Nanette trudged through the school parking lot, watching soggy bits of ice leap into the air with each of Tommy's blue-booted steps. They had arrived early, and the school entrance was quiet. She grimaced politely in the direction of the new janitor, a pimply twenty-something Mahnomen High alumni who avoided her gaze and continued shoveling.

Nanette offered a quick prayer to the heavens that her fate after graduation would not be similar to his.

Mahnomen was too small to warrant separate buildings for the middle and high schools, so grades 7th-12th were all crammed into one wide, brick building, which had not changed much since it's construction in the 80s. Inside, students were greeted with harsh, fluorescent lighting and unsightly yellow lockers. Posters adorned the wall, bearing the mandates "Dream Big" and "You're Not Alone. Reach Out for Help".

Two dinged yellow lockers were covered in photos, notes and mementos: those belonging to Cassie Witucki and Mitch Alms. Nanette averted her gaze from Cassie's serene, smiling face. She hadn't known either student very well, but that hardly mattered. She still felt the loss deeply, as did everyone in school. 

It took her five minutes to open her locker- the combination lock rarely worked the first few times she tried it- and began shedding her layers: coat, hat, gloves, scarf.

Students bearing muted expressions and red cheeks filled the hall. Boots squeaked and lockers creaked opened.

"Excuse me, move. Thank you."

Julie Towers materialized from the throng of students, tossing a dark curtain of hair over one shoulder as she opened her locker with a metallic clink. The tinny notes of a pop song echoed as she yanked one ear bud out.

"Did you finish that chart for history?" she asked Nanette, glancing at her phone.

Julie's eyes were dark and flat and her skin a beautiful hue of bronze, a homage to her Native heritage. When she smiled, the effect was mesmerizing- a fact she knew and often used to her advantage.

"You can't copy mine."

"Oh, come on, Nan," Julie wheedled, flashing a winning grin in her best friend's direction. Nanette rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Deitrich is gonna start getting suspicious," Nanette muttered as she leaned over to unzip her backpack.

"Thank youuu," Julie said in a buoyant, sing-songy voice as she snatched the paper from Nanette's hand. "I'll give it back to you in English."

"Yeah, yeah."

Julie shut her locker and looped an arm amicably through Nanette's as the pair made their way down the hall.

There were times Nanette wondered if she and Julie had only become friends out of convenience. Julie's last name ensured she and Nanette sat next to each other in every class and Julie's dad was the new district Sheriff, so she and Nanette saw each other outside of school as much as in it.

Initially, Nanette hadn't known what to make of this large, overbearing specimen of a teenager who was the only girl in the grade to come close to Nanette's 5'11 frame. Julie had been homeschooled until her sophomore year, so at a teacher's request, Nanette had agreed to show the new girl around. Before long, it had become clear that Julie didn't need any help assimilating to high school.

Boys- including Tommy, much to Nanette's chagrin- flocked to Julie like gnats to fruit, resulting in the unfortunate fact that Julie had as many female enemies as friends. Julie thrived on the drama, often talking with several boys at once and causing emotional chaos whenever she felt school was getting too boring.

Despite her flaws, Julie was alive in a way the other students were not. She had burst into Nanette's life like a hurricane, forcibly widening Nanette's myopic world and sweeping the quiet teen along with her. Before Julie, in the wake of her mother's abandonment, Nanette had resigned herself to a life in Mahnomen after high school. But Julie encouraged Nanette to pursue her photography- had gifted Nanette a Canon camera for her birthday- and at Julie's insistence, Nanette had visited the same colleges as the other girl: Minnesota State, St. Thomas, and a smattering of others. 

Theirs was a friendship of true opposites, and if she were honest with herself, Nanette always half-expected Julie to up and leave her at any minute.

"Did you hear about Amanda?" Julie whispered, leaning in and glancing around conspiratorially.

"Sellers or Halvorson?"

"Sellers. Her parents are getting divorced. She was crying about it in the bathroom yesterday."

"That's horrible," Nanette said with feeling. Her dad worked with Mrs. Sellars, who had always seemed happy with her marriage. Nanette supposed you never really knew what was really going on between a person's ears.

Julie shrugged. "Mom's always threatening to leave my dad if he doesn't stop with the drinking, but we both know neither of those things are gonna happen. Don't tell your dad I told you that," she added sharply.

"Of course I won't," Nanette said, offended that Julie would even ask. This had always been the mandate of their bond: tell no one else the truth about the other.