it was hard to ignore the pain in his voice. I didn’t realize how much he missed his parents. I thought he liked the freedom of being home alone all the time.

“Fabián, it’s only until Christmas—” I heard Señora Castor say.

“That’s what you said last year!” Fabián yelled.

A door slammed, followed by the sounds of stomping up the stairs. Ruth and I busied ourselves at Fabián’s laptop. I threw in two heart emojis to someone on Twitter.

Fabián stormed back into his room. His face was red and his carefully combed hair had come undone, a big strand flopping onto his forehead.

“Are you okay?” I asked. Ruth handed him some peanut butter cups.

“No, I am not okay!” he shouted.

I flinched—Fabián rarely got upset like this.

“My parents said they have to go to Texas again for another trip! That means they’ll be missing my step performance and the fall play!”

Oh no. I knew how hard Fabián had been working after school. And he’d been uploading snippets of his performances to social media, too.

“I’m so sorry, Fabián.” I reached to give him a hug. He looked away.

“Are you, Parvin? Because ever since we started high school, you haven’t asked about my parents once. You haven’t helped me put outfits together or film routines like Ruth has. You didn’t even ask me how play rehearsals were going!”

Fabián breathed heavily. I had no idea he was this upset with me.

“Fabián . . . I . . .”

“All you care about is Homecoming!” he continued. “But news flash, Parvin, there are more important things than Homecoming happening in the world right now. Really bad and awful things. And none of them will be solved by making Matty like some pretend version of you, okay?”

“What?” I was stunned. We’d been friends since elementary school, but we’d never said stuff like this to each other. I looked to Ruth for backup, hoping maybe she could explain what was going on, but she just looked down. My face felt hot, and the corners of my eyes started to itch.

“Ruth?” I whispered. “Is this how you feel, too?”

Ruth tipped forward and let her curtain of black hair hide her face. She shrugged. “You missed our crafting day before Fabián’s showcase. And you haven’t even asked me about Naomi. It’s like you don’t care.”

“That’s not fair!” I balked. “You know that once Homecoming’s over things will go back to normal, right?”

“That’s not how it works.” Ruth shook her head. “You can’t just ignore us for a whole month, then still expect to be BFFs after the dance. That’s not real friendship.”

“I know, I know, but we only have one more week. I’m so close, and I’ve got these steps in my plan—”

“For someone who’s supposed to be quiet these days, you sure haven’t shut up about yourself and your stupid plan,” Fabián spat.

The room went very still. Ruth looked away, like she didn’t want to stick up for me. I had no idea what to say. So I grabbed my things and left.

■ ■ ■ SCHOOL 5:00 P.M.

Fabián’s house was too far for me to walk home from with my bassoon, so I walked to school to wait for Mom or Dad to pick me up instead.

I couldn’t believe Ruth and Fabián had said those things to me. Had this whole Homecoming debacle really made me so self-absorbed? Maybe a little. But did that make me a bad friend?

I thought through the past month since school started, trying to pinpoint places where I’d been a shabby pal. If anything, I struggled to find moments where we’d spent time together in the first place. We were all so busy with either Farsi or church group or dance that we’d hung out less than we had in middle school. Back then we’d gone to Fabián’s house almost every day after class and helped him record livestreams for his account. I hadn’t recorded a single livestream for him since school started or gone to Ruth’s to help her with crafting. If anything, I hadn’t really seen them outside of school at all.

Oh no. My friends were on to something. Fabián had been so excited to sign up for extracurriculars, but maybe he took that many to distract himself from the fact that his parents weren’t home. And I knew how much Ruth liked company for making posters for school events. I thought about how we used to work together on her memory books all through middle school. Besides the emergency sleepover at the start of school, I hadn’t made any effort to hang out with them. Being at Fabián’s today was the first time the three of us had hung out since school started, and it was practically October.

I walked up to Polk’s main entrance and sat down on the low brick wall by the flagpole. They were right. I hadn’t been a great friend.

“Hey,” a voice said behind me. I turned around, hoping my face hadn’t gone all splotchy and red from my fight. It was Matty, holding his trumpet case.

“You waiting for a ride?” he asked, sitting down next to me.

I nodded. “Yeah.” I was too sad to feel triumphant over Matty talking to me. This stupid Homecoming plan was spiraling out of control. I wondered how I could make it up to my friends.

“Are you okay?” Matty asked.

“Oh, sorry.” I had almost forgotten he was there. “Just thinking.”

He had on what looked like a Shakespearean outfit, the kind of shirt with ruffles and stuff. His shaggy brown haircut looked at odds with his Elizabethan collar.

“I’m trying on my costume for the play, making sure it fits and everything,” he explained.

“That’s cool,” I said. “The costume looks good on you.” The green and gold accents brought out the color of his eyes. I bet Fabián’s looked even better, though. Maybe I’d help him accessorize it, if he’d let me.

“You think so?” he asked.

“All you need is a horse and you’ll be set.”

Matty laughed. “I’ll see what the props department can do.”

Just then, my mom pulled up. Is that him? she mouthed

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