The semifinals of the East Los Angeles Pub League were being held—this year—at a bar called Donut Shoppe, which might in other contexts be ironic but which in Silver Lake meant a bar that sold donuts. Microbrew artisanal donuts.

The bar smelled of burnt sugar, and the floor was a multicolored oil slick of spilled beer and sprinkles. Nina handed Laura a cruller and took her over to meet QuizDick, Master of Trivia Ceremonies and stakeholder in one of the more successful YouTube trivia shows (you’d be surprised). His real name was Howard, but nobody called him that.

QuizDick looked at Nina suspiciously; she and he had history. However, Nina was determined not to be combative this year. She wanted to be more grown up, despite the streak of purple frosting on her chin.

QuizDick held up his hands. “I’m not cutting you any slack this year, Hill. Last year’s finale was a fiasco, and your team wasn’t even competing.”

“What happened?” said Laura to Nina, who shook her head.

“It’s a whole other story,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.” She smiled peacefully at QuizDick. “I’m not here to fight, I’m letting you know we have a new team member.”

QuizDick looked at Laura and transferred his suspicion to her. “Did you change your team details on the website?”

“Yes,” said Nina.

“Did you order her a T-shirt in the correct size?”

“Yes,” said Nina, “but it’s ugly, and she refuses to wear it.”

“And did you receive a new, printable team list to sign and submit today?”

Nina brandished a piece of paper and smiled an almost believably angelic smile. “Here you are, Quizmaster, all ready to go.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said crossly, taking the paper and checking it over. “Hmm, seems in order.” He folded it and put it in his pocket. “You’re up against Victorious Secret, another all-girl team.” He leered at Laura. “Winner takes all . . . their clothes off?”

“Super doubtful,” said Nina emphatically, “and unless you stop staring at our new player, I’ll tell Leah you made that comment and she’ll respect you even less than she does now.”

QuizDick had a deep and abiding passion for Nina’s friend Leah, whose knowledge of European history was the stuff of his wildest fantasies.

“No,” he said quickly, “please don’t.” He turned to Laura. “I apologize if I offended you.”

Laura shrugged. It was very loud in the bar and she’d had two donuts; the combination of noise and unusually high blood sugar meant she hadn’t really heard him.

QuizDick turned back to Nina. “I love the way she says . . . Plantagenet.”

Nina patted him on the shoulder. “I know.”

Then she whirled around, gathered Laura, and headed back to their table.

Behind them QuizDick gathered his sheets of paper and tried not to think about Leah dressed as the many wives of Henry VIII.

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