him. His elbow and forearm caught the floor a moment before his chin did, and his body even slid forward a few inches before coming to a stop.

“Christ—watch out,” A guy swore, narrowly skirting around Joshua’s accident. “Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Joshua blurted out, clutching at his face and struggling to get back up.

The rink was all of the sudden scary with motion as he turned to see the flow of skating traffic hurtling towards him rather than streaming along with him. The moment he managed to get both sets of wheels beneath him they immediately went out from under him again, dumping him back on his butt. Panic rose up in his chest before he could stifle it back down. Joshua was just thinking of trying to scramble on hands and knees off the rink and out of the way of all of the oncoming people when he realized someone was hurtling right towards him. Joshua was already flinching back when the woman dropped into a crouch—still skating, and then effortlessly braked with a purposeful application of her heel stop, coasting to a neat stop right over him.

“Hey, little kiddo,” Mrs. Macintire said. “You okay?”

“Sorry,” Joshua stammered, holding up one hand. “Sorry—I just, I fell. I was trying to get back up. Sorry.”

“You’re okay,” Mrs. Macintire gave him a quizzical smile he couldn’t quite make out in the poor lighting of the skate area. “You’re okay?”

“I’m—yeah?” Joshua answered, confused. She didn’t seem angry at him at all—had she not seen him fall? “I didn’t mean to. Sorry.”

“Well, we never mean to, but sometimes we fall anyways,” Mrs. Macintire said, taking his hand and checking his wrist movement. “Why are you sorry? No boo-boos? No breaks or fractures or anything? Does this hurt?”

“I’m—” Joshua paused. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He wasn’t sure how to articulate what was wrong here—this wasn’t his mom, why would she care? If he broke any bones, she wouldn’t have to pay for it. She was one of the mothers organizing the party thing, but she didn’t seem mad at him for falling down and being in the way or maybe messing up things or getting them in trouble. She was right here down on one knee next to him, right in the middle of this side of the rink—as if she was shielding him from the skaters passing by this way.

“You sure?” Mrs. Macintire gave him an uncertain look. “Thought I saw you conk your chin a bit, there. Can you gimme a big smile—so I can make sure you didn’t lose any teeth?”

Joshua bared his teeth for a moment. He didn’t think he’d lost any, but—oh, she was teasing him. This woman was weird. Was this how other moms treated their kids? Comforting and… nice? It was all too easy to imagine his own mother screaming and swearing at him just for getting in everyone’s way. The realization filled him with a sense of loss that made him feel more winded than the fall had.

“Is he okay?”

That Hannah girl tottered over on her skates to grab at the lady’s shoulders for balance. This was the little girl that from the family Tabitha was staying with—she was cute but standoffish, and refused to look at him. The boys were all supposed to be polite to her, but they didn’t really know how to… so, it was easier just to avoid Hannah completely. They weren’t utter heathens, it was just that they only really knew how to treat adults respectfully, and Hannah wasn’t an adult—she was a kid just like them. How in the heck were they supposed to act towards her? Mind their manners? Call Hannah ma’am?

“He’s okay,” Mrs. Macintire promised. “You’re okay, right? Give you a hand up?”

With surprising strength, the woman took him by the hand and hefted him back up. His flailing skates skidded out again, but it didn’t matter, because the woman’s arm looped around his side and prevented him from going anywhere. Embarrassed and confused, Joshua grabbed her hand with both of his and finally regained his footing.

“Alright, kiddo—I’m launchin’ you,” Mrs. Macintire said. “You ready?”

“I—yeah,” Joshua said.

Then the hand released his, and with a steady push on the small of his back he was off, skating forward amid the flow of other skaters like he had been before. Like everything was normal. Well, except now his feet really hurt, the stiff lip of the rental skates had dug into his ankles when he went down, and his hand had that stinging numbness that needed shaken out a bit. He was okay.

Except, we’re really not okay, are we? Joshua still felt weirded out. My brothers and me. Mom wouldn’t have EVER done that. Any of that. Helped me back up, or, or made sure I was okay, or anything like that. If she’d have even noticed at all, which she wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have noticed or cared, except to like, yell at us.

He’d already internalized that back during Thanksgiving, Tabitha had picked him up and carried him to the back room and started crying because the four boys didn’t have a great mom. And, maybe their mom really wasn’t a great mom, it was still a contentious subject among the brothers and maybe ultimately a moot point, because so what? She was their mom. Other moms, like the ones on TV in cartoons and shows—they were fake, and didn’t count. Someone just made them up anyways, they weren’t even real.

Joshua didn’t realize that his pace had slowed down until he saw the woman skating on past him while holding hands with Hannah, and he couldn’t help but give them a sullen stare. Somehow or other, the idea that maybe their mother Lisa Moore wasn’t a great mom had never made the full leap to wait, maybe we actually have a TERRIBLE mother until just this moment. The thought made him want to do more than cry—it made him want to bawl, to go crazy, to throw a tantrum, to push and shove and fight his older brothers over it until they each understood.

Maybe they already understood, and that was somehow worse.

“You fell, ha-ha,” Nicholas pointed as he skated past, in another one of his Nelson impressions from the Simpsons.

“Smooth move, ex-lax,” Samuel called, swiping at Joshua as he went by.

It’s not fair, Joshua glared, flicking his stinging hand out one last time and then rubbed where he’d hit his chin with his sleeve. It just—isn’t. And stupid Aiden taking mom’s side, that’s dumb. Tabitha UNDERSTOOD. She’s the one who was saying it, was saying our mom’s not really like a mom at all, that she doesn’t get to just come back and try to act like a mom.

The fun had been sapped out of skating for now, and Joshua huffed and started circling wide towards the outer edge of the rink where he could step back off onto the carpeted floor. He wanted to stomp over and find Tabitha, because she understood. Even if all he ever said was that he was upset because he fell down, so what? Tabitha would still care.

It was okay if what he was so upset about wasn’t actually falling down, that didn’t even matter.

“Just look at us,” Olivia lamented with a groan. “Tabitha, look at us cripples. All alone. In pain. Suffering, in complete misery!”

“Don’t whine, dearie,” Mrs. Moreno reminded from the table next to them, not even looking up from her novel. “No one likes a whiner.”

