“Oh, right.” And I knew that, too, but nothing was firing right in my head. The thrill of the hookup was over and the day-after regrets were hitting hard. Jack had been cool, but I still had no idea how to get in touch with him. Maybe I’d never see him again, which meant Devi was absolutely right. I’d effectively picked up food off the sidewalk and inserted it into my no-no parts.

“Craaaaaaap.” I dropped my head back onto the top of the booth and stared at the too-bright overhead lights. “I just didn’t want to think about Aaron. Like, all night, with him and Samantha—”

“I get it.” Devi reached across the table to squeeze my hand. I didn’t look at her, too intent on burning out my retinas with the offtrack lighting, so she slid along the curve of the corner booth until we were hip to hip. “I’m not trying to be insensitive, Sara. I totally get it. He hurt you and you wanted to feel better, and a hookup is cool! Just...as long as you’re safe about it. I’m worried about you, is all. So promise me you’ll go to the doctor? Or the clinic? I’ll go with you if you want. It’ll probably be less scary if you’ve got a friend with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, my voice full of lead. “I promise.”

“Okay, cool.” She pressed a dry kiss to my shoulder and pulled over her fries and milkshake. “It’s probably fine, like you said. I’m being precautious, but it’s peace of mind, too. Speaking of which, when we get back to school on Monday? You should totally ask Michelle if she knows where Olly is from.”

“Wait, who’s Olly?”

“Oh, the friend I let flirt with me for an hour and a half so you could have your truck cabin romance. If you ever doubt my love for you, remember this conversation. He kept trying to impress me with his car. He has a new Mustang, apparently, that his surgeon dad gave him, except he didn’t have it with him because he wasn’t allowed to drive it at night, but if I wanted, I could come over to his house and—get this—sit in the car to check it out. We can’t drive it, but we can sit in it.”

That made me straighten up in my seat. “Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. Seriously. That was his big pitch. To sit in an unmoving car.” She grinned and offered me a french fry. I accepted it, biting her fingertip and earning a thwack upside the head for my efforts.

I deserved it.

“It’s not his, you realize,” I said, going back to my greasy lunch. “Like, it’s totally his dad’s car and he’s trying to use it to get laid.”