Part One

With her small microphone and laptop ready, Riley took a deep breath and channeled her excitement. "And we're back, my dear Patriots! Here we are for another round of school."

Since she was sitting on the steps of one of the side entrances to the school building, she had a perfect view of the courtyard. And from across the way, she spotted Isadora waving goodbye to her younger brother who was just beginning his freshman year.

"But for those in the senior class, welcome to our final year at good 'ole Abigail Adams High." Is eventually found her way over, smiling and quiet, clearly careful not to make a sound that could ruin the first, and arguably, most important, anonymous podcast of the school year.

"The last three years have been full of tears and laughter, even more so for our fellow populars: the chosen ones who hail from the cheerleaders, the jocks, the creatives, and the future scientific leaders of the world." Riley looked at her best friend and winked. "Now's the time for us to reminisce, and become completely unaware that the year is zooming past us."

The courtyard was buzzing with chatter and squeals, occasionally punctuated by loud welcomes and the crowd favorite: "Oh my gosh, it's so good to see you!" Is nudged her in the ribs and pointed at Lucas, the cherished All-Star player and team captain of AA High's lucky baseball team. He was wearing a fitted varsity jacket and ruffling one of his younger twin sibling's hair. Nearby, there were several girls swooning over the team, vulnerable to the boys' charm. Typical.

Riley did her best to ignore him and his friends. "I'll start us off: remember when Dave asked Yindra to the Fall Ball our sophomore year? Or when Sarah was crowned junior Ice Princess at Winter Formal without her dear Prince Wyatt?"

She saw Zay walking up the steps of the main entrance, glowing in his bright blue varsity jacket. She'd almost called out his name, but it couldn't make it past her throat. Next to her, Is seemed to be scanning the crowd for a particular face, and Riley worried that what she was about to say next wouldn't go well with her.

Apologetically, she touched her shoulder and spoke. "Here's one most people have forgotten by now. But who remembers when those awful seniors shoved a particular core group of friends into The Hole? We never thought Matthews, Friar, Hart, Smackle, Minkus, and Babineaux would make it out alive."

In turn, the little genius gave her a scolding look, but Riley pretended not to notice. "But they did. And from then on, we knew they could make it through anything, as long as they were together."

A familiar head of wild, blonde hair bobbed through the crowd, bright and smiling as usual, making her way to her admirers. Her gaze unsurprisingly passed over the two girls sitting on the sidesteps, and she sat on her throne. Or, well, the decades-old, designated bench for the Queen Bee.

"But we were wrong. After one December night, their names would never appear together in a single sentence that didn't include the words 'the end.' Oh, how the mighty had fallen." Next to her, Is was still searching the crowd and checking her watch for the time.

"Coming to you live from the steps of AA High, I wish you all a memorable school year!"

As soon as Riley closed her laptop, Is asked, "Are you ever going to tired of creating your weekly podcasts?"

"What? No."

"Not only do you have to plan what you are going to say and then say it without error, you have to then run the recording through a voice change simulator. Not to mention, that to ensure your anonymity, you have to find a different publicly accessed computer to upload it online. Quite frankly, it doesn't seem worth the time or the effort if no one is listening."

Riley straightened her back and spread her arms out. "My dearest Is, I've told you a thousand times that it's not about the numbers. It's about getting my thoughts out there. Like Gossip Girl, but without all the backstabbing because the world is a much better place than that!"

Is stared at her.

"Okay, fine. If you want numbers, I got over 1000 cumulative listens last year."

Still not impressed, she suggested, "Perhaps more people would listen if you shared your name."

"This is anonymous for a reason. I don't mind the extra effort of trying to hide my identity. Especially if it means you-know-who can't figure out that it's me."

"Statistically speaking, you-know-who already has."

Riley squinted. "Statistically speaking, talking about this at school isn't a smart idea."

"Neither is recording it."

The brunette cracked a smile and brushed her hair out of her face. Admittedly, Is did have a point: she only recorded at school for more authenticity. There was something about hearing her own voice over the hum of oblivious students that made it more real and less like an isolated freak gossiping about the people at their school.

Smiling back at her, Is noted, "I must concede that you've gotten better at your broadcasting position with the school station."

