“Did you hear about Summer and Kyle?” Her eyes twinkle with the thrill of a new story, something she seemingly can’t get enough of.

Gossip is something that keeps Gale satisfied, and distracts her from the life she finds so miserable. (Rich and loving parents, devoted boyfriend, great college, what could _possibly_ be worse?) It’s like a drug to her.

“No! Tell me!” Despite my determination to be void of emotion, my trademark grin marks its spot on my face.

My face, with my clear and dark skin, my beautiful full lips, and my effortlessly perfect eyebrows. At least, that’s how it looks according to Gale.

“Okay, sit down, I’ve got a _lot_ to unpack.”

I take a seat next to her on the park bench, ignoring the drops of rain still not dry soaking through my jeans. Gale is my source of news; I’m not often at parties or hangouts of the locals my age, so I would be oblivious if it weren’t for her.

“So you remember about the Max’s spring party? The one you couldn’t come to?” Of course I remembered; I’d cancelled on Gale last minute to pick up an extra shift at my second job, money I desperately needed.

“When we first came, Max was acting all weird. She wouldn’t eat, she refused to participate in activities, and she asked the most _bo-o-oring_ questions when we finally got her to play paranoia.”

“Wait, remind me who was at the party again?” I intervened, because it’s hella hard to keep track of everyone when you’re not there seventy percent of the time.

“Me, Richi, Max, Summer, Kyle, Asher, Katrina, and Ruth.”

I make a quick overview in my head of all the party-goers:

**Richi**: Gale’s boyfriend. (She’d told me he wasn’t coming and that the party would just be us girls having some fun, but plans had obviously changed after I cancelled) Six foot, curly brown hair, strong, yadda yadda, classic perfect boyfriend. Boring.

**Max**: The happy friend: always laughing and smiling, and always made fun of for being as tall as Richi. Half Korean, half white.

**Summer**: I wouldn’t call her a dumb blonde, because I hate stereotypes, but other people definitely would. She’s pretty, and I admire her for her ability to stay calm in any situation.

**Kyle**: I hate him. I hate his guts. That guy is bad news in every which way, and if he was a flag he’d be the color of blood. Also, I try to ignore the fact that I had a crush on him for the first five minutes I knew him (before he said ten unacceptable slurs)

**Asher**: He’s nice; we’ve had one conversation about the sky. Otherwise, I barely know him.

**Katrina & Ruth**: Twin sisters. Although they’re not identical in appearance, they’re basically the same person, and everyone treats them as such. Sometimes I wonder if they like it or they hate it.

I zone back in, and Gale is already somewhere down the timeline where I have no idea what’s happening.

“… and so Kyle being Kyle punched Asher. But Asher didn’t back down; He was just so calm, his face stoic, like a sheet of paper. Well, a sheet of paper with a bleeding nose. Asher just walked out…”

Sometimes, this stuff sounds like something out of a movie. I often find myself wishing I could actually be there when it’s happening, and see if it all actually happens or if Gale is blowing things out of proportion.

“… Somehow, Katrina ended up upside down, and we couldn’t get her down, so she ended up fainting. When she woke up, she couldn’t remember…”

Seriously. Why was Katrina upside down? Were they building a plane or some other stupid shit?

“… Richi overheard Asher telling Ruth and Katrina that Max’s dog died, which is why she was so sad, and that Max was looking for _drugs_ to ease the pain, but that could be wrong…”

What’s it like to be able to idly gossip? What’s it like for arguments between friends to be your biggest worry? Bigger than money, than cold, than when I can eat next.

“… and of course stupid fucking Kyle asked Max if she ate her dog, which is so racist and wrong, and that was when I took Richi to the bathroom and told him it was time to kick Kyle from the friend group…”

I absentmindedly play with one of my dark coils. _Finally_, it’s high time that Kyle is gone.

“…then again, did Max ever _really_ have a dog? I’ve literally never seen it, and our hangouts are always at her house…”

The cute old lady that works at the local grocery store walks by with her cat on a leash. The cat’s name is Radish; Radish could assassinate my whole family and I would still love him.

“… we all confronted Kyle, told him that if he didn’t become a better person we wouldn’t be his friend anymore, and then Summer _sided_ with him, which was honestly really sad because …”

Poor Summer. She was smitten with Kyle; barely listened to what he ever said, just looked at his beautiful face.

“… and then when we- Grace? Are you even listening?”

“What?” My head snaps to look at her.

I see her eyes cloud, and she looks hurt.

“If you didn’t want to listen, you could’ve just told me.”

“No, Gale, it’s not like that, I’ve just got so much on my mind-“

“I understand. Always too busy for your _best friend_. I’m busy too, anyways.”

She gets up and walks away.

And somehow, I don’t feel guilty.

Somehow, I know it’s not entirely my fault. Not this time.

I always, _always_ listen to what Gale has to tell me.

I can’t remember the last time I could tell her what I was struggling with.