“You’ve been around all summer. Don’t you think it’s weird that the first time Reid asked you out was after he lost first chair?”

Madeline’s nose scrunched.

After another painful silence she asked, “Are you jealous?”

I blinked, horrified by the insinuation. “Madeline. Are you serious? No! Gross! I’m worried. You don’t understand. Reid broke my arm because of the clarinet. Well, that sounds violent. But the obstacle course he set up broke my arm! I wouldn’t put anything past him, honestly. I’m sorry, but that’s the—”

“Natalie. Stop.”

But I couldn’t stop. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Look, I know you’re opposed to pranks—but what about a test?”

I unveiled the details of my setup proposal and Madeline’s reaction was… not to hang up.

She raised her eyebrows. “And then what?”

I shrugged. “If I’m wrong, my best friend and my arch-nemesis live happily ever after.”

“You are wrong,” Madeline said before disconnecting.

I entered Dad’s studio on the day of the setup, walking down the basement stairs with Madeline as my dad was heading up, shifting gears from music dad to soccer dad. Mom used to handle soccer with Delia, but her weekends had become dedicated to fighting through the pressure of producing a new novel. I’d never seen her blocked like that. That was the first year I ever saw her finish an apple. While obsessing over Reid and Madeline was the A story in my life—worrying over Mom was the B story fighting for attention.

But back to the A story.

I walked downstairs beyond excited. I was finally about to get my best friend back. Reid was packing up his clarinet as I entered the studio. Madeline stayed behind, taking a seat on the second to last step and wrapping her arms around her knees. She rolled her eyes, annoyed at this whole situation. Resolute in her feelings that I was wrong. Reid liked her. She listed things they had in common—music and Marvel movies and Survivor. What else could you need?

But Madeline Park did not know the Reid Callahan I did.

“Hey,” I said.

Reid nodded. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“In my own house?”

“In the studio. You know what I mean.”

I stopped myself from devolving into meaningless bickering. I was here on a mission.

“I’m here with purpose. I have a proposition.”

“Okay?”

“First chair. It’s yours,” I said.

Reid raised his eyebrows, shocked. “What?”

“You can have it,” I continued. “Just break up with Madi. Stop messing with her. Please.”

Reid was stunned silent. “What are you talking about?”

“You win. It worked. You can stop leading on my best friend.”