As predicted, shortly after making a symbolic lap around the rink with her boyfriend, Olivia attempted to actually skate at speed and immediately sprained her ankle. Now she reclined back sideways in the booth across from Tabitha, one sock-clad foot elevated up on the back of the bench, with a baggie of ice perched on her ankle. Michael had piled his and her coats beneath the girl into makeshift pillows before being shooed away, and Tabitha watched with amusement as Olivia cradled a paper plate in her lap and picked at cake crumbs with her fork.

“I mean, we’re not all alone,” Tabitha pointed out, shifting the CD player box out of the way. “We have Barb here!”

“Ah, right,” Olivia nodded. “Just us three cripples. I’ve got my gimpy leg, Barb’s got Barb’s barbs, you’ve gotta cast. Together—together we represent all the suffering in the world.”

“Oh, please,” Mrs. Moreno muttered. “Will you just shut up?”

“My own ma, she doesn’t even care anymore!” Olivia cried out. “She doesn’t understand my pain!”

“You are such a baby,” Mrs. Moreno said. “I don’t know how anyone puts up with you.”

Olivia shared the most childish grin Tabitha had ever seen, popped another tiny bit of cake into her mouth, and then pursed her lips into another purposeful pout. The pathetic pity act was surprisingly endearing on the girl’s rather severe features, and once again Tabitha found the relationship between Olivia and her mother endlessly fascinating. They were just so comfortable with one another. What she’d seen of Elena interacting with Mrs. Seelbaugh back then had already been equally interesting, because despite being playful and cool, Mrs. Seelbaugh somehow tended to bring out Elena’s serious side. One of Elena’s life goals was clearly to always make her mother proud of her.

Whereas with Olivia—she’s—I don’t know, she can switch between being cool and snarky around us teens and being a melodramatic child to her mother in such a fluid manner, Tabitha observed.

It’s strange yet so NATURAL, and I think I really love it. Figuring out how to act my age—whatever that even really is, and how to act around who—has become such a struggle for me. I don’t know how to just BE MYSELF, and sometimes it’s like I’m trying to figure out who I am, trying to cobble all of THAT together, by just borrowing from the different acts I put on around everyone else.

Spending time away from her parents felt like it was instead adding weight to the other facets Tabitha presented to those around her, like it was shifting her personality away from the rigid, stoic, and somewhat defensive mask she wore around Mr. and Mrs. Moore. Tabitha was a fledgling teenager and she was also a world-weary time-traveler, but what she found herself really struggling with was letting herself ever be a kid. Being a kid should have been a natural component of being a teen, a building block of that process, but Tabitha felt like this crucial bit was glaringly absent within herself.

Because for me, my childhood is a LOT farther back than it technically should be, Tabitha groused, toying with Barb’s shock of spiny little needles. There’s been tiny moments here and there, where the magic appears, but they’re oh so fleeting. Painfully rare. I crave them, I’m desperate for them, but reaching for them, the actual act of me grasping for those moments of innocence instead would render them… ARTIFICIAL, somehow.

“Frustrated?” Olivia asked, and with a start Tabitha realized her new friend had been watching her.

“Um, no, no,” Tabitha shook her head. Then she slumped down a bit. “Okay, that was a lie. I’m a little bit frustrated. No—I’m really, really frustrated. This here is great, this night, this birthday must be the new most… amazing day of my entire life, but also I just keep sinking down into my own head and can’t get out of my own thoughts.”

Tabitha noticed Mrs. Moreno brought a finger up to her book to keep her place where she was reading, but to her surprise the woman didn’t enter the conversation. Instead Mrs. Moreno was glancing towards Olivia, as if interested in how her daughter would respond, and that whole dynamic was fascinating to see.

“So, talk about it,” Olivia shrugged. “S’all you can do. I mean doesn’t have to be to me, we basically just started gettin’ to know each other. But like, Alicia. Elena. Bobby, maybe, even. Just goin’ ‘round and ‘round in your own thoughts, it’s like—like do you know about J-B weld?”

To Tabitha’s amusement, Mrs. Moreno’s shoulders slumped and the woman smacked a palm over her own face.

“...J-B weld?” Tabitha asked.

“Yeah, it’s like—it’s this epoxy thing, like a glue,” Olivia pressed on, indifferent to her mother’s apparent embarrassment. “Comes in two separate tubes, and on their own each mixture or whatever doesn’t do squat, but when you put them together—it’s this super strong adhesive bond.”

“Okay,” Tabitha nodded slowly. “So, I need to… share my thoughts, for them to stick?”

“Kinda?” Olivia set aside her plate. “To me, like, that’s how I’ve always thought of it. Thoughts on their own, worries, hopes and dreams, fears, all of that—they’re incomplete. All of them are like a conversation you have with yourself, when they need to be a talk you start having with others. Just with yourself, it’s never going to get anywhere. So, to go out and make your thoughts really something, to form into something that’ll last forever, they have to be exposed to someone else’s thoughts. Friends, parents. Boyfriends. You know?”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of,” Mrs. Moreno complained, smacking her novel down. “J-B Weld? Really? I know you just used that to piss me off.”

“It’s dad wisdom,” Olivia revealed with a smirk. “Moms? Just won’t get it.”

“I—” Tabitha paused. “I really like that, actually.”

“Yeah, plus J-B weld’s good for like, everything,” Olivia laughed. “Metal, porcelain, wood, pvc—you name it, J-B weld can fix it.”

“I hate you,” Mrs. Moreno rolled her eyes, returning to her book in a huff. “I hate you all.”

“I think I have really just been stewing in my own thoughts for too long,” Tabitha admitted, gently withdrawing her hand from Barb. “Just, at the same time, whenever I do open up about everything, it starts to feel like I’m just dumping all my problems on them. On Elena and Alicia.”

“You’re just still focused in too much on your own tube of weld,” Olivia said. “Half the time when something’s bugging me, I don’t even have to talk about it or put my own thoughts out there. I can just ask someone else for their thoughts, and just me hearing them starts to mesh them with my own and give everything a stronger bond.”

“Wow,” Tabitha laughed in dismay. “You’re right. It’s… honestly weird how great J-B weld works for that whole sort of analogy?”

“I know!” Olivia preened. “Sometimes I amaze even myself.”

“Hmhbbullshit,” Mrs. Moreno sneezed.

