“No! I mean, we figured it out when she finally gave us the address, but by then it was too late.” She pauses. “I’m sorry, Allie. This probably isn’t how you thought your birthday would turn out.”

Shrugging, I straighten up, then glance at Parker, who dutifully refrains from looking at me. “I don’t really care that it’s my birthday. But I don’t know why Zoe threw me a party just to ditch me at the door.”

“You two have a unique friendship,” Audrey muses. “Best friends one moment and at each other’s throats the next.”

I look out at the partygoers, watching Zoe as she skates with a boy, smirking as he twirls her around. A spark of jealousy ignites in my chest. Despite the balloon letters and the photographs of me scattered throughout the room, it’s jarringly clear that this party wasn’t thrown for me at all. It’s been Zoe’s party since the beginning. I doubt people would even notice if I left.

“Let me get you something to drink,” Audrey says, touching my arm gently. “Wait here. Parker, keep her company.”

She pecks him on the cheek and squeezes his shoulder before leaving the two of us alone. As if this night couldn’t get any worse.

Parker sinks into the chair my sister left open, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek, my knee bouncing. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked,” he says.

“We should probably keep it that way.”

“I agree,” he says. “That’s why I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m moving out. I should’ve left a long time ago.”

Parker’s face is impassive, revealing nothing, and I don’t know how to react. It’s obvious that this is the right decision, and he’s not wrong when he says it should’ve happened long before now. Calling our circumstances complicated would be the understatement of the century. He’s the first person who felt like a friend—even if he wasn’t allowed to be. But there’s no way for any kind of relationship between us to exist without stabbing the knife further into my sister’s back. Too much damage has already been done.

“Does that mean . . . ?”

He nods. “I’m going to end things with Audrey.”

Across the room, my sister fills a cup with punch, oblivious. When she turns to look back at us, innocence written all over her face, the intensity of my guilt is like a sucker punch to the gut. The downfall of her relationship is entirely my fault.

“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.

“It’s for the best. But God, I’m going to break her heart.” His voice falters, before he clears his throat, swallowing.

“Are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Do you think I should?”