“Boo,” said Lucita as she approached her friends. Rebecca just glared at her, and Liz just sat there, impassive. Lucita swallowed, her nerves building.

“What’s wrong?” she asked tentatively, bringing her bag to her front and holding it protectively.

“Blake broke up with me.”

Luci stared at her, stunned. Definitely not what she was expecting.

“Why?”

“Because of whatever is going on between you and Tiffany,” snapped Liz. “Care to explain?”

“Oh, um, well, it just has to do with Cyrus. Tiffany, I mean, she’s cheating on him, and then there are these fake pictures she has…look, it’s really complicated.”

“Seriously? You ruined my relationship and won’t tell me why?”

Luci stared at Becca, confused. “Hold up, how did I ruin your relationship? I don’t understand how any of this has to do with your relationship.”

“Blake wouldn’t tell her anything, that’s how,” snapped Liz. There was more to her anger than just this, Luci could tell. She tried not to think about how it was twisting up her insides.

“Okay. But that has nothing to do with me. I didn’t swear him to secrecy or anything.”

“He told me I needed to trust him.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Now Luci was really confused. She could understand why Blake had chosen not to say anything to Becca, considering how tight she was with Liz. However, she still didn’t understand why it was an issue.

“She doesn’t trust him. She never did.” Elizabeth stared at her coldly, eyes narrowing on her. “Did you finish your part of the French project? You know the project you were supposed to come over and work on?”

Luci tried not to flinch. “Yeah, I have it on a flash drive. We can work on it in class. I’m sorry about that, but my mom…she hasn’t been letting me out of the house much.”

“Don’t use your mom as an excuse,” she snapped. Fear bubbled up inside Luci. “Just give a damn to work on it today instead of writing your next book.”

“Of course. Liz—” The bell ran, cutting her off. Liz grabbed her bag, shooting her a glare before turning to face Becca.

“You know, Becca, if you can’t trust someone, you shouldn’t be with them. Honestly, you’re better off.” She walked off, and Lucita ran to follow. Trailing behind her, she kept her eyes open for Francis. Something was wrong; Liz knew something. Maybe she could prevent the fallout if she could just talk to her. Maybe she could fix whatever was broken between them.

“Liz, are you okay?”

“No. I should have broken up with Jason long ago and shouldn’t have dated Francis. I didn’t trust either of them.”

“Wait, why Francis?” she asked, her panic rising.

Elizabeth stopped just outside the classroom. “People are saying he cheated on me.”

“What? Who?”

“Evie.” Liz looked Luci up and down, sizing her up. “Does this have anything to do with your feud?” Luci hated the way Liz was staring at her, like she was the enemy. Not that she didn’t deserve it.

“Um, maybe? I’ve noticed her and Francis hanging out a lot, like they’re best friends now.”

Something softened in Liz. “Yeah, I noticed that. What exactly is Tiffany trying to do, Luci?”

“Ruin my life because I apparently ruined hers.”

“No, she did that all on her own. You just facilitated the inevitable.” They stood there, each one studying the other. “Why aren’t you friends with Francis anymore, Lu?”

This was her chance; she could change everything here. “Because he’s a pig who told me he loved me before he broke up with you. He’s disgusting.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I didn’t know how. I…Liz, I felt so guilty.”

Elizabeth almost smiled. “Don’t. You didn’t force me to date him. I did that all on my own.” She walked into the classroom, heading straight to her seat. Lucita followed, sitting beside her, wondering if she knew. She might suspect, but what had Francis said to her? Had he told her anything or was he all bark and no bite?

Today was just another review, giving Liz and Luci time to work on their project together.

Even though the spring semester had just started, it felt like it was almost over. Everything was moving, speeding away, slipping through her fragile fingers. Would her control fall through them, too?

The bell rang. The day went on. Lunch came, food was eaten, and it felt like everything was fine. Liz acted like everything was okay while Becca simmered. Blake and Jason had made themselves scarce, and Silvia had kept to herself, offering no opinions.

She saw Francis eating with Evie, their heads bent in hushed whispers. Her panic flared when she thought about what they were plotting. Would he expose these fake pictures and tell the world it was her in those photos when it wasn’t? Would anyone even believe her? God, Luci hoped Caroline would crush Tiffany’s spirit before anything else. She was already on the outs with Cyrus; she couldn’t lose Liz because of her stupidity.

Cyrus…she wished she had a phone so she could text him. She just wanted to hear from him, to know he was okay.

Luci was so drained, so tired. She was so happy her mom was letting her catch the bus home today. She couldn’t take another awkward bus ride with Francis, who sat seething behind her every day. She was just so tired, teetering on the edge.

Good thing she was in therapy, she joked to herself.

Luci hated that she was in therapy, but having someone to talk to about her mom was nice. Someone who made her feel validated, something who listened.

She kept that thought close as she made her way to her office today.

“Come in.”

Luci walked into the office she had grown familiar with these past few weeks. Every Wednesday after school, she sat there, and they just talked. It was nice.

Ms. Enno smiled at her, her blue tribal-printed shirt loose and flowy. Luci looked up at the wall behind her desk, at the master’s degree there.

“Luci, right on time. Take a seat.”

Luci sat in her usual spot on the loveseat, which was too comfortable. Sometimes, she felt like falling asleep there.

“Can I ask you a question, Ms. Enno?

“Of course.”

“Why are you here? I mean, I see that degree there and…well, you could do anything with that degree. Why are you here?”

Ms. Enno studied her for a moment before taking her own seat. “I grew up on a reservation. Sometimes, well, the young there have a hard time. We don’t get a lot of the resources people think. They think, oh, the government helps us, but really, we have to look out for ourselves. One of the biggest problems on reservations is drug abuse.” Luci flinched, thinking about Chris. Ms. Enno must have seen that. “Do you know someone with a drug problem?”