“Gesundheit!” Olivia called, awkwardly pulling her raised ankle off of the booth and resituating to sit Indian-style. “Okay, so actually I didn’t come up with that one. My dad didn’t even come up with that one—Michael’s dad did! Oh. Hello there, little man.”

Tabitha followed Olivia’s smile to discover Joshua hanging onto the edge of the table just behind their seating area, the young boy somehow managing to clomp over to them in his skates silently enough to not catch her attention.

“Joshua!” Tabitha turned in her seat to regard him. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Joshua said. “I just fell.”

“I’m sorry,” Tabitha winced, gesturing for him to come closer. “Was it bad? Are you okay? Are you still having a fun time?”

“Yeah,” Joshua shrugged. “It’s fun.”

“Sit with us for a bit,” Tabitha said, scooching in and then patting the bench cushion. “Did you get hurt anywhere?”

“I’m okay,” Joshua said, carefully stepping over and then climbing up to sit next to her.

“Are you excited for Christmas?” Olivia asked him.

“I guess,” Joshua shrugged. “We already know what we’re getting. Nicholas went and peeked up in the back closet, and then when we all found out, Grandma just gave up and told us. We’re still not ‘llowed to play them ‘til Christmas day, though.”

“Video games?” Olivia guessed. “Michael has a Playstation.”

“Nintendo 64,” Joshua said. “We have our dad’s Nintendo 64. This year we’re getting South Park, and Legend of Zelda.”

“Hmm,” Tabitha frowned. “Zelda; Ocarina of Time?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Joshua said.

“I’ve seen the commercials for that—it looks fun,” Olivia said. “I’m sure Casey’s getting it.”

“It is fun, but…” Tabitha shook her head. “It’s also a single-player game. If my cousins have to share, it’ll be just one of them playing, while the others have to watch. I don’t know anything about the South Park one, but I’m not a fan of the show.”

“It’s alright,” Olivia shrugged. “I like The Simpsons better.”

“Well. I want you to be real excited this year, Joshua!” Tabitha couldn’t help but smile. “‘Cause, I managed to get a special surprise for you boys for Christmas!”

“You did?” Joshua couldn’t help but glance across the spread of birthday presents Tabitha had received today. “Like what?”

“Hmmmmm,” Tabitha used the cute tone she’d grown used to using with Hannah. “You’ll just have to see. It’s a surprise! It could be anything. Could be socks! Or cans of brussel sprouts for you to take to school for lunches. Spinach! Maybe even big ugly sweaters that each have your names on them!”

“Uaagghhhh,” Joshua mimed rearing back in aggravation. “Just please don’t let it be clothes. Grandma always gets us clothes, so anything but that.”

“I love the clothes my me-ma picks out!” Olivia laughed. “Old broad has great taste.”

“I actually picked out a little something for each of you boys,” Tabitha said with pride. “So that you’ll each have something of your own, and won’t have to share.”

“Like what?” Joshua perked up with interest.

“Take a few guesses!” Tabitha said.

“Ummm,” Joshua floundered, and they could almost see his Christmas wishes dancing through his eyes. “Wrestling figures?”

“Nope, it’s not action figures,” Tabitha shook her head. “But you will be able to play with them.”

“Nerf guns?” Joshua lit up.

“Sorry, no,” Tabitha gave him a sheepish grin. “That’s a good one though, I’ll have to remember that for next time.”

“Uhhhh,” Joshua fidgeted, appearing to lower his expectations. “Hot Wheels?”

“Not Hot Wheels,” Tabitha said.

“Micro Machines?” Joshua guessed.

“I—confess that I don’t know what those are,” Tabitha looked to Olivia for help, but her new friend just shrugged. “Are they like Transformers?”

“They’re like Hot Wheels, but even smaller,” Joshua explained, holding his fingers together to demonstrate an itty-bitty size. “Like, this big.”

“It’s definitely not Microed Machines, then.”

“How expensive?” Joshua narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“I’m… not gonna say,” Tabitha grinned. “But, I think you’ll really love them, and there’ll be one for each of you. It’s something you can play by yourselves, or something you boys can play together.”

“Something we can play together,” Joshua repeated. “Not just something we can play with. Is it a video game?”

“It could be!” Tabitha said with an encouraging smile. “Who knows.”

“But, then we only have one Nintendo 64,” Joshua pointed out.

“True,” Tabitha nodded.

“Then… I think… maybe… is it Tamagotchis?” Joshua’s eyes went wide. “Like, one for each of us? ”

“Ssshh!” Tabitha made a show of ducking her head and glancing around, while putting a finger to her lips to indicate that he shouldn’t speak so loudly. “They’re… actually a lot like Tamagotchis. I knew you’d just about guess it, you’re really smart. Do you promise not to tell your brothers, though? I want it to be a really big surprise.”

“Whoaa,” Joshua smiled. “Cool. I always wanted one. How much do they cost?!”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Tabitha assured him. “You promise to keep it secret for me?”

“Tamagotchis? They’re like, twenty dollars each,” Olivia remarked. “You got one for each of them? Four boys? Tabitha, that’s like eighty bucks right there.”

“Eighty dollars?” Joshua turned a stunned look towards Tabitha. “You spent eighty dollars on us? I think that’s almost what Grandma spent on Christmas.”

“Sort of,” Tabitha gave him a wistful smile and then put her arm around him so she could pull him in and give him a kiss on the top of his head. “I love you boys, and want you to have the best Christmas ever. Just, keep in mind it’ll be like a Tamagotchi, but maybe not exactly a Tamagotchi. Okay?”

“I mean, still,” Joshua seemed dazed. “That’s so cool.”

“So, like one of the off-brand sorta ones?” Olivia remarked. “Yeah, still though, that’s really cool. I know last year of middle school it was like everyone was just crazy about them.”

“I think it’ll be really fun! I actually got one for myself, too,” Tabitha confided in a low voice. “Just, now Joshua, remember. Big secret, okay? I really want to surprise everyone. You promise not to say anything?”

“Yeah, I promise!” Joshua nodded. “Thanks. Merry Christmas. And happy birthday!”

“You’re really on Tabs’ case about the whole time travel secret thing,” Alicia griped as she skated next to Elena. “But, like—it’s her story to tell, right? She can do what she wants.”

