Mary Anne Spier is a sensitive soul. She loves with all of her heart, and is so devoted to those she loves it's almost sad. She was devoted to Kristy, though now she admits that, toward the end, her feelings were starting to waver. "She's changed so much." Mary Anne had told me through tears in the girls bathroom one rainy day.

Yes, it rained the day Kristy and Mary Anne's friendship ended. How cliche. Yet appropriate. They had put fifteen years in - the day it ended was sad.

Mary Anne loves the rain. She finds it happy and romantic. Mary Anne sees happiness in everything. This is why I love her.

It was April 12th of this very year that it happened. It's almost Christmas now. We were all still sophomores, Mallory and Jessi were still tucked away at boarding school and SMS, school was almost over. Cokie was a table regular, Mary Anne was still at Kristy's. She didn't take sides in Kristy and I's dispute. I was okay with that. I like her. Stacey was still my friend, though she continued to despise Cokie. All any of us cared about was the fact that in four months, we would officially be upperclassmen. Slowly, we were turning sixteen and feeling more mature. Stacey and Cokie both had their driver's licenses. Things were . . . good.

I'd glanced over toward Kristy's table, so close to ours, like I always did, something inside me burning, wanting to get her. What I saw startled me. Mary Anne Spier, running away, her face streaked in mascara. She wasn't wearing as much of the eyeliner back then, or she would have been a huge mess. Without a word I was off like a shot, chasing her. Nobody else was. How could nobody go after her? This was Mary Anne for god's sake.

By the time she had reached the bathroom, I had caught up. She never was very athletic. I called her name and she looked at me as she pushed the door open. I followed her in wordlessly. She'd sat on the counter, put her face in her hands, and sobbed. I checked the stalls, then sat next to her.

"She's evil, Claud! She's a horrible, horrible person!"

I didn't have to ask who.

"I was just . . . Barbara was showing me an AFI video on her Ipod. She said she thought I might like them. And I did. We were talking about how the singer was really cute. And suddenly Kristy is breathing down my neck and she - and she-"

I had put my arm around her shoulder. "Breathe. You don't have to talk about it."

Mary Anne then took a deep, shuddering breath. She waited a few moments to compose herself a little. "No. People need to know how that woman is." She'd spat vehemently.

I'd pulled back a little in surprise. Mary Anne can get angry, but I've never seen her like this.

"She leans over me and says, 'Wow, Mary Anne. When did you turn into such a freak? You should go sit with Trevor and start cutting yourself.'"

Trevor Sandbourne. He sits alone, always scribbling in his notebook. His hair is long, he wears mascara, and always dresses in black. He's always been a sensitive poet type of guy, but he's taken it to another level. He always wears long sleeves, and rumors go around that he cuts himself. The Emo scene is not a large one at SHS, though Trevor is definitely a prime example of it. But he doesn't hurt anybody.

I sighed. "Don't listen to her, Mary Anne. Kristy's just-"

"It's not so much whatshe said," Mary Anne interrupted me, "It's that she said it in front of a huge crowd of people. Loudly. They all laughed, Claudia." Her chin quivered again. "She made them all laugh at me."

I hugged Mary Anne hard, and another girl came into the restroom. "Let's go." I told Mary Anne. "We're outta here. I'll buy you a Starbucks."

We left. Mary Anne said that was the first time she'd ever ditched class. We'd walked to Starbucks in the rain, and she told me All About Kristy over a peppermint mocha. How Kristy was getting more power hungry. How she fed off of other people's approval. She would make fun of people, they would laugh. They all loved her, for some reason. Mary Anne figured she must be crazy, and she loved Kristy, too.

"I knew in the back of my mind there was something wrong." She'd said, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. "I knew she'd changed, and that she was becoming a person I didn't like. I knew what she did to you. I just . . . "

"You never thought it would be you she turned on next." I replied.

"Yes. I wonder, does she even know what she's doing? Or is it just Kristy being Kristy?"

I glanced out the window, and was glad we got here when we did. The rain was really pounding down.

"She knows what she's doing." I replied softly, hypnotized by the rain.

Mary Anne sighed. "I suppose she does."

"I hate her." I had nearly whispered.