We don’t stay and chat with the dogs’ owners as long as we usually do, and I feel a little bit bad about that. But when your best friend tells you huge news, you just don’t have room for any other conversations.

After all the dogs are returned to their homes, we sit down on the Adirondack chairs by the stadium so we can talk without any interruptions.

“So did you just find out?” I ask again, looking down at my feet. My hot pink toenail polish is now chipped and baby pink from being exposed to so much sun.

“No.” She doesn’t look at me. “I’ve known since the end of the school year.”

I nod and finally look up at her, and she’s all slumped over her knees in the chair, instead of sitting back comfortably—the whole purpose of an Adirondack chair.

We sit there quietly, not talking, even though I have a million questions. Then I ask, “How come you didn’t tell me?”

“Remy, you were so depressed about Danish, and then so busy with the dogs, and basically, I just didn’t feel like you’d care that much.” She finally leans back in the chair.

“Not care? Hello? Micayla, you’re my best friend, and Seagate is my favorite place in the universe. How could I not care?” I feel myself yelling, and I don’t want to yell. I don’t want to be mad. I just can’t understand this at all.

She’s been keeping this from me for weeks. She’s never kept a secret like this before—not that I know about, at least.

“I just wanted to enjoy the summer like we’ve always done,” she tells me. “If you knew from the beginning, you’d be obsessing about it, telling me about which places stay open all year, who I should be friends with, y’know.”

It’s getting chilly, and I wish I had my hooded sweatshirt with me. I fold my arms across my chest to stay warm. “Well, I guess you don’t want my opinions,” I say. “Fine. Now I know.”

“How about not thinking about yourself for one minute?” Micayla asks. “Okay? I’m telling you something big, and you’re just focusing on how it affects you.”

“I’m focusing on how I could have helped you. That’s what friends do.” I don’t know what else to say, but words keep coming out of my mouth. “And I don’t know why you’re even stepping into a school in the summer. Summer is the one time when you can put school totally out of your head.” Clearly, I’m not only thinking about myself. I’m thinking about how I could’ve been a much better friend if I’d only known.

“Thanks for being so supportive,” Micayala says, getting up from the chair. “I have to pick up a loaf of bread for my mom on the way home, so I’ll just see you soon.”

Micayla leaves me sitting there. I take the back way home, through the neighborhood, not on the main road. I don’t want to see anyone. My hope is that stopping by my favorite house with the colored beach pails will cheer me up, but it doesn’t.

Bennett’s away, Micayla’s mad at me, and all the dogs are at home for the night.

It feels like the time I got separated from my parents at the Museum of Modern Art. It only lasted a few minutes, but they were a dreadful few minutes. I was completely lost. I feel like that now. Lost and totally alone.