The soft glow from Berry’s headlights lit a dim path along the road. Mato hummed and squeaked as we sat in silence for the rest of the ride until we got to my house.

“Okay,” Berry said, shifting into park. “Safe and sound.”

“Thanks to you,” I added. I cracked open the door. I could hear Monty barking inside. “You saved the day,” I said as I unbuckled my seat belt. “Like, really.”

“Yeah.” Berry looked down at the steering wheel. “Did you go to the party because you wanted to, like, make peace with Sarah, or because you like Gilly?”

“What?”

Berry’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the wheel, “Can I just, like— Do you like Gilly? Like like her?”

“I don’t—” My words stuck in my throat. “I mean, I had this moment where she seemed like someone I could like?”

“Even though she’s super mean to you.” Berry’s voice sounded like cement.

“I mean, Sarah was mean,” I corrected.

“Gilly helped Sarah be mean.” Berry re-corrected.

“But she tried to speak up today.. . .”

“For like a second.” Berry’s voice cracked. “Like one second. And then Sarah said to shut up and Gilly did.”

“I guess I felt like. . .” I could feel my palms sweating. “Like maybe there was more to her, than that?”

“Right. Sure. Okay.” Berry nodded. “Okay, cool. Well. Good night.”

I could feel something in the car, like a blanket of disappointment, as I peeled out of my seat and ducked out the door.

I stayed outside and waited for Berry’s headlights to disappear into the night.

“ANNE!”

Lucy stood in the doorway, huffing like she was some sort of ticking time bomb.

“Get in here. Right. Now.”

“What? People do parties on Tuesday here,” I said, pulling off my sweater as I brushed past her into the house.

Inside, in the light of our living room lamps, it was clear that the color had drained from Lucy’s face.

“Did you set Tanner Spencer’s backyard on FIRE?”

TWENTY

The most I ever got in trouble was when I was in fourth grade. I had my friend Rebecca over after school one day and decided we should have an “adult tea party.”

By which I meant a tea party for ad ults.

Obviously.

I can’t remember what movie I or Rebecca had seen that inspired that particular combination of words. It could have been Alice in ­Wonderland. Rebecca had the idea that we should drink from fancy glasses, and it was my idea that we should have something the color of tea in those fancy glasses. And I knew just the thing! A bottle in the cabinet of the living room that had the cut-glass surface I prized and often ran my fingers over.

The liquid in the bottle was brown, like tea. Seemed like a solid connection to me. It also, tantalizingly, smelled like almonds.