I exhale and look down to see my hands shaking. I hadn’t seen him since the night of the Years & Years show, which, granted, was barely thirty-six hours ago, but still.

Snapping back to attention, I realize Chloe and Sofía are fanning themselves with folded napkins.

“What?” I ask.

Chloe glares. “You could cut the sexual tension with a machete.”

“No way,” I say. “Really?”

“Um. Ya,” Sofía says.

“I mean, he’s obvs gorgeous—” I start, but it feels strange saying it out loud. Sure, I’ve thought about Jack nearly every minute of every day since we met, but it feels like a betrayal to reduce him to one surface-level word when he’s so much more than that. More than I could ever put into words. I’m such a cliché.

“But?” Chloe asks.

“I don’t know if he’s gay or what.”

Sofía and Chloe exchange knowing glances.

“Bring him to our place Friday,” Sofía says. “We’ll scope out the situation. Observe you two in the wild.”

“Oh god, that sounds … like so much pressure,” I say.

“No, not at all,” Chloe says, her voice becoming super serious. “I can sit here from an outsider’s perspective and say that judging from the way Jack looked at you. At only you. The way he smiled. His eyes—”

“Those eyes.” Sofía swoons.

“I can tell you I think he’s interested,” Chloe continues. “But sometimes people need a little push. And, no offense, but you look like you need to be dragged to make a move.”

“Ouch,” I say. “But also accurate.”

“Also, not to be that girl,” Chloe says. “But I’ve been where you are. I know that look on your face right now, and if he’s not into you and he’s just one of those friendly bros, it’s better you know sooner rather than later. So you can move on.”

Well, that was sobering. “Fine. I’ll see if he’s down to come. But, um.”

If Chloe were wearing glasses, she’d totally be Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada right now, peering at me over the top of her frames, pursed lips, waiting for me to stop taking up oxygen in the room. Or just, you know, saying what I need to say.

“Friday is actually my birthday,” I mumble.

“Shut up!” Sofía shouts. “That’s perfect! Now we have a reason to party. Not that we ever need a reason. Time to celebrate our new friend. Bring a couple people.”

“But don’t get wild, now,” Chloe adds.

“Um, maybe my roommate Benny. He’s a gay chaos tornado. You’d love him. And maybe my friend Rae from Laurene.”

“Oh, he’s got a friend that goes to Laurene.” Sofía brings her fingers to her chin and mimes like a mustachioed villain playing with her beard. “What? I’m just saying. Those nerds have a good time over there.”

“It’s settled,” Chloe says. “Bring your friends; we’ll have some adult beverages. You’ll get my invoice at the end of the semester.”

I laugh, but she doesn’t.