I don’t even dignify that with a response, opting instead to unzip my backpack and take out the jar of peanut butter fudge sauce and two plastic spoons. I sit on the floor, my back against the pillar, and open the jar. Put a spoonful in my mouth and it’s good, so good. Reid is missing out. I’m definitely not sharing.

“This is supposed to be apology fudge. For the Harvest Festival. It’s no longer apology fudge.”

Reid’s expression softens. “Natalie—”

“The way we are—it’s not supposed to be like this. We have rules.”

Reid’s nose scrunches and he has the audacity to sit next to me. His eyes are wide, his neck flushed pink. As if he is concerned. “Nat, I sincerely do not know what you are talking about.”

“You can drop the act. You win, okay? You. Win.”

I swallow my second spoonful and wrinkle my nose because it’s not nearly as good as the first. Too sweet. Besides, it’s for Reid. It’s Reid’s favorite ice cream topping. And that’s what it’s supposed to be—a topping.

Before I can think twice I flip the open jar and… oops, there goes his stupid perfect hair. Reid jumps back but it’s too late—the sauce is everywhere, flattening his curls, dripping down his ears, landing on the shoulder seams of his crisp blue shirt.

“Shit! Natalie! What is wrong with you?”

Reid keeps trying to run a hand through his hair. He can’t. Every time his hand touches his scalp he is reintroduced to the relentless sauce. Without a response, I exit the scene, tossing the empty jar in the nearest recycling bin on my way to first period.

Reid got his peanut butter fudge sauce after all.

During last period, Ms. Rodkey summons the core members of HAVE A HE(ART), plus Reid, to the office via loudspeaker. We’re sat around a conference room table with Mrs. Mulaney and my dad seated at the head, deflated and waiting on consequences. Henry rakes his hand through his hair. Fitz fixes a chipped nail. Danica scrolls through her phone. Arjun fidgets with a pencil. Makayla reapplies peppermint ChapStick.

Reid enters the office last, in his LHS band T-shirt he changed into post-fudging.

He still has remnants of sauce in his hair. Good.

Mrs. Mulaney begins with a lecture about the mess and liability, but I care more about the vandalism investigation.

“We retrieved security footage of the incident,” Mrs. Mulaney says. “The stage was vandalized by a group of underclassmen band members.”

That makes no sense.

“How would they even know about HAVE A HE(ART)?” I ask, my eyes meeting Reid’s.

“Natalie, it was the least subtle anti-band smear campaign on the planet. I mean, Ivan and his jock bros signed your petition!” Reid says.

“Everyone knew?” Dad frowns and strokes his beard. “And… no one thought to tell me?”