Page 108 of As You Walk On

Hugging the penguin close to her chest, she says, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” I reply firmly. “For the group.”

“But we’re not...”

“Friends?” I raise my eyebrows.

She nods into the penguin’s head.

“I know.” I pick at a loose thread on her blanket. “But I fucked up that night for everyone. I want to make things right.”

“You know,” Makayla says, laying the penguin on her desk before sitting next to me. “This doesn’t count as accomplishing your own dare. Selfless sacrifices aren’t a personal goal.”

“Oh, trust me,” I say, beaming, “my motives are completely selfish.”

She snorts. “Let me guess: Luca?”

“No.”

“Math obsession aside, Luca’s a snack.” She waggles her eyebrows.

Rubbing my suddenly damp palms across the knees of my joggers, I say, “I want to help him finish his dare too. Another promposal.” As much as that’s going to suck considering it won’t bemehe’s promposing to. “I could use some help with date suggestions, though.”

“Wait, you’re not—”

I shake my head before she can finish her question.

“He doesn’t want anything to do with me,” I comment.

Not after what I said, I almost tell her. I’m sure Luca already has. My green Luigi- and Yoshi-sock-covered feet slide across the hardwood.

“Plus,” I add with a defeated sigh, “since Jay’s not paying anymore, I can’t exactly afford the big, magically gay prom night I wanted. Luca deserves better than a chicken finger dinner and a date rocking one of his pops’ old suits.”

Thankfully, Makayla doesn’t react once I finish word vomiting on her bed.

“You really care that much about what others think of you?”

I laugh. “Like you don’t?”

She shrugs. It’s almost believable, considering her appearance. Hair bundled up in a chaotic bun on top of her head. An off-the-shoulder peach top with white shorts. Barely any makeup on.

For a long moment, she openly studies me. It’s like she’s trying to unlock a door. Unearth a hidden treasure.

Sorry, Makayla, nothing special here.

“Should we, uh...” I signal to the ring light. “The video.”

We’re recording content for her YouTube channel. A get-to-know-me tag thingy. I don’t know.

“Yeah.” She grabs her phone from the bed. But she doesn’t mount it on the ring light. Instead, she taps opens a file. “Would you mind watching this first?”

“What is it?”

She wobbles a little, passing her phone to me.

“A video I made this weekend about reputations. The harassment me and other girls have had to deal with.” She wrings her hands. “And the people that call themselves friends when you’re going through this.”

“Oh.” I delicately cradle her phone in my hands. “Okay.”

---