“Honestly?” Elena stared off into the distance. “I’m just getting real sick of it. It’s all you guys talk about, you won’t stop encouraging her, and just—I just don’t want to have to keep playing along with this forever, you know? She’s not from the future, she didn’t travel back in time. Grow up. Get over it. She’s fourteen, already, there’s really no excuse.”

“No, but what if she is from the future?” Alicia scowled. “You’ve basically never even once given her a chance. Right from the get-go, it was impossible to you, so you like—you like, couldn’t even entertain the possibility.”

“Yeah,” Elena agreed, finally shooting Alicia a stare. “Basically.”

“I believe her,” Alicia was adamant. “She knows things she couldn’t know otherwise. Was in exactly the right time and place and with the right preparations to save Mister Macintire’s life there. You’re saying that was just, what, blind coincidence? She knows a lot of future stuff, she gives specifics and details and shit. Social Medium. Music stuff, fashion. Movies.”

“Sure, some of her speculation is interesting,” Elena shook her head. “But, that’s all it is. Did you know that back in Laurel, there was this girl we knew, Maddie, who would always say she had a boyfriend who lived in California? He was supposedly sixteen, he had a rich family, he did photoshoot modeling stuff for magazines. Every time you’d talk with Maddie, her little fantasy story had new episodes—oh, they almost broke up, or oh no, his mother was an alcoholic psycho and trying to separate them. Or, oh, he got into a car accident and almost died. It was always something.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Alicia scoffed. “Tabitha has—”

“Well, the first couple weeks, we humored her,” Elena cut Alicia off. “We were like, twelve or thirteen, and it was all ‘so what if she’s lying?’ Yeah, everyone wanted to feel like their life was special, or interesting, or important. But as it went on—it got to where she’s obviously just making it all up, because every day it was a new drama, every day she was in tears, or furious, or falling in love all over again, because of the ongoing soap opera developments in her own little pretend story. About her ‘boyfriend in California.’ Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Elena,” Alicia slowed and grabbed Elena’s arm, forcing her to face her. “Tabitha doesn’t need a ‘boyfriend in California.’ Do you get what I’m saying? You were right fucking there next to me back when a girl almost murdered her. She caught her Aunt with heroin and got her arrested. I was right next to her when a cop got shot, she stopped him from bleeding out and literally saved his life—the cop’s family took her in, even. Any one of those things would be like some real Nancy Drew kinda shit. All of those happening together? To the same girl? Elena, Tabitha is special, and when we finally actually ask why, when we dig deeper into the big crazy mystery of why, you just throw out her explanation as impossible.”

“Let go,” Elena warned, throwing her hands out for balance as she tried to skate next to Alicia.

“Sorry,” Alicia growled, releasing her. “Just—Elena, she doesn’t need a ‘boyfriend in California.’”

“What I’m saying is this whole thing is her ‘boyfriend in California,’” Elena refuted. “Sure, a lot of those things you said are mostly true, just, she’s not as special as you want to make her out to be. You’re completely biased. When—”

“Oh, I’m biased?!”

“—When she went up and helped stopped the bleeding with Officer Macintire, that was a good thing, but she didn’t save him—paramedics saved him, surgery and intensive care stuff saved him. She helped. Yes. Not gonna belittle that, what she did was great, and yeah she should be proud of that. But, you only insist that Officer Macintire would’ve died because Tabitha claims he would have if she hadn’t helped, as if she knows. It’s a lot more likely that he would’ve been mostly fine until the ambulance showed up. It’s not like he got shot right in the heart or—”

“Elena—what the fuck?” Alicia’s mouth fell open. “Really? Really? Weren’t you the one going around getting all up in the face of all the other girls at school whenever they said that? Didn’t you run over and—”

“It’s not the same thing,” Elena argued. “Tabitha did help. What she did was great. I just don’t think you can give her all the credit, like she’s some Nancy Drew character. The other things are all basically the same. With the way you two reframe things, it’s always made out to be super huge and dramatic as possible, all the time. And yeah, I get that. I’m a teenager, too. But, when—”

Alicia had already veered off and rolled away, making for the outer edge of the roller rink.

“Alicia. Alicia,” Elena called, awkwardly clunking her skates to slow down to let another skater pass by so that she could turn and follow. “Oh, come on.”

“Elena,” Alicia snapped, coming to a stop at the edge and spinning around to face her. “You need to think real carefully about whatever your next words are, because they might just end this friendship.”

For a long, tense moment Elena stood silently in her roller skates on the rink periphery, staring at Alicia, who simply crossed her arms and waited.

“My mom’s still doing Christmas shopping,” Elena finally said. “For the rest of the family. Last minute stuff. This past Thursday she says, I’m running out to Harry and David’s at the mall, do you want to come with? I say, yeah, of course. We go. I stop over at Hot Topic and visit with Ziggy, she pulls me aside and asks me about you, asks if I know. I say, know what?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Alicia scowled.

“She asks me how you know Tabitha, she asks how you act around her, she’s asking me if you always take her side,” Elena paused, searching Alicia’s expression for anything she could read. “Because, if you’re biased, you would. If you… liked her, then, yeah, maybe a bunch of things would make sense.”

“Elena, I’m not gay,” Alicia’s voice rose. “Jesus Christ!”

“Do I think you’re gay? I don’t know what to think,” Elena withdrew her hands deeper into the sleeves of her hoodie and then hugged her arms against herself. “Am I calling you gay? Just based on a bunch of… random little things Ziggy says? No, I’m not a child. Ziggy and I argued, and we had a… long, uncomfortable talk about all of that.

“I’m not gonna be thrilled if you are gay, or if you’re bi or whatever, but no matter fucking what, we are still friends. Just like I’m still Tabitha’s friend, even if I don’t believe in her ‘boyfriend in California.’ What I do know is that—whether or not you have a crush on her—you latch onto everything she says like it’s pure gospel. No matter how out there or unrealistic it is.

“I’m not going to do that, and I can’t do that,” Elena held out her hands in frustration before dropping them, and then awkwardly holding them against herself again. “Trust me, I wish I could. Wish I could just go along with all of it. But, I can’t. I really, really need you to understand that. I do think something’s going on with Tabitha that’s not okay, and I want to get to the bottom of what it really is. It—it’s very annoying when I’m trying to do that, and then I also have to muck through all this time-traveler bullshit you keep encouraging.

