"So... who's bed did you end up in last night? Before mine, of course." I asked Clara, who was squinting over at me through the strands of her hair that had fallen into her face. She waltzed into my house last night, drunkenly falling over top of me. I have no idea what time it was when she did that. I got home around 2, after Jesse had insisted on driving me. So, it must have been hours after that.

I shouldn't have given her a key. I realize that now, of course. It seemed like a good idea, all those years ago when my mom started working night shifts at the hospital.

"Brett's." Clara let out without hesitation. She didn't even look ashamed that she had slept with her ex boyfriend. You know, the one she said she would never even talk to again.

"I'd say something about how you need to try something new, but was there even a guy at that party who haven't you slept with before?" I asked her as I rolled my eyes. The way the sun was peaking into my blinds made me think it was already past noon.

"Jesse." Clara said, with a raise of her eyebrow. She paused for a second after that, seemingly thinking through her next answer. "Otherwise, there's a couple of other guys... but if they had a chance, well they would have already had the chance."

"Well, next time you get the chance to do Jesse, go ahead and do him. Maybe he'll lay off my case." I felt the grimace on my face as I remembered how hard he had tried to convince me to let him come in last night, when he was dropping me off.

"How long are you guys supposed to pretend you're still dating? It's been like two months now." Clara dropped her voice as she said the last part, even though there was no one around to hear us. A habit, I guess. When a secret becomes so ingrained in your life, it's hard to forget your fear of people overhearing you.

It's been months of hushed conversations, the five of us huddled together in cars, or deserted parking lots. Months of looking over our shoulders to see if anyone else was listening. Months of pretending that night hadn't happened. Months of getting our stories straight in case someone ever asked.

"I don't know. I thought when he said we had to make everyone think we were still together so they didn't ask questions about why we broke up, he meant a couple of weeks. I didn't think he would drag it on like this." I stretched my arms over my head as I said it, feeling the stiffness from having Clara's legs kicking me in the back all night begin to fade away.

"I wish we could just stop this all. I bet no one even cares anymore." I continued.

"Lilly, someone died. I'm pretty sure they still care. Besides, I can't risk it. Imagine this got out? I would never get into college. You wouldn't either." Clara sat up as she spoke, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

"I just hate carrying this secret around. It's starting to rot inside me." I dropped my eyes down to my fingers, which had wound themselves in the knitted material of my favourite blanket. It was true after all, I could feel it. The necrosis of the lie seeping into my bones.

"Yeah, well... we don't have a choice. Do we?" Clara reminded me. "It's that or jail."

"You're overreacting." I picked at my perfectly manicured nails as I said it. It was my hope anyways, that she was blowing it out of proportion. I felt the creeping doubt of my own words in my stomach. Truthfully, I didn't know whether she was overreacting or not.

Clara titled her head, giving me a look that said are you really that dumb?

"I know. I know. We don't want to find out." I beat her to her answer. It's the same answer I've heard over and over again. From her, from Jesse. From Brett. From Khalil.

"Where were you last night, anyways? You disappeared for like two hours." Clara asked me.

I slumped back down onto the bed at her words. I knew my absence would be noticed. Is it ever not?

"I went for a walk." I told her. It was the truth. After I ran into that guy from school, I walked to the park at the end of the block. And there I sat, alone with my thoughts.

"A walk?" She asked me dubiously. Clara knew when I was lying. It's a good thing everyone else didn't.

"Yes. A walk." I told her, trying to avert my gaze. She didn't let me though, she just moved her head back in my line of sight.

"A two hour walk?" Clara narrowed her eyes at me. "What aren't you telling me? What did you do on this walk?"

"Well, I smoked a cigarette with some guy. By smoke, I mean had a single puff and coughed my lungs out." I went to continue, since that really wasn't an important part of my walk, but I should have known that Clara would halt any conversation at the mention of the simple word guy.

"A guy?" Clara said, and she looked like a puppy who's owner had just said the word walk. "What guy?"

"I don't know." I told her truthfully. "Some guy that goes to our school."

"You just casually stopped and had a cigarette with a guy you don't know?" Clara asked me, her tone was hinting that I wasn't telling the truth. "Since when do you smoke?"

"I don't smoke." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Lilly, I love you, but what you're saying right now makes no sense. You left a party full of your friends to go smoke a cigarette with some random guy you don't know?"

My eyes rolled again. "They're not my friends. You're my friend."

"They're not your friends? Since when?" Clara looked confused.

"Since... I don't know. I feel like everything has changed now. Since it happened. You don't feel that way? I feel like we repeat the same weekend, over and over again. With the same people, doing the same thing." I explained rather poorly.

"Well, that's high school for you." Clara quipped out quickly, as if her sentence required no thought.

"Our high school is huge. It's the same forty people at those parties every weekend."

"I guess..." Clara looked away from me as she said the words. "We know those people. We love those people. I don't know what to tell you."

"I just... I want to feel things again. You remember when we first got to high school, and everything was exciting? Nothing is exciting anymore. I don't care about those people."

A frown formed on Clara's face as I spoke, but not the kind of frown that made me feel like she was concerned. A disgusted kind of frown, like my words were simply not what she wanted to hear.

"You sound depressed. Like seriously that's the kind of stuff that a depressed person would say." She said finally.

"You're a bitch. You know that right?" I glared at her.

"No." She said as she wrapped her arms around me. "I'm not a bitch. I'd still love you if you were depressed. But you're not... right? You're not depressed. You can't be depressed. Imagine our fall from social graces if you had to go to one of those like... rehab places."

"Clara, for someone who's got an A in every class since middle school, you sure are fucking stupid sometimes. Depressed people don't go to rehab." I hugged her back, though, slightly reluctantly.

"You're not answering my question. Are you, or are you not depressed?" Clara pressed on, her voice becoming slightly concerned.

"I'm not depressed." I told her. "I'm just... not happy."