I think we should break up is on the tip of my tongue, but this would be the worst possible time to say it. Instead, I sigh, forcing the tension to leave my body, and he avoids looking at me directly. “Can we not do this now?” I plead, my voice gentle, suddenly aware of a few pairs of eyes watching us. “This is a party. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

“Fine. I hope you enjoy yourself.”

Without another word he strides away from me, clearly upset. It must be hard for him to give up on our long-time relationship, but what we have right now isn’t healthy for either of us. It’s exhausting, and nobody is happy. He should understand that now is not a good time for us to be together.

Relatively speaking, he’s only a few steps above feeling like a total stranger to me, meanwhile, he’s hung up on a version of a girl who no longer exists. In any other circumstance his childish behavior would’ve been the last straw. However, watching Damien have an even bigger public meltdown is definitely not something I’m in the mood for tonight.

Just when I’m about to wallow in a pit of self-pity, I spot my so-called friends all the way across the room, making them hard to see through the crowd. They’re in the corner of the room, like they want to be out of sight, gathered in a tight circle to keep others out. Creeping closer to the edge of the rink, I try to get a better look. Damien appears to be doing most of the talking, gesturing wildly as the others listen. James’s bulky arms are crossed over his chest, and Zoe stands next to them, closing out the huddle.

Finally, she holds up a hand, bringing Damien’s ranting to an abrupt halt. She says something forcefully, and the boys are silent. I inch closer to their hiding spot, my curiosity burning brightly.

They notice me approach, and their body language rapidly changes. Zoe straightens, clearing her expression and fixing me with a large smile. Damien gives me a forlorn look before storming off, and James winks, following him.

I head over to Zoe, and she keeps the grin plastered on her face.

“Hey, babe.” She greets me. “Having fun?”

“What were you guys talking about?”

Zoe tilts her head, looking at me confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Just now,” I push.

“Oh,” she says. “Damien was just being dramatic about something. But don’t worry, I took care of it.”

“How?’

She laughs shortly. “God, Allie. What’s with the interrogation? Not everything we do has to involve you.”

We maintain eye contact for several beats, and it’s as if we’re waiting to see which one of us will concede and give the other one the victory.

“Anything else you want to ask me?”