Alicia continued to glare, arms still crossed in front of her.

“Say something,” Elena pressed. “Are we still friends, or not? Because, if not—that’s fine. No, it’s actually not fine at all. But, whatever. That’s fucking life, I guess. If we’re not friends, you’d better damn at least pretend things are still okay. For the rest of tonight, at least. I, I—I refuse to ruin Tabitha’s birthday with drama. So, are we still friends? Or are we just pretending? Just friends for tonight? Say something.”

“I’m not gay,” Alicia insisted.

“I don’t care,” Elena shot back. “Sorry, I really don’t. You’re either gay, or you just idolize her and just—just worship the ground she walks on, go along with everything single thing she says. It feels the same to me. I realize all the future stuff is fun for you, and maybe you do really buy into it, but it got really old, really fast for me, and yeah, sorry. I don’t know what else to say. Are we still friends, or not?”

“We’re,” Alicia faltered, looking away. “Still friends. Sorry. I just—I just all of the sudden got really, really upset. And—yeah. I’m sorry I said that. I don’t think I meant it.”

“It’s okay,” Elena’s shoulders sagged. “It’s… it’s okay. It’s fine. I got upset, too. It just, it happens. Carrie and I did this same exact thing like, three times last year. Just. It’s exhausting. I’m sorry, too. Didn’t mean to come off as demeaning and insulting or whatever as I realize now I did. I’m frustrated. I just—I love you guys, and I really want to be friends, but I’m so done with the future bullcrap and, and—it really stresses me out. For a lot of reasons. Sorry.”

“Yeah. Sorry,” Alicia edged forward a little bit. “Friends?

“Yeah, friends,” Elena rolled forward and hugged Alicia. “Sorry. When she brings that stuff up from now on, I’m just gonna try to bite my tongue and be quiet about it. You can talk about the future with her if you want, but could you please not encourage her or spread it around to Casey or anyone else? I think at best this is a ‘boyfriend in California’ thing, and at worst it’s maybe an ‘Uncle Vampire’ thing, and either way—just, yeah.”

“Still don’t know what the ‘Uncle Vampire’ thing is all about,” Alicia squeezed Elena tight before letting her go.

“I’ll give you my copy,” Elena shrugged. “I truly, honestly do not want it, and would be glad to be rid of it.”

“That bad?”

“It’s—yeah,” Elena looked past the curve of roller-skaters rounding the bend and over towards the table area where Tabitha and Olivia were talking. “I really hope not, though.”

Months Ago

After Ashlee had herself a ‘clumsy accident’ in the first week of bouncing on their big new trampoline together with Erica and Brittany, their parents had instated the rule that only two girls were allowed up on the trampoline at once. For safety, of course. Ashlee’s protests had fallen on deaf ears, while both Brittany and Erica chided her for being childish and reminded their stupid little sister that it was her fault that they now needed a rule—as if Ashlee hadn’t been pushed and shoved around.

The new rule that only two girls were allowed up there at once also just so happened to be the perfect number to exclude Ashlee.

Brittany and Erica would jump up there whenever they wanted to after school, and they would bounce when they were bored and simply didn’t want to let Ashlee have any fun, and they would also just hang out up here, sprawled out across the black mesh so they could deprive their little sister from jumping. This rule, like almost every other one that appeared, in Ashlee’s eyes, was intended for her older sisters to abuse.

They were both older than Ashlee, bigger than Ashlee, ‘more mature,’ and this meant that they were in charge and Ashlee had to listen to whatever they said. In the uncommon instances where her parents made a token attempt at being fair, they let the three sisters all vote. Unsurprisingly, Brittany and Erica always voted together in their own interests, and there being two of them and only one Ashlee, democratic process did nothing but exacerbate the disparity between them.

When the Taylor family went grocery shopping, the cart would fill up with Erica’s preferences and things Brittany had picked out, while anything Ashlee wanted was vetoed as unnecessary, unhealthy, or frivolous. The remote control for the TV was a scepter of living room power that was either held by an elder sister or passed between the two elder sisters—never to be given to Ashlee, who would just ‘rot her brains watching stupid kiddie shows.’ Perhaps worst of all, since the three girls shared a bathroom, the two older sisters had priority in the mornings for using the sink, the toilet, and the shower.

This rule began because Brittany and Erica had women’s issues that needed additional consideration, but of course nothing changed after Ashlee got her own first period at twelve. Even if it was just Erica spending extra time on her makeup, she would scream ‘get OUT of here you malformed little GARGOYLE,’ Ashlee would get pushed out, the door slammed, and then Ashlee would have to go ask permission to use the other bathroom in their parent’s room—which wasn’t always immediately available, either.

Of course my sisters are the worst, Ashlee would tell herself. It’s a little town with not that many kids, and they’re both pretty and popular and have BOOBS. The world is their oyster. Whatever that even means. Maybe if I WASN’T malformed—if I didn’t have a lazy eye—maybe all three of us sisters would be exactly the same.

On some days that idea repulsed her, and then on others it was simply too attractive to let go of.

Making friends with anyone in her own grade hadn’t been easy with the lazy eye that unnerved and pushed everyone away. So, when Ashlee finally made a friend that year, a chubby girl from the nearby trailer park, she was overjoyed. Their friendship was bound in the tightest bonds there could ever be—shared misery. No one else at Laurel understood in the slightest what it was like to be the other. Tabitha Moore wasn’t particularly bright and probably wouldn’t have been able to articulate it, but she didn’t even have to. She understood. Ashlee knew the girl understood, on a deeply ingrained, instinctive level. Sometimes Ashlee didn’t even have to complain at all, it was like she could just sit next to Tabby at recess and share a glance and they’d both just know.

Early on in their eighth grade year, they even managed to get permission to walk to each other’s houses. Visiting Tabby wasn’t great—she lived in a trailer and seemed dirt poor, plus her mom was scary and mean. Having Tabby over here, however, was fantastic. Now Ashlee could have someone over to conspire with, now there were two of them to match up to the two older sisters, and that meant Ashlee actually got a turn with the television remote. Having a guest over gave them real trampoline privileges, and it was a rare exception where Erica and Brittney weren’t always guaranteed to get their way.

Deep down, I just knew THAT couldn’t last.

