“I actually feel like the world is ending.” My stomach gurgles.

Rae and Benny stare at me.

“You need to eat,” Rae says, rubbing her own belly. “As do I. Do you CIA people have food on this campus?”

I flop around the bed, pulling the blankets over my head. “Bring me back something.”

“You know it’s against policy to take food out,” Benny says. “And a little sunlight would do you good.”

“I hate the sun.”

“It’s beautiful out,” Rae says, pulling back the blinds.

“I hate beauty.”

“Put clothes on, binch,” Benny says.

“I hate clothes.”

Ignoring me, he says, “Rae, I’ll use one of my dining hall swipes on you. Consider it an early Hanukkah present!”

“Thanks to you, kind sir,” Rae says. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. “I look like I’m doing the walk of shame.”

“Nope, that’d be me.” I stretch, but it hurts.

Rae winces. “Mazel, you’ve somehow gone darker than I thought possible.” She slaps me. “Get up. Don’t make me call your mother, because I will.”

“All right, all right, I’m up. But I’m not going to the Garden Dining Hall.” That place reeks of Jack.

Rae ties her hair into a messy bun. “Sweetie, brush your teeth. You smell ugly. I’m gonna call Harry and …” She hesitates. I can tell something is wrong when she says his name, and I want to ask her about that look in her eyes, but I don’t. “I’ll tell him I’ll probably be here for a looooooooooooong time. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

She throws me air kisses, and I feel a pang in my chest. I thought she’s been happy with Harry, but I’ve been so wrapped up in Jack, I haven’t asked her about her. I usually clue into her patterns, like when she dated Matt Moskowitz in high school and constantly dropped plans with him to hang out with me. Is she doing that again with Harry?

The least I can do is brush my damn teeth and be a better friend to make sure Rae doesn’t blow it with Harry for me.

“Hey, you don’t have to stay here, you know,” I say.

“Shut up. Of course, I do,” she says.

“No, seriously.” I hold my breath, not really wanting to bring up her dating history because she tends to get a bit defensive. She crinkles her eyes and tilts her head. “Are you and Harry okay?”

Her face softens. She shrugs. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“I don’t want to be the reason you …”

“What?” she asks. “Break up?”

“Matt Moskowitz.”

She sits on the edge of the bed, palms gripping her thighs. “I’m scared, Chase.”

“Of what?”