“Thank you for being here,” I say to Rae, who hugs me tighter. I think about a few years back when Taylor was hospitalized with appendicitis, and Rae spent hours with me in the hospital waiting room while Taylor was in surgery. And when Dad up and decided to stop loving Mom, Rae dropped everything to bake me my favorite Funfetti cake with rainbow sprinkles mixed into the frosting. She sat with me and watched Disney movies all night. It’s nice to know there are some people you can always count on, no matter what.

“Come help me set up the hotel room!” Taylor wedges herself in between Rae and me. “I need this to be perfect. We have a manicure station and hair station all set up for after we’re done at the water park. We got a suite! It’s so exciting!”

She’s brimming with energy, and I see a lot of Dad in her. Or, at the very least, the excitement of the promises he always makes but rarely follows through on. But it looks like, for once, he’s pulled through. I have to try to mask my disdain for Taylor’s sake.

And for Jack’s.

Rae and I get to work ensuring Taylor’s party is a success, decorating the suite, stuffing goody bags—cheap makeup bags from the dollar store full of free samples of concealers and eye shadow and perfumes because Mom is quite thrifty—and making sure everything looks like a scene from a CW teen drama on a budget. But, to be fair, Mom has most of it done already. She seems in control. Almost like she didn’t need me around at all and had been getting on fine without me. That’s sobering, but I have to admit that I’m happy to see it. Like a tiny bit of the weight I carry has been lifted off me.

The second Tay’s friends show up, Rae and I become second-class citizens, relegated to the background as Taylor fights for her spot in the social hierarchy.

“I do not miss this,” Rae says, emerging from the bathroom in a cute 1950s-style one-piece bathing suit. “Remember Leila’s hotel party at the Plaza?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t invited, remember?” I usher us out of the room to make our way to the indoor water park. From the balcony, I spot Jack sitting with Dad at the bar.

“Oh, right. What was her excuse?”

“Girls only,” I say in Leila’s lilt. “You understand, don’t you? You’re such a good friend, my best friend, the bestest I’ve ever had!” The back of my hand wilts against my forehead, and when I’m done, I bow.

“Brilliant.” Rae claps all daintily like she’s at the opera. “What’s crap about that is Hunter Thomas and Nick Vivianno came, and she ended up hooking up with both of them.”

“Wait. What?”

“You didn’t know?”