“Dinner sounds great,” I say over my shoulder, moving to my room to check my phone. There’s a part of me that both hopes and dreads another message from Houston. When I see it’s just a return from Lexi, I’m equally conflicted—disappointment…meet relief.

OMG you are such a rescue. Please. Mall. Now. Parents making me crazy. Pick you up in five?

I laugh lightly as I read her words. As much as things have changed, nothing has changed. Lexi’s parents are the kind of couple that should have divorced a decade ago, only they’re stubborn and don’t want to be labeled failures. Instead, they hang on and fight and exist in an awful marriage. Lexi used to spend the night at our house a lot. Whenever I went to her house, her parents would make these little remarks to one another, passive-aggressive things since they didn’t want to fight in front of company. I kind of think the childish picking at one another was worse, though.

I write her back.

Give me 10 mins. Mom just got home. But I can go. Excited to see you!

For a minute, I feel normal. I change quickly, putting on my skinny jeans and my favorite tight, black sweater so I can wear my new boots. I didn’t bring them to campus with me the first time. I wasn’t sure how cold the weather would be, or what snow would be like there. But now that I’ve lived there, I think I can wear these without much trouble.

My mom’s smile falls a little when she sees me, and I feel bad leaving so quickly. But I need a dose of a real friend—a friend from before. There are some things that my girlfriends can do that my parents can’t.

“I’m sorry. I won’t be long. And I’ll be home for dinner. It was Lexi; she needs to escape,” I say, pulling my purse over my shoulder and moving close enough to my mom to grab a hold of her arm and swing it. She squeezes me in return and smiles easily again.

“Okay, I understand. But make sure you save some time for your dad and me, okay?” she says.

“I promise,” I say, crossing my heart and leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. Truth is, my mom is really my only other friend right now.

True to form, Lexi shows up right at ten minutes. I skip down the driveway to her car. She’s still driving the red Camaro she got for her sixteenth birthday, and the top is down. I pull the hair tie from my wrist and fasten my hair by my neck. Hopefully it will survive Lexi’s driving.

The ride to the mall is spent catching up. Lexi joined a sorority at Long Beach, and she’s also gotten involved with a few clubs on campus. She was always into things like student council and the social committees in high school, so nothing she says is a surprise. She has a boyfriend—some guy named Curtis. She met him at the first sorority mixer. I start to tell her about Carson, about how I met a guy too, but then I stop short, remembering everything my life is in Oklahoma. It’s not something I want to brag about, so instead, I lie.

“I haven’t really met anyone,” I say, shrugging. But for some reason, at that very moment, all I can think about is Houston.

“Well, you will. College is amazing, isn’t it?” she says, turning the car sharply to the right, fitting into a spot I’m fairly sure isn’t really a spot.

“It’s pretty great,” I respond, keeping my face from her while I exit the car. I can feign happiness in my words, but I don’t think I’m up for making happy faces.

We spend the first hour trying out new makeup samples. I sprayed my wrists with my favorite Chanel, but stopped there. I don’t like tainting the good scent with a bunch of crappy ones—I won’t even smell something I’m not sure I’m going to like. I have a feeling my parents bought me the new set for Christmas, so I buy a few new lip colors, but nothing else.

The afternoon is easy—like old times. And when we’re trying on boots at our favorite shoe store, I realize I’m actually smiling—from joy.

“I wish I would have stayed in California,” I let slip out. My eyes fall down to my hands working on a zipper for a knee-high pair of gray leather boots.

“You’re a good sister,” Lexi says, touching her hand to my arm. I wasn’t shy about telling everyone why I was going to Oklahoma. Paige, the martyr—giving up her dreams for her sister’s. Six months ago, having Lexi stroke my arm because she feels bad for me and is impressed with this sacrifice I’m making…that would have been enough. That would have satisfied me. Today, I don’t feel worthy.

“So, do I get to meet this Curtis guy?” I ask, changing the subject. There’s a flash of something in her face; I can’t tell for sure, but I think…I think it has to do with me.