If someone had told me that friendship could feel like a test, I would've laughed. But as I stared at Zariah's familiar smile and remembered the name flashing on her phone — Darby.💅💋 — it didn't feel like a joke anymore.
It felt like betrayal.
The next morning, I sat on the edge of my bed, holding the anonymous note in my hand again:
"Careful who you trust. Darby plays chess while you're still learning checkers."
The words gnawed at my thoughts.
Zariah knocked on our dorm room door (even though Sophie and I had told her she didn't need to). She stepped in, humming, her curly hair bouncing like her mood. Her outfit was effortlessly stylish — as usual — and her energy was bright.
Too bright.
"Morning!" she chirped. "We're still doing lunch later, right?"
I nodded but didn't smile. I couldn't.
We met at a quiet café off campus — the kind with oversized mugs and indie music that only Sophie usually appreciated. I stared at the steam rising from my chai latte, my mind a tornado.
Zariah took a sip of her iced mocha and finally looked up. "Okay. Spill. You've been acting weird since yesterday."
I bit my lip. "You lied to me."
Her brows shot up. "What?"
"You said you and Darby weren't close. But she's in your phone. You're still texting her."
Her face froze. She blinked once. Then again.
"Okay… yeah," she said finally, "I didn't tell you everything."
My chest tightened. "Why?"
She sighed, and suddenly, all her brightness dimmed.
"Because I didn't know how to say it without you hating me."
Zariah leaned in, her voice low. "Darby and I were friends… once. Summer program. She helped me get through something I'm not ready to talk about. We stayed in touch. But when I told her I got into Princeton, she gave me… instructions."
I swallowed. "Instructions?"
"She said if I happened to run into you, I should 'observe.' Report back."
My heart dropped like a stone.
"I didn't want to. But she's got photos of me. From that summer. I was going through stuff… I looked rough. She threatened to leak them and ruin any chance I had at fitting in."
I stared at her, searching for any sign she was lying. But her eyes… they were glassy. Real.
"I swear, Charlotte," she whispered. "I didn't tell her anything real. Not after I got to know you."
"So you were spying at first."
Her silence was answer enough.
Back in the dorm that evening, I told Sophie everything. Every word. Every pause. Every tear in Zariah's voice.
"So?" I asked. "What do we do?"
Sophie exhaled sharply and crossed her arms. "She betrayed you. But… she also told you the truth."
"She's scared."
"She should be."
There was a long silence. Then Sophie said, "We keep her close."
"What? Why?"
"Because if Darby's planning something bigger… we'll need to know. And Zariah? She just became our inside source."
I don't know if I forgave Zariah yet.
But I understood her.
And sometimes, understanding someone is the first step to saving them.
Or saving yourself.