Sam hadn't meant to start a rumour.
He'd just said something — one small thing, half true, half exaggerated — to make someone laugh. He'd forgotten about it by the afternoon.
His best friend, Joe, hadn't.
By Wednesday, Joe wasn't sitting next to Sam. By Thursday, he wasn't answering texts. By Friday, Sam heard from someone else what his one small thing had grown into.
He felt sick.
He went to Joe's house. Joe's mum let him in, quietly, the way adults do when they're watching to see what you'll do.
Joe sat in the garden and didn't look at Sam when he sat down.
"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I said something I shouldn't. I wasn't thinking about how it would affect you. I was just — I wanted to seem funny. It was stupid."
Joe was quiet for a long time.
"You made people think something that wasn't true," said Joe.
"I know."
"You could have told them it was wrong."
"I know. I should have."
Joe looked at him then. "Would you, if it happened again?"
Sam met his eyes. "Yes."
The silence stretched.
"Okay," Joe said finally.
It took another two weeks before things felt normal. Sam knew he'd earned every one of those days.
But Joe stayed. That, Sam decided, was something to be careful with forever.