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“Amira’s lips twitch and she shakes her head like she doesn’t know what to do with me. 'Apology accepted,' she says. 'Though I maybe also owe you an apology.' This surprises me, and it must show on my face. Amira adds, 'Don’t look so shocked. I just mean it’s possible you’re not the only one to blame for us not getting along all these years. You pushed me away, and I pushed back by trying to beat you in any class we were in together. Which, honestly, has been really exhausting. You’re very smart. Most of the time anyway. Though your emotional intelligence could use some work.' That shocks a laugh out of me, and Amira grins. 'So, does this mean we’re good now?' I ask. This almost feels too easy. Too good to be true. 'That depends, are we actually friends now?' There’s a small voice inside of me that wants me to ask for more than that, but I’m not willing to open that can of worms yet. I hold out my hand. 'Friends,' I say.” — Zakiya N. Jamal