If I Tell

“She’s kind of a mess.” She was a mess, but I wasn’t doing much to help her. I watched a group of freshman girls pass by us without even looking at us. We were too uninteresting, I guess. They had no clue.
    “You’ve missed an entire week of English.”
    I stared longingly at the dwindling backs of the kids in the hall. There was no one else around us. “I know. I’ll catch up on what I missed. I was actually just heading to the library to study. I should go.”
    Ashley scowled. “This is so not like you.”
    I lifted a shoulder. “Well, there are extraordinary circumstances. The principal cleared me from the classes I missed, and I met with my teachers to work it all out. They’re letting me make up what I missed. My mom needs me.”
    Ashley licked her lips. “Well, I’m still really pissed off at you.”
    I frowned. “I told you I’ve been busy. I’m sorry I didn’t return your texts.”
    “You’re full of shit.”
    Great. There went my last friend. I looked away from her and glanced longingly down the hall toward the library, wishing I’d made a dash for freedom when the hall had been full of kids to hide behind.
    “Jackson told me what you said. That he didn’t deserve his black heritage. And that you called him a fake white person. What do you want him to do? Wear a sign to tell the world that his grandma is black?” Ashley didn’t have to vocalize her unhappiness with my stupid words. It was etched in her features and in the air between us.
    My cheeks warmed, thinking of the low blows I’d delivered.
    “Why were you even talking to Jackson about it?” I demanded instead of admitting what an idiot I’d been.
    “We’ve been having lunch together. He told me about what happened.”
    I stared at her. “You have lunch with Jackson?”
    “Well, you haven’t been around. And he’s a nice guy. He’s funny.”
    “Great. I’ll be spending the rest of my senior year alone,” I mumbled.
    “Jaz. Will you stop thinking only about yourself for once?”
    Her words slapped against my face, as hurtful as if she’d hit me with her bare hand. I dropped my gaze to the floor. Humiliated. I wanted to tell her about what I’d been carrying around. How I’d been thinking about nothing but Simon and my mom for the last few months.
    “You did this to yourself, Jaz. No one did it to you. And I’m really surprised.” I bit my lip trying not to cry. “I gotta say I’m more than a little disappointed in you.”
    “Well you’re not the only one, okay? I was mad. I got carried away.” I brushed back a curl from my face and stared at a crack in the floor.
    “So how exactly does someone fake being white?” Ashley asked in a proper tone.
    “It was stupid. I didn’t mean it.”
    “Do you think it really matters that he looks white?” I bit my lip, trying not to cry.
    “Well, do you?” she asked.
    I frowned and looked up at her, not used to this side of Ashley. “It does to some people.”
    “But are those the people you care about, Jaz? The question is, does it matter to you?”
    I sighed and looked up at her. At the unfamiliar glint in her eyes. Disappointment. Disappointment with me.
    “It feels like he has it easier or something.”
    “You mean easier than you?”
    “Fine. Okay. You’re right. I’m jealous. He fits in. He looks like everyone else.” I looked around the hallway, wishing a teacher would come and chase us away, but where were they when you needed them?
    “You think I’m not okay because I’m not like everyone else.”
    “ No . No. That’s not what I meant.” I ran my fingers through my hair and scratched at my head.
    “So tell me what you meant.”
    “I don’t know. I feel bad. Okay? I shouldn’t have said that to him. He has a black heritage as much as I do. I know that.” I jutted my chin out. “But the drug part is true,” I said, wanting to be right about something. “I’ve heard him making deals on his phone. Anyhow, he has a girlfriend, so why does he even care what I think?” I stepped away from Ashley, ready to move on, to hide in the library and block out this conversation. I wanted to be alone. I’d been without friends before. I could certainly do it again.
    Ashley jumped in front of me, blocking my way. When I tried to wiggle by, she grabbed me. “You know what? It’s not the color thing. Or even the drug thing. It’s the girlfriend thing that’s made you crazy. You’re totally jealous.”
    The bell rang as I opened my mouth to