“Knew,” she choked out, “I knew someone. Chris.”

“Ah. I knew Chris, too. I had a few sessions with him. Chris had…well, he had his ghosts. I suggested him to a colleague I thought could better help him. Better resources.”

“I should have done something.”

“Luci…people need to want help to be helped. Sometimes, there is only so much you can do. Sometimes there is nothing you can do.”

“How do you know? Chris didn’t want to die, I know that!”

“Do you, though? My brother had a drug problem. He wanted to talk to people, but there was no one he could talk to. It was hard for him, so he just gave up. My brother overdosed when I was thirteen. I found his body. I found his journal. He may not have wanted to die, but he wanted to give up. My brother had so many demons. We could see them. I could see them. But we couldn’t give him the help he needed. As sad as it sounds, some people just want to give up living. Sometimes, being heard isn’t enough.

“That’s why I chose this field. I wanted to give young people a voice. I wanted to help. I had to make peace with not everyone wanting help. But it’s still hard. Even now, I think, should I have just kept Chris here? Maybe referring him to someone else made him feel like I had given up on him. You can’t save everyone.

“I chose a public school for people like you and Chris to give people with limited resources a chance to be heard and choose not to give up. Do you sometimes feel like giving up, Luci?”

Luci stared at her. She thought about the scars on her body, about the way she wanted to scream when no one was looking. About how some days she felt like she could float on air or how on other days she felt like everything was crushing her.

“No. I just want the pain to stop.”

Ms. Enno nodded, pulling out a folder from her desk. “I know Luci. I was looking over our past sessions. Luci, do you know what manic depression is?”

Luci shook her head. “No.”

“So it is a form of bipolar disorder. It is typically the most common one, and depending on its severity, it requires medication, but not always.”

“I’m…wait, are you telling me I’m bipolar?”

“I’m saying I believe so. I will need to schedule you for an actual test, but from my assessment, yes.”

“My mom—”

“I would like your mom to be tested too.”

“What?”

Ms. Enno nodded. “I’ve already called her. I spoke to her just a little while ago. She agreed to take the test with you. I have already called a colleague of mine, and we went ahead and scheduled the session for this Saturday. Your mom will also start talking to a therapist regarding her behavior. She said she spoke to you the other day. She was…heartbroken, to say the least. She wants to do better.”

The words caught her off guard. Luci didn’t know how to feel about that. Elated? Surprised?

“I might be bipolar.” She hung on to that word. Bipolar.

“You might. But I want you to know I am here for you. I am never going to give up on you.” Ms. Enno walked over to her and held her hand tightly, pulling her into a hug.

Lucita left the session calmer than she had felt earlier in the day. Walking down the hall, she headed for the stairwell, surprised to see Olivia seemingly waiting for her.

“Olive, what up?”

“Lu! Oh my god. I heard from Caroline. She says she has a plan, and she’s getting ready to act soon. Like, tomorrow soon.”

“Great.”

“Yeah, but there’s more.”

“More? What more?”

“Francis. He’s…I mean, he’s been going around school talking, practically bragging about how he cheated on Liz—”

“Yeah, Liz mentioned there was a rumor going around, but—”

“She knows Lu. Evie let it slip this morning.”

Lucita froze. All day, she knew something had been off with her all day. A lie, it was all a lie. “But, Liz, she—”

“I just found out. Liz is going to tell your French teacher you didn’t do any work on the project. She told Evie she deleted all your work from your flash drive.”

“I’ll fail if she does that!”

Olivia shook her head. “That’s the point. It’s—I’m sorry, Lu.”

“It’s fine. I have backups, it’s fine.” She was manic now, heart racing as she ran into the stairwell, Olivia trailing behind her. Waiting for her was the last person she wanted to see.

“Oh god. I do not have the patience to deal with you, Francis.”

Lucita ran down the stairs, pushing past him on the second-floor landing, but he snatched her wrist, pulling her back.

“Francis, let go of her!”

Luci wasn’t kind. “Get your disgusting hands off me,” she all but growled.

“Oh, I’m disgusting now?”

“You look disgusting,” she said, snatching her arm from him. “I despise you.”

She wanted her words to hurt; if they did, she couldn’t tell. She needed to get away from him. “If I’m disgusting, so you are,” he said, following her to the edge of the stairs. “In fact, I have these pictures on my phone that paint a pretty good picture of you.”

“Those are fake,” she said, trying to snatch his phone from him.

“So you won’t mind if I press this send button.”

“No!” Luci and Olivia both screamed, but there was nothing to do but watch him press send. Luci barely got a hold of the phone to look at all the numbers the fake photos were airdropped, too.

Shaking, she screamed, slamming the phone down the staircase, watching it bounce off the wall. She heard it crack just as she punched Francis, sending him down the stairs himself. But, of course, he was agile enough and caught himself on the railing, stumbling down the rest of the stairs.

“Luci!” called Olivia, but Lucita ignored her, stomping down the stairs in her three-inch high wedge sandals. Reaching down to Francis, she grabbed his chin, digging her nails into his face like a feral cat.

“You are pathetic. You are nothing. It’s no wonder your mother left you, no wonder your father left you, no wonder your whole family hates you.” She dropped her bag, snatching up his arm to highlight the thick, long scar from his wrist to his elbow. She was going too far; she knew it, but he needed him to hurt as much as her. “Do us all a favor, Francis,” she said, spitting his name, “go kill yourself properly this time.”

Shoving him into the railing, she kept the tears at bay as she grabbed her bag, letting her rage carry her forward.

Nothing could protect her now.