“Yeah. Because someone’s going to need to take over as president after I graduate. You probably don’t want to be everyone’s therapist either, but maybe we could steer people toward talking to Mrs. Figueroa or the people in the guidance office or whatever.”
“Me?”
“Am I talking to someone else? Of course, you.”
“I just…” Daisy cleared her throat. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to, like, tell the whole school about myself. I barely managed to tell you, and that didn’t exactly go well.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and Daisy tensed, afraid Emmy was about to humiliate her again.
“Are you there?” Daisy asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. No, I get what you’re saying, I guess. You haven’t had too much time to think about this.” She sounded dubious and disappointed.