Only one week before school starts up again. How did it go by so quickly? My computer clock reads 4:30. The weather is still nice, the pool is still clean, why not call up Maddie and Jen, my two best friends? They reply instantly, like always, and within 10 minutes we are staring at the clear pool water in my backyard. Maddie, the fashionista that she is, sports a frilly neon yellow suit with matching flip-flops. I wear my most comfortable blue one piece and modest Jen wears basketball shorts and a semi-quick drying t-shirt, I don’t blame her, it’s not that hot outside.

With a push from Jen into the freezing water we start to let loose. We swim until our skin is pruney and our teeth is chattering, laughing all the way through. After drying off, we go inside to eat ice cream, popcorn, chips, cookies, and everything in between. We watch a movie marathon of both good and horrible films, laughing and crying all the way through. At the end of the last film, a cheesy spy flick, we all sigh, one collective sigh. Our summer is over. We would soon have to go back to the drama and stress of seventh grade. No more staying up late texting, waking up at noon, swimming until the sun goes down. Not for another 180 days. We can still hang out, eat together, talk, and have fun even if homework consumes most of our freetime. We are happy. Our trifecta, trio, posse, gang, or whatever you want to call us, is going to have a great year, I can feel it.

Weeks pass with exponentially growing boringness. The excitement of a new year has died off quickly and teachers are becoming less and less enthusiastic, that meaning more routines and droning lectures.

It is 9:30 on a Wednesday night before another dragging day of school. Thanksgiving break is next week, so homework is light. I called Jen half an hour ago, and we’ve been gossipping ever since. Teachers? Mr. Keck swore in class. Enemies? Bianca Martin just got a new phone and has been talking about it non-stop. The complex crush network of our seventh grade class? Heidi Ross has been hanging out with Matthew Garner. We start talking about Lindsey Weston and her adorable puppy when Jen abruptly throws a curveball at me.

     “So, what about you? Who’s your crush?” Jen prompts.

     “Who says I have one?” I answer with phony confidence. You could hear my hands going to my hips and my chin jutting upwards.

     She snorts, “You are a terrible liar, Em. Come on, spill!”

     “You go first, Jennifer.” I answer, using her much despised first name. I desperately hope she would just drop the subject. There is a long pause before I tease, “Not so easy is it?”

     “Fine.” she replies, obviously annoyed. “Uhh, Nick Baker?”

My eyes bulge and my jaw drops, “Nose picking Nick! Seriously?” Earlier we were talking about how no one would be his dance partner in P.E. Wait, did she answer in a question?

     “Umm, yeah.  That’s him… Nicky Baker… “ She answers awkwardly.  She is obviously lying, she has a crush but it definitely isn’t Nick Baker. I decide to wait till morning before asking for details regarding her “true love”.

I hang up with a little white lie and lay down on my bed, trying to analyze her answer. Crush, yes. Nick Baker, no. Results? Inconclusive.

Weeks later, when the Christmas decorations start going up, my cell phone plays out a short catchy tune, the customized ringtone for anything coming from Jen or Maddie. It’s a short text from Jen to both Maddie and I, reading: “check out my vid? :P” then a youtube link to her rapping channel. Being the BFF that I am, I click on the link and wait for it to load. I expect a rap from Kanye West or something but instead, it’s the song Drag Me Down by One Direction. Jen hates One Direction, I think. I’ve personally never heard the song so I click play and give it a try. Once the three minutes and 22 seconds are up, I sit zoned out in my chair, confused. The song is about a guy who, with the support of his girlfriend, could never be “dragged down.”

It is repeating the message of “stand by me” over and over, and while it is a great song and everything, I couldn’t help but notice how serious and deep the song is. Jen’s covers were always light and fun but this is really, really, deep, and frankly, kind of sad. I push strange thoughts out of my head and decide to not read into it as much. After clicking the “Like” button a trillion times, I text Jen back. “sounded gr8t!! almost 300 views! :D” I’m about to close the tab when a sudden urge to watch the video again strikes. I listen intently, the gears in my analytical brain turning as fast as possible. By the time the third replay is over, I’m left with a single thought: Was her voice deeper?