"Thanks, Smackle. I appreciate that," she replied, using her old nickname and smiling warmly, eager for a hug. But Riley noticed that the corner of her lips were turned down and that "Isadora shine" in her eyes had dimmed. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated. "I miss them."

Riley's smile disappeared, but she gently placed a hand on her best friend's shoulder and said, "I know you do."

"Do you miss them?"

Riley dropped her gaze — she wasn't ready for that question. On the tip of her tongue was the answer: she missed them every goddamn day. Every time she saw one of them, she was ready to apologize and move on and be fixed. "I try not to think about them."

Isadora's eyes widened in response. "They're all I think about."

"And yet you still have a perfect 4.0," she said, lifting her hands in the air.

Her friend smiled immediately, and quietly asked, "Is it okay that I do? That I miss them?"

"Of course, Is. You need to feel whatever you feel." Texas. Riley smiled at her. "Missing them is just…a byproduct of what happened. But come on, let's go to first period."

The two of them stood in unison, drawing the attention of the Queen Bee. Their eyes made contact for just a second before Riley looked down to smooth out her cheerleading uniform. She'd needed to wear it today to encourage freshman to try out for the team — the same reason why Is was wearing her National Honor Society cardigan and pin.

Is looped her arm through Riley's, something she'd grown comfortable doing over the past two years, and they headed straight to AP Government - the one advanced placement course Is hadn't taken yet. And the room was empty, except for one pesky teacher.

"Mr. Matthews, greetings. I was unaware that you were teaching AP Government this year. Had I known earlier, I would've had time to find a more suitable and competent replacement for you. Einstein Academy had the best networking system for this type of situation," Is finished her statement with bright eyes and a self-satisfied grin.

"Uh, thanks, Smackle. But I didn't find out until this morning." Cory looked over at his daughter and said, "We missed you this morning."

She almost rolled her eyes. "You say that every morning."

"Riley—"

"Dad, I wish I had time for breakfast with you and Mom and Auggie during the school year, but I have broadcast stuff to get done in the morning. You know that." Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Is step back to pick out their seats.

"And this has nothing to do with—"

"Not at all, Dad," she said, smiling, "it's just school."

"Okay, Riley."

She didn't want to think about breakfast or Texas or even school, because her heart twitched every single time she did. Moving away slowly from her father's desk to the pair (front and center no less) Is had picked out for them, Riley placed her book bag on the table to her right, as Is most often preferred. As she dug through her bag for her new purple notebook, she heard Is gasp behind her. "Oh no."

Jokingly, she asked, "Did the great Isadora Smackle finally forget something on the first day of school? It only took you three years."

"No," Is squeaked.

"Smackle?" Riley turned to see what her best friend was staring at and was welcomed with the sight of a six-foot tall boy, with his hair spiked ever so slightly and self-confident smile flashing on his face. But as soon as he saw the girls, his eyes shifted around nervously. Up, down, Riley, Is, Is, Mr. Matthews, down, Is, up, Riley, Is. With his eyes trained on Isadora, he said, "Ladies."

Buggy Awards. The thought was too sudden for her. "Farkle."

"Riley, hello." His eyes flitted over to her. "You are still more beautiful than the warm sunshine after a light rain."

Summer rain. Farkle was smiling brightly despite her narrowed eyes.

"I didn't realize you would also be waiting to take Advanced Government this year," Isadora chimed beside her.

"Sweetest Isadora," he said softly. "I believed that Advanced Government was worth the wait."

Riley watched as Is's cheeks reddened.

"But if you prefer, I would be willing to switch into a different period."

Half-raising her hand, Riley faked a smile and chimed, "I'd prefer it."

"Unfortunately, this the only period Advanced Government is offered. Isn't that correct, Mr. Matthews?"

"This period shouldn't even be offered by me. I'm not prepared for advanced courses!" He exclaimed from his desk. "You did this!"

Farkle nodded hello at him and tugged the hem of his faded Belgium shirt down as he took the seat behind Riley. She felt comfortable for a second, before she turned around and saw his steady gaze towards Is. "Isadora, are you feeling okay?"

Riley had thought the words, but Farkle'd said them, causing Is to raise her eyebrows. She simply replied, "I'm doing my best given the circumstances. But I do believe you lost the privilege to ask that when you stopped speaking to my best friend and I."

"Two years ago," Riley added.

