Zoe

Robert....

Zoe winced as she said the name.

Robert was Zoe's best friend and she loved him more than anyone she knew. He was skinny and awkward and wore glasses with blue frames, and whenever he approached an automatic sliding door, he extended his hand and flicked his wrist, forcing the door open like a Jedi.

Robert was Zoe's only friend who knew about her dad's drinking problem and he was her only friend who disapproved of drinking altogether—although he was especially disapproving of Zoe's drinking. She got flustered as she wondered how she was going to tell Robert the reason she was going to run away, because he was so judgmental.

Zoe

You're such an idiot. You're such an idiot!

She was speaking to herself, about herself. She realized in a flash that talking to Robert about her problem wasn't even an option right now, because just two days ago, Robert had kissed her—or tried to kiss her. They were draped over each other on Robert's couch after trading backrubs, watching late night cartoons, just as they always did when they hung out. The kiss was a botched attempt from the start—a bad angle of approach—and they only ended up bumping chins before Zoe pushed him away. And just like that, their friendship dissolved. She didn't even have to try to avoid him the next two days at school, because he was doing such a good job of avoiding her.

Zoe's mind raced. She could go over there. She could use this night as the catalyst to renew their friendship. She would even tell Robert the truth about her drinking and would take whatever judgment he hammered out.

But she couldn't. She felt too terrible about what happened that the prospect of seeing Robert's sad face was frightening. She should have known that he would fall for her from the start. Zoe did not think she was pretty—she thought she had a plain face and hair and she hated her huge legs—but she knew she was the right level of prettiness to attract boys like Robert—boys who were too awkward and scared to approach prettier or more popular girls. And she should have known that, in Robert's mind, her touching him and hugging him and wrestling with him always held a promise of something more than platonic friendship. When she thought of seeing Robert, she saw a side of herself that she hated, and she felt like a tease, a whore. She knew she would have to face it eventually, because the thought of losing Robert's friendship forever was much more terrible than facing him. But tonight was not the night.