I wake up early in the morning, still unsure what to make of everything that happened yesterday. I check my phone. There’s a message from Julie around one in the morning, asking me to call her. That means she stayed up really late last night.

I don’t want to talk to her, but at the same time, I’m dying to know what happened with Oliver after his parents took him home, practically dragging him out.

After thinking it over, I give in and call her. She picks up right away, like she had been waiting for my call.

“Listen…” she says, already sounding like she’s about to cry. “It’s not good. There’s been a lot of tension here.” Her voice cracks. “There was a huge fight between Dad and Oliver yesterday. Things were going fine until all this. Please, just… stay away from him. Don’t break our family like this.”

“You think I’m chasing after him?” I ask. “I’m not. Don’t forget, he’s the one who came to my house. I didn’t invite him.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says quickly. “I’m sorry. It’s just… Dad was furious. He hit Oliver. Really badly. I felt sick. He’s never touched him before. They used to be so close. It crushed him.” She takes a breath and continues. “Oliver didn’t even fight back. Dad just kept going, like he wasn’t even himself. It really bothers me that I started all of this. If I hadn’t taken you home so often, maybe he wouldn’t have developed this crush on you. This is all my fault..”

My blood boils when she makes that declaration. She openly says she wishes she’d never taken me home. How dare she think I’m the one ruining things.

“I’m sorry that happened,” I say. “But this isn’t my fault. And don’t worry, I’m not about to wreck your perfect little home.” I end the call without saying goodbye.

That’s it. I’m going to school today.

I’m done hiding. I didn’t do anything wrong. If anyone should be hiding, it’s him.

I get up and start getting things ready for school.