Ashlee felt her heart lurch as she watched Erica shove Tabby towards the trampoline edge, and then she saw the fat shape of her friend tumble through the air like an oblong boulder, limbs flailing out akimbo. She’d known this was going to happen as soon as she heard Erica snicker. Her sisters always thought it was fun to push them around.

When she circled around the trampoline jumper, Ashlee’s friend was already in blubbering tears. Tabby had landed on her side and back across the worn concrete slab of the backyard porch stoop, but was clutching at her head as she tried to work her portly body up into a sitting position and then up on one knee. After rushing forward in a panic to help her friend, Ashlee realized she had arrived but had no idea what to do or how to help.

“Are—are you okay?!” Ashlee asked, holding out her hands. “Tabby? Are you okay?”

Tabby answered with a wail of pain.

“Christ, Erica,” Brittney let out a wry laugh.

“What?” Erica scoffed. “She’s faking it. I barely even touched her.”

Tabby tried to peer through the tears and disbelief but failed as the uncontrollable sobs and gasping breaths took over. Ashlee felt a surge of vindication at this—because maybe now someone would finally believe her when she went on about how bad she had it, but she buried it beneath a furious scowl towards her older sister. She needed to remember that this wasn’t a competition right now, that her friend really, really was hurt. Really bad.

“You pushed her!” Ashlee accused in a scream.

“I jush—I jush—” Tabby slurred out between her cries.

“Hey. Hey. Will you shut the hell up, already?” Erica’s hard voice cut through. “Dipshit. You’re fake crying, I can tell.”

“You’re the one that pushed her!” Ashlee yelled. “She hurt her head. She fell really bad, okay?”

“Oh, shut up,” Erica sneered, hopping off of the trampoline and looming close. “She’s just being a prissy little baby.”

“She hit the porch!” Ashlee yelled in accusation, thrusting her arms out to encompass the distance between the twelve foot trampoline jumper in the center of their yard and the foundation slab of their back porch. “There’s no way she could even get over that far unless she got PUSHED!”

“She only fell so hard ‘cause she’s so fucking fat,” Erica shoved Ashlee out of the way. “We already tried to tell her—she’s too heavy to be playing around on a trampoline. It’s not safe for girls like her.”

“Every time she jumped, the one end of the trampoline was coming up off the ground, she’s such a lard ass!” Brittney called over from where she had climbed up and was now performing leisurely, carefree bounces on the trampoline. “She was either gonna hurt herself, or she was gonna break the friggin’ trampoline! It was gonna be one or the other.”

“She was not!” Ashlee screamed back.

“Yeah, well, this trampoline cost two hundred dollars, you little shitstain,” Erica retorted. “When it breaks ‘cuz she was too fat, who’s gonna pay for it, huh? Her?”

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” Ashlee threatened. “You pushed her.”

“I barely even touched her, don’t even fucking start,” Erica snarled, raising a fist and feinting a stomp towards her little sister. “Jesus Christ.”

“Stop!” Ashlee shrieked, flinching back and putting both hands up in front of her face. “Stop it! You’re gonna get in trouble!”

“You’re not gonna say shit,” Erica warned. “Tabby? You’re not going to say shit.”

“Tabby—they’re always like this, and now you really know,” Ashlee blurted out. “Now you’ll believe me. You have to. You have to tell on them!”

“I—I alrea—I buh-lieved you!” Tabby bawled, covering her face. “I aw-ways buh-lieved you! I awready DID!”

“I mean like, really believed me, though,” Ashlee insisted. “They’ve pushed me off the trampoline a bunch before. Just the same as you. This is how it always is for me. Sometimes it’s way worse, even.”

Clutching at her head, Tabby sobbed and scurried away for the tall wooden fence door that separated the Taylor family’s back yard from it’s front yard. The pain was so overwhelming that apparently Tabby wasn’t even going to say goodbye or ask anyone for permission to leave—she just wanted to go. Part of that didn’t bode well for Ashlee, because she understood all too much of what must be going through her friend’s thick head. Tabby just wanted to escape home, she wanted someone to feel sorry or actually care about her, she wanted as far away from Ashlee and her stupid fights with her stupid sisters as possible.

“Tell them she pushed you!” Ashlee called out. “Tell your parents—then Erica’ll get in big trouble!”

Then finally they’ll HAVE to do something.

“Shut up, shitstain,” Erica growled. “She fell anyways, and she’d better not try to be a little snitch.”

“She fell!” Brittany yelled from where she was still jumping. “I saw the whole thing. Erica didn’t even touch her. Clumsy fatass, she fell all on her own.”

“Liar! Tabby just tell them, tell them they pushed you,” Ashlee called again as Tabitha disappeared from sight. “They can’t do anything to you, they’re not even allowed to touch you, so Erica’s already in trouble! You’re not related to them, they can’t do anything!”

“Yeah? Well I can beat the shit out of you,” Erica pushed into Ashlee.

Ashlee’s hands went up on instinct to protect herself, but that just meant her own forearms crashed into her chest and chin as the much larger Erica shoved her to the lawn. She was pinned to the ground and had the breath pushed out of her almost before she could register what was going on, and then Erica’s fists were hammering down across her shoulder, her back, and then trailing down her side towards her kidneys with the all too familiar meaty impacts.

She saw a daze of stars at the pain and choked on dirt as she tried to draw in air. Her older sister pushed off of her with a heave to chase through the wooden door after Tabby, but Ashlee could only contort awkwardly against the scraggly grass in an attempt to pull her limbs in against herself so she could curl up into a ball. It hurt—it hurt so much—and every time she got a beating like this, it felt like something vital was being sapped out of her forever. Ashlee felt raw, the fresh battering atop the old bruises made her tissues feel like they were being made into mush, it made her feel like she was being chewed up and spat out by this entire stupid, cruel, and impossibly unfair world.

Screaming, furious threats were audible from the distant front yard as Erica swore to take it out of Ashlee’s hide if Tabitha snitched on her for pushing. It felt like a joke to Ashlee—because Erica had already reneged and done exactly that, ensured that Ashlee paid the price before even putting that price on the table as a threat. Surely Tabby would realize that. How could she not realize? Almost insensate with pain, Ashlee could only wish with all of her vehemence that Tabby would just tell on them anyways. She knew Tabby was a little slow, but surely she wasn’t stupid. She’d gotten hurt herself, after all. She would tell on them.