His stare dropped to his desk, fingers playing with the metal wire of his notebook, and she finally turned around to face the front of the room. Her dad was gripping a single sheet of paper and a trio of wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

"Dad, is something wrong?"

"Well, uh, uh, not at all," he stuttered, "but I should not be teaching this class!"

"No, you shouldn't, Mr. Matthews. So does that mean I can go home?" Maya asked as she sauntered into the classroom in her signature leather jacket and slim patched jeans. Riley knew if she ever tried to wear that outfit, she'd be kicked off the team.

"No, because if I'm suffering, you're suffering. Have a seat, Ms. Hart."

"I'm an artist, I'm always suffering." Is let out a quiet laugh, and the Queen turned her attention to her former friends. "Aw, Smackle, I've missed you. Why don't we ever see each other anymore?"

"I—"

"I mean, look at ya. Already sittin' with Farkle and Riley as if nothing's changed."

"Is is my best friend," Riley replied, keeping her hands tightly folded on her desk. She watched as Maya's smirk faded from her lips. "And a lot's changed."

"Whatever." Maya walked forward through the aisle, a loud thud of sketchbooks and pencils hitting the desk behind Farkle.

"Just so there aren't anymore surprises, Dad, who else is surprisingly taking Advanced Government?"

From the back, Maya answered, "Zay is."

"Perfect," Farkle muttered.

The room was silent, despite other students trickling in as the first bell rang. Zay took the seat by Maya. Then Darby and Sarah entered. Yindra, Dave, Wyatt, Marley. For a second, it was almost like she was back in seventh grade, not a senior in high school.

Even as the classroom filled with more and more students, the seat behind Is remained empty. It was almost like they were waiting for the arrival of one more person. But the Lucas she'd known wasn't interested in government or politics — he wanted to be a vet. Then again, neither was she (or Maya or Zay for all she knew).

Riley relaxed herself when the final bell rang: knowing Lucas he would have been on time. She looked up at her dad, who stood smiling, and nodded.

"Good morning, seniors. Welcome to your last first day of high school. Now, I haven't taught some of you since freshman year, so it's good to see you on the last leg of your adventure," he said. "This is Advanced Comparative Government and I am so sorry you are taking this class first thing in the morning."

Marley raised her hand on Riley's right. "How are you going to relate comparative government to our lives?"

"Ms. Evans, it's nice to see you," he greeted, then threw his hands in the air and said, "I have no idea!"

The students roared with laughter. Suddenly there was a light knocking on the door. Lucas, walking into the classroom, said, "You started without me, Mr. Matthews? I thought you finally liked me after all these years."

"Good morning, Mr. Friar. Do you have a late slip?"

He grimaced. "Not quite, the twins needed help finding their first class."

"It's alright this time, why don't you take the last seat?" Mr. Matthews gestured to the empty seat behind Is and turned his attention back to the class. "This year we will be studying the governments, politics, and societies from six countries around the world: China, Great Britain, Canada, Mexico, Nigeria, and Russia. By focusing on these six, you'll soon learn how to develop a framework of modern politics and government systems to understand how they engage with the global environment."

Riley, and she assumed everyone else, stared blankly at him.

"That's what the pamphlet says," he confessed. "But think of it this way: Abigail Adams is made up of different social groups with their own structures. And while I might not like to admit it, those social groups make up a hierarchy. To maintain peace and strong relations, these groups need to work together by communicating with each other."

Yindra raised her hand. "So are our social groups individual governments or different organizations making up one government?"

"Let's determine what social groups we have on campus first. Mr. Minkus?"

Holding up two fingers, Farkle answered, "The jocks and the cheerleaders."

Her dad wrote his responses on the chalkboard and asked, "You'd consider them two separate groups?"

"I would," Zay said, "I think they're close allies." Canada.

"Anyone else? Ms. Matthews?"

Riley watched her words. "The National Honor Society is a big group on campus."

"The creatives: artists, writers, theater kids," Maya offered.

"But what about the students who don't define themselves by one interest or hobby?" Lucas asked. "The kids who float from group to group?"

"I don't think it's about defining yourself by one interest; I'm part of NHS but because I spend more time practicing with the cheerleading squad, I'm closer with them," she replied immediately, staring straight ahead at her father.

