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Priya stares down at her lap like she’s embarrassed, but I lean forward in my swing and say, “I like that. That’s beautiful.”

She gives me a grin. “Thanks.”

“It kind of reminds me of this one poem by Yates…” I trail off when she grimaces. “I’m kidding.”

She chuckles. “Sure you are. But seriously, I’ve been thinking about that a lot, actually. I think that’s kind of been the theme of my whole summer: falling in love with my own potential, with my own future, even if it’s different from everything I’ve been so far.”

Two months ago, it would have terrified me to hear her say that.

I wanted to be sure of the future. I wanted to know it wouldn’t look too different from the past. I wanted to know our friendship would stay as constant as this old swing set, even if that meant we got covered in rust.

Now I know we can change without losing ourselves.

“Oh. My. God!”

Whatever cheesy thing I was about to say to Priya gets interrupted by Shal’s shout. She’s holding her phone a few inches from her face while she stares at the screen with her mouth hanging open.

“What is it?” Priya asks.

Watching Shal try to scramble to her feet and bring the phone over is a bit painful. She’s definitely way past ‘tipsy.’

“This is the mansion, right?”

She thrusts her phone into my face. I have to push her hand back a few inches before I can focus on the video playing on the screen. It’s a clip posted just a few seconds ago by someone whose account I don’t recognize.

The video contains all the key elements of a raging pool party, or at least what I think the key elements are, considering I’ve never been to one. The audio is crackly, but I can hear some kind of heavy metal song blasting over the noise of the crowd. People clutching beer bottles and Solo cups are swarming around a huge swimming pool dotted with people canon-balling into the water and floating around in inner tubes.

My breath catches.

I know that pool.

“Oh my god,” Priya says from behind me. “Is she seriously having a pool party? Who even posted this?”

Shal shrugs, the phone jiggling in her grip. “Some random girl I follow. She used to go to our school.”

Priya squints at the screen. “I can’t believe Andrea is throwing a party. What the hell?”

“What the hell is right,” Shal barks, snatching the phone away to plant her hands on her hips. “A pool party was on our list. Does she really think she can finish our list without us?”

I slide off the swing and take a few steps away from them, turning my back before they can see my face twist with pain. The Slushie cup falls out of my hand. I wrap both my arms around my stomach and wait for the ache in my chest to ease, but the gnawing sensation only gets worse.

I don’t care about the list anymore. I care that I was just crying on a swing set wondering if Andrea was missing me, and it turns out she’s spending her last night in her dad’s house throwing a rager.

Like she’s over me already.

Like I really was just a fling to her.

That night at the open mic, she told me I meant everything, that she didn’t think she was good enough to be with me, but what if she was just trying not to hurt my feelings?

What if she felt sorry for me? What if she turned me down because she realized how pathetic I am after all?

“Naomi.”

Priya steps closer but doesn’t try to touch me. I don’t turn around.

The voices I thought I’d managed to drown out are now ringing loud and clear in my head, all the doubts I thought I’d buried springing to the surface again.

I thought Andrea saw me. I thought she helped me see myself, but maybe I got the whole thing wrong.