This is the seventh straight day since winter break that Jen hasn’t eaten with us. Seventh. That is the longest streak any of us has had since kindergarten, when we decided that we were going to eat together forever.
     “Where ya goin’, Jen? Game center’s that way. Wednesdays at lunch remember?”
     “Sorry, guys. I, uh, have to talk to, uh, my lab partner! About, uh, our lab notes?” she replies incredibly lamely, her excuses for not sitting with us has been getting worse.

I raise one eyebrow in suspicion, but before I call her bluff, Maddie lets Jen off the hook and tells her to meet us after school. Jen sighs and I shoot a questioning look towards Maddie. By the time I turn back to Jen, she is racing down the hall in the general direction of the office. Hmm. Joana Leandres, Jen’s lab partner, hangs out with the principal and the secretaries? I think not. I walk towards game center with Maddie, asking her why she let Jen get away with such an obvious lie.
     “The three of us are best friends. If she doesn’t want to tell us something, I’m sure there’s a great reason. Give her space let her do her thing. She’s your friend, not your slave.”

Maddie’s insightful response is enough to make me regret being so suspicious and angry at one of my besties, but there is still a part of my meticulous brain that is bent on solving this mystery. The mystery of the disappearing BFF!

18 hands of blackjack and five games of poker later, Maddie and I leave the game center and head towards fifth period math. On the way, we spot bald Mr. Gray, our school psychologist, in a very formal suit and tie, hankerchief and all. After snickering about his modern school time fashion sense, or lack thereof, we notice someone walking with him. Jen. Sure she’s been acting strange in the past few weeks, maybe months, but it isn’t at a psychologist level of weird- is it? Their walking path seems to be heading towards the office. Maybe Jen just had a question, or Mr. Gray needed to deliver a message about a dentist appointment. Maybe Jen’s mom is dropping off a forgotten binder. What if she’s asking Mr. Gray how to cut off our friendship? Did I offend her in some way? What would I do if Jen leaves our little pack? After a panic attack and a rush of guilt, I compose myself and decide to relax and shrug the encounter off, but my brain doesn’t let go. More clues.

More weeks pass with growing awkwardness and distance from Jen. I feel guilty, like I offended her or was insensitive, but on top of that, I’m scared and sad. I have been Jen’s best friend since before I could remember, we’ve been through everything together, and I just can’t imagine ever having to hesitate or stop myself from calling her about great news. We’ve always been there for each other when we wanted to solve problems or just talk. That feeling is draining away, and I don’t know why. Not knowing just scares me.

Jen still isn’t in class yet. The bell rang five minutes ago. Jen is never late. Is she sick? She seemed fine health wise yesterday at school, she sounded normal last night on the phone, if not distant and distracted. She didn’t walk with me today, but that’s normal for Wednesdays. Has Maddie talked to her yet?

     “Psst. Psst! MADDIE!” I whisper shout, throwing an eraser at the back of her head.

Slamming her flowery pen down and rolling her eyes, she turns to me and hisses, “Em! Mrs. Garrison is gonna look up any second! Take out your notebook before she yells at you!”
     “Have you seen Jen today?” I reply, cutting to the chase
     “No. She’s probably just stuck in traffic. Shh! She’s moving!” Maddie said, nodding towards Mrs. Garrison while turning in her seat.

Maybe I’m overreacting.  She’s probably going to run in any second and give Mrs. Garrison her late slip.  Right? Mrs. Garrison starts her lecture.  Students rapidly take notes, trying to keep up with her racing words. My notebook remains blank. Jen hasn’t missed a day of school since second grade when she had the flu. More science words. She hasn’t been herself lately. What if she did something stupid? Hands go up. Hands go down. Where is she? Cells. Cytoplasm. DNA. Words fly by, none of them mean anything to me. Membrane. Nucleus. Mitochondria. Knock, knock, knock. The door! I could see Mr. Gray’s bald head through the little square window they put in all of the classroom’s doorways. Mrs. Garrison steps out and they whisper quietly in the hall. Then, all of a sudden, the door opens, Mrs. Garrison nods and Mr. Gray turns away from us. Jen, barely recognizable with even shorter hair and baggier clothes, walks nervously to the front of the room, trailed by the psychologist. Jen, her head still down, swallows hard, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath.

     Mr. Gray begins to speak, “Class, I would like to introduce a new student. He is a little nervous so please be kind to him.” he pauses, “Meet Jordan.”