The third girl hadn’t said much or done much. She remained quiet, leaning over her computer, but she pushed it back and sat back in her chair. “I’m so screwed for our test on Thursday.”

“Yeah. No kidding.”

“You’ll totally kill this test. You always do, Miss I Like to Set the Curve.”

The girl who’d been mostly quiet snorted. “Yeah, right. That is most certainly not me.”

All three fell silent, sharing a look.

Then one said, dropping her voice low, “Oh, from what you said earlier, are you talking about that one girl?”

“Hmmmm.”

The Giggler wasn’t giggling anymore. She bit out, “The one dating Blaise DeVroe?”

“The soccer player?”

Giggler nodded, her head high and her eyes bright. “She’s dating him. It’s disgusting, if you ask me.”

They were talking about Aspen Monson, someone I learned over the summer had been the girl who saved our asses one night. Or saved my ass. If the cops had caught us at a party, I would’ve automatically gone back into juvie. Partying on parole and running from the cops was frowned upon. She was also kind and not a girl for girls to be bitching about, and someone I cared about.

She was also dating Cross’ brother, and the two were so opposite that they were perfect.

Go figure that one out.

“How’d someone like that get someone like him? I mean, she’s pretty, but he could do so much better.”

One snickered. “No doubt. Such a cow.”

The screen door opened then. Jordan came in first, a few guys following him inside. He saw me and gave me a chin jerk. “Hey, Bren. Where’s our boy?”

“Studying upstairs.”

Zellman flashed me a grin, the last one to walk in. They were bringing in the rest of the food that must’ve been outside.

The girls were sharing looks, and I turned to Jordan. “So, this girl,” I pointed at Giggler, “thinks it’s disgusting that Aspen is dating Blaise.”

All three gasped.

I pointed to the one who said it. “And that one thinks Blaise could do better than Aspen.”

Then I turned to the last. “And this one thinks Aspen is a cow.”

Giggler’s face turned bright red. She hissed, glaring, “What the hell?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what you just said?”

Jordan had stilled, hearing me.

Zellman let out a small growl, coming to stand next to me. “You say that?”

Giggler had opened her mouth, but shut it with an audible snap, her eyes shooting between him and myself, then to Jordan. Her gaze lingered the longest on him before she gave me a dark look. “Snitch.”