At least that way, Erica and Brittney would finally get in trouble.

As even the best nights must, Tabitha’s birthday party wound down and came to a close. She watched her friends and cousins crowd along the benches beside the rental counter to remove their skates, and then she wore a grin of amusement as they awkwardly relearned how to walk without them in a strange, floaty-but-also-flatfooted gait. The cousins gave her one last chorus of happy birthdays and a hug each, then grandma Laurie gave her an extra big hug with all of the boys piling in, and then the cousins and grandmother departed.

A final round of pleasantries were exchanged with her new teen friends, and Clarissa offered to help begin ferrying Tabitha’s presents out to Mrs. Macintire’s Acura along with Alicia. Tabitha found herself surprised by how close she’d grown to Olivia within just a few hours of meeting the girl—in contrast, she’d barely spoken to Casey and Matthew today. Bobby received a small and carefully platonic hug from Tabitha that everyone seemed to turn and watch, Officer Williams shook her hand, and Mrs. Williams crushed her into a rather mortifying hug that almost took Tabitha’s feet off the ground.

Hannah was tuckered out and had draped herself into Mrs. Macintire’s arms, which the woman bore with exasperated contentment. Mrs. Moreno and Elena were standing near the dwindling pile of birthday presents in an animated discussion, and as Tabitha took one last wistful look around the Fundome—she realized there was one issue in particular she still needed to address. A dark-haired girl in an athletic jacket was standing with her hands shoved in her pockets, far apart from everyone else.

“Ashlee?” Tabitha prompted as she stepped over.

The dark-haired girl looked up and met her eyes with an evaluating gaze but gave no other acknowledgement. Ashlee was surprisingly pretty, if very taciturn looking, and when she used her bangs to cover her amblyopic eye like this, the resemblance to her older sister Erica was striking. It was still difficult for Tabitha to connect her to the friend from her distant childhood memories.

“Ashlee?” Tabitha asked again.

“What?” Ashlee finally grunted out.

“I think we need to talk,” Tabitha said.

“Okay?” Ashlee said. “Talk.”

Tabitha couldn’t help but draw in a deep breath and then let it out in a slow sigh. This wasn’t going to be easy. By some feat of implausibility, no one in her life had recognized that seven months ago, the child Tabitha Moore had been replaced with someone else entirely. Her parents seemed to have chalked it up to a difficult teenage phase, the people in the periphery of her life like her cousins and grandmother thought she was just finally coming out of her shell, and her new friends had no way of knowing any better. Ashlee was different, though—she was the one person who had known the previous Tabby better than anyone else.

“Are we… friends?” Tabitha asked.

“No,” Ashlee shrugged. She seemed to have already decided that. “I don’t know you.”

“We were friends earlier this year,” Tabitha probed. “Right?”

“No,” Ashlee shook her head in flat refusal. “We weren’t. I don’t know you.”

“Are you saying we were never friends,” Tabitha paused. “Or, are you saying I’m not Tabitha Moore?”

“You’re not,” Ashlee said. “We weren’t. So, both. You’re not her, we were never friends, and I don’t know why everyone thinks you’re her.”

“Because I’m very obviously a completely different person?” Tabitha asked.

“Obviously,” Ashlee agreed with a hesitant shrug, finally looking uncomfortable. “So—why? How? What happened to her? How does this even—I don’t have any idea what’s even going on. It’s just… baffling.”

“I was Tabitha once,” Tabitha said. “A long, long time ago. Longer than you would believe.”

“You mean you were like Tabitha,” Ashlee corrected with a look of irritation. “You weren’t literally Tabitha. You’re not her.”

“You’re half right. Half wrong? It’s why I say ‘longer than you would believe,’” Tabitha afforded the girl a small concession in the form of a shrug. “I do remember you, though. Just barely. It wasn’t right away, but I did remember you eventually.”’

“Yeah, okay,” Ashlee stared at Tabitha as though she was crazy.

“I’m interested in what you do believe,” Tabitha admitted. “No one else was close enough to even really notice—isn’t that a little bit sad? Do you think I’m a doppelganger? A doppelganger is a creature or apparition that steals someone’s appearance, and tries to take their place. But, I don’t look anything like you remember, so even that won’t be a very fitting answer for you.”

“I know what a doppelganger is,” Ashlee sneered. “I watch TV.”

“Of course,” Tabitha nodded along. “So—what is it? Do you think it’s from hitting my head? Maybe that bad spill off of the trampoline knocked my noggin in just the wrong way—or just the right way—and changed my personality? Unlocked the higher portions of my brain? Allowed some other person to possess me?”

“No,” Ashlee blew out a dismissive huff. “You’re not even her. And she didn’t ‘take a bad spill.’”

“You’re right, I didn’t ‘take a bad spill,’” Tabitha nodded. “Your sister pushed me, and then threatened me into silence.”

“You just found that out afterwards,” Ashlee scowled. “You’re not her. I don’t know what happened to Tabitha, but what I do know is that that’s when she disappeared. Right after the trampoline thing. Because, Tabitha would’ve told on them for pushing her. You don’t know Tabitha like I do.”

“You’re right,” Tabitha admitted. “I did tell on them. I told on them to my dad almost right away. I was just this blubbering, sobbing mess, and I was angry and hurt and I needed sympathy. So, I told him.”

“No, you didn’t,” Ashlee snapped, her volume rising. “She didn’t. You didn’t say anything. Tabitha didn’t say anything. Nobody said anything, because nothing happened, because nothing ever happens.”

“I made him promise to keep it secret,” Tabitha said.

“You told them Erica pushed you, and then made him keep it secret,” Ashlee repeated with a sarcastic scoff. “That doesn’t even make any fucking sense.”

“I know it doesn’t,” Tabitha gave another helpless shrug. “But also, it kinda does. I was afraid Erica or Brittney would find out I ‘snitched,’ that I would face their retaliation. Erica threatened that she would hurt you if I told anyone, but, honestly? I was only thinking of myself. I was just terrified she would hurt me, or make my life hell.

“It was self-centered and cruel of me, and it makes me a terrible friend—but, there it is. I prioritized my own well-being over my first real friendship, and it cost me… it cost me a lot more than even just that friendship, a part of me just had to live with that, and never lived well with that. Hah, just listen to me, though—you were the one that really paid a price for all of it.”

