Nine “I can’t help you with this,” I tell Joel and push the scrap of paper back across the table. My eyes are burning, but I can’t let him see that. “Why not?” Because you’re an ass and you’re only using me to get to her and I can’t believe I actually thought there was something else going on here. “Because she’s my friend,” I tell him, deciding there’s no need to spell out the obvious. “I can’t set up my best friend.” “But it’s just a game, Katie, remember?” “Maybe, but I know for sure that Paige would never again be my friend if I helped you tag her.” “Did she act like your friend at Tyson’s party?” “No. But...” “But what?” “That was different.” “How?” “She didn’t actually set up the mobbing. It wasn’t intentional. She just didn’t stop it once it started.” Why am I getting into this argument with him? It’s all irrelevant now anyway. “It seems about the same to me.” I shrug and dig through my purse, looking for my wallet so I can get money to pay for my dinner.