His eyes were digging into her back, she could feel it. She almost liked it.

"That's a good point, Riley," he said. His voice still made her name sound so inviting but she kept her eyes forward. "And sometimes people with different 'main' interests can still find ways to work together."

"Yes, they can, Mr. Friar. Countries like the U.S. may have varying points of interest as opposed to China or Canada. But it's still our nation's leaders to figure out how to maintain the peace between us and them." He gestured towards the words on the board. "For our first semester, we're going to take a close look at Abigail Adams, while learning about the basics of the six countries I talked about earlier. The conclusions you all come up with in December will be used for the following semester for a better understand of how the rest of the world works."

Farkle's hand shot up. "How will we be forming this conclusions?"
"I'm glad you asked," her dad tapped his desk. "Since you guys are seniors now, no more willy-nilly two-day projects. It's time for the big one: for the next four months, you'll work in groups to analyze the social circles of AA High. Watch how people interact and react, how nonverbal communication affects a high tension situation, and how they engage with their community, whether its service to people or the environment. If people change people, imagine how an entire group of people can change their global environment. Class dismissed."

As the rest of her classmates started to shuffle out of the room to catch up outside since the bell hadn't rung yet, she and Is stayed behind. Is asked her dad, "How will we be dividing into groups?"

He looked at her and lifted his hand. "You just did."

Riley looked around her and saw who'd stayed behind. Is to her left, Farkle behind her, Zay and Maya. Lucas. She smiled sweetly. "I'd like—"

"No."

"But—"

"Not a chance."

"But—"

"This is your world now. Sometimes things happen beyond our control. It's up to you to figure out how you'll respond to it." He lightly touched the notes she took in bright blue ink, and then placed a single sheet of instructions on her desk. "Now make me proud."

Riley grabbed her bag and started to huff out the room, but stopped. She needed to get an A in this class to secure a scholarship to one of her top three schools: Columbia, Stanford, and UC Berkeley. Turning around slowly back to face them, she made contact with Is, whose forced smile made her heart wilt. Zay had propped himself on Maya's desk, tucking her hair behind her ear, and Farkle was looking right at her. And Lucas was staring down at his hands, avoiding eye contact with them all. She said, "We'll have to make this work. But there will—"

Farkle interrupted her. "Let me guess: there will be rules. Number one, no talking about the past—"

Zay cut in. "No hugging."

"No emotions." That one was from Maya.

"No leaving less than three people alone in a room together," Lucas said. Riley looked down at her feet.

"I can't be alone with my girl?" Zay whined, reaching over to intertwine his fingers with Maya.

"You can be alone with Maya, Zay. As long as you can promise not to use me to make Maya jealous," Is said quickly. Her joke cut through the tension so precisely that the six of them all laughed.

"Oh Isadora, you stop that."

"We can do this," Riley said confidently. The blonde baseball player finally looked up at her and smiled. And then her heart melted into nothingness. Out of the corner of Riley's eye, she saw Maya shift uncomfortably. "As long as we agree that the last rule is no bay window."

Is and Farkle nodded immediately for her benefit; Zay was nodding while watching Maya carefully tuck her hand beneath her chin, avoiding any sort of eye contact. The genius suggested, "We can split the work up now to finish sooner and meet weekly to make sure everyone's parts are cohesive. We should also work in pairs."

"The instructions say 'work together' on the very top," Riley said, handing the paper over to Is to look over. "And while I'd like nothing more than to split up from everyone else, we need to do well on this project."

"I agree," Maya agreed. "College scholarships don't come easy."

Farkle said, "Alright, so we'll work together at bi-weekly meetings? And we can pick which social groups we want to look at tomorrow. Second period's about to start."

They all murmured their goodbyes, quickly scrambling out the door without another glance in anyone's direction. As Riley headed to the library to upload her podcast online since she had study period, she realized she was trailing quietly behind Lucas. I really like you. The words echoed in her head as they always did when she spotted him in the sea of students.

She maintained at least five steps between them, hoping he'd slip into one of the classrooms eventually. But when he got to the library doors, he stopped and held the door open. With her heart thumping loudly, she breezily passed by him, murmuring, "Thank you."

Lucas flashed her a smile and disappeared amidst the rows and rows of books. She paused, catching her breath, and thought, this is going to be an interesting semester.