“No,” Ashlee rejected it all with forthright refusal. “That’s all—that’s all bullshit. You’re not Tabitha, and no one said anything. No one told on Erica for that, not to Tabby’s dad, not to anyone. Tabby’s dad would’ve gone and done something about it the second he’d known, duh. It would have come down on Erica for that, for pushing Tabby and getting her hurt.”

“I told him,” Tabitha insisted in a firm voice. “Then, he either didn’t believe me, or he didn’t care enough to do anything about it, or he just brushed it off. I don’t know, to him maybe it was just kids messing around, somebody got hurt. Bad luck, and not really anyone’s fault.”

“Bullshit,” Ashlee crossed her arms.

“No, no bullshit,” Tabitha wanted to sigh all over again. “Turned out that set quite the precedent, in fact. I told them I was being bullied for being fat and being trash—in return I got you’re not fat, how can you say that? Everything’s perfectly fine, Tabitha. Didn’t believe me until I get put in the hospital again for being pushed around.”

Tabitha hefted her hand in its cast for emphasis, and watched Ashlee’s eyes flick towards it.

“Didn’t believe me until it was too late, until I had a break and a fracture and realized I was still being bullied, because right after that, some girls stole my notebook and hid it in the trash. When I tell him our Aunt is doing heroin, that she’s a danger to her children and toxic to our family, I get you’re overreacting, your aunt’s FAMILY, she would never do that. So, I take her purse to the police, and, voila—surprise, surprise. Heroin.”

Ashlee continued to regard Tabitha with nothing but a stare.

“So, yeah,” Tabitha said. “I did tell him, and yeah, he was never going to do anything about it. I knew that. Deep in my bones, I knew that. That he wouldn’t believe me, or he wouldn’t treat it with due diligence, or that he just—wouldn’t act on it. In his eyes we’re all just kids, little girls playing around, obviously if someone gets hurt it’s just an accident. If we think otherwise and there’s hurt feelings or we feel wronged, well—we just need to grow up, in his eyes. That’s how it always was. For me. For you. I know you know what I’m talking about. I may not remember much about our friendship, but I do remember that what brought us together, what always kept us together—it was that. That sense of futility. Unfairness. Helpless anger that just—that just—it just seeps into you and starts to poison everything.”

The stoic facade Ashlee had been projecting seemed to grow uncomfortable at the sheer vehemence in Tabitha’s tirade.

“Sorry,” Tabitha paused to take a breath. “Losing my—my composure. Been dwelling on a lot of stuff. Meeting my parents for dinner tomorrow, and, and. All of that’s coming up. Coming out. I, I don’t mean to prop all of that up as some kind of excuse for my actions, because all of that aside, the bottom line is that I did just… weigh my friendship with you against how frightening Erica and Brittney were to me, and—and I made the selfish choice. I was a bad friend. I’m owning up to that.”

“You’re not her,” Ashlee repeated.

“I’m—listen, I’m trying not to be her,” Tabitha said. “I’m trying to finish getting past that. I don’t think I even very much like you, because you aren’t any better of a friend than I was. But, no, I don’t blame you, and yes, I understand why you hid their things or stole their things, why you blamed me for all of it. Why you were hurt or angry or felt betrayed and just—sicced your bipolar sister on me.”

The dark-haired girl staring at her seemed to tense up and her stare took on a certain strange intensity.

“Yeah,” Tabitha said in a flat voice. “Ashlee, that almost got me killed. So. While I have plenty of guilt about what happened, and how it happened, and how things went with you—that doesn’t mean I’m filled with a ton of sympathy for you. I was a terrible friend. You were also a terrible friend. We’re even, as far as I’m concerned. I appreciate you coming here to my party, but those ‘gifts?’ I’m going to personally return those to Erica, and I’m going to explain to her—with everyone’s help—that I did not steal them from her.”

“So—so what?! Oh, so now everyone will believe you when you have things to say,” Ashlee finally retorted. “Funny how that works out.”

“Yes, they will,” Tabitha suppressed a surge of rage. “Now they will. It took—it took a lot, and nothing I can say will make you even believe what I went through to start actually reaching people who fucking listen to what I have to say. Build some shred of credibility with them that I’m not just emotional, or exaggerating, or making things up.

“Ashlee, I may not have told on Erica back then to anyone who’d have believed me, if anyone even would, or said anything about your abuse situation right away, but I was eventually the one who told the school board to check you for bruises. Once everything with me and school was going south and they were not just listening to what I had to say, but listening very, very carefully.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Ashlee spat.

“Ashlee—” Tabitha grit her teeth for a moment. “I’m sorry. I am sorry. I was a shitty friend, and then so were you. You don’t even have to say sorry for what you did, if you don’t want to. I get it. But I, I—I’m past it. I’m so far past it that I truly, genuinely have struggled to regain my bearings on the whole… issue. We’re even, as far as I’m concerned. I’m growing up and moving on. I invite you to do the same, and, and if you want I would welcome starting over, starting a new friendship with you. Neither of us can change what happened, both of us are going back to school soon, and—yeah. That’s it. I’ve said my piece, I’ve said everything, and. Who we are to each other from here on out? That’s all up to you.”

“Before I just thought you weren’t Tabitha,” Ashlee said after a long moment of stubborn consideration. “Now I know you aren’t her. You really just don’t get it. You never will.”

Then the girl predictably stormed off, with her jaw stiff and arms crossed in front of her. Tabitha watched the girl in the rain jacket march off through the Florence Fundome’s exit doors and outside.

“Great. Yeah, just… brilliant,” Tabitha cursed, almost scratching her face with the worn fiberglass cast as she brought both her hands up. “Great.”

“You okay?” Bobby startled her from just behind her—Tabitha hadn’t realized he’d crept in so close.

“I—where did you come from?” Tabitha hugged her arms against herself in embarrassment.

“Uhh, sorry,” Bobby gave her a sheepish smile. “That seemed like it was getting, um, tense. I was all like, ready to jump in and save the day. Keep y’all from throwin’ punches or anything like that.”

“Right. Yeah, I… how much of all that did you hear?” Tabitha couldn’t help but cringe. “Didn’t mean to