Princeton doesn’t stand a chance.

She stands up, looks down at me, makes as if to say something, and then simply shakes her head.

“What?”

“I was going to ask if you’re going to be okay on your own, y’know, at a party, but that’s a ridiculous question, isn’t it?”

I lean back on the reclining lounge chair, arms linked under my head. “Maybe the dumbest statement ever uttered. Go catch yourself an asshole, Cori. I’ll manage.”

“You still smell like baby oil!” she whisper-shouts after taking off her jacket and jumping into the water herself—a cannonball that’s forceful enough to splash Marvyn and get him to turn back.

“Sorry, I was aiming for your phone!” Corinne laughs and swims away to the other end of the pool, with Marvyn following after her. It’s expertly played on her part; Marvyn looks like a puppy learning how to swim, chasing an invisible treat with his snout barely out of the water. I watch as he reaches her, and she in return flips her hair, purposefully not focusing on him as he starts to talk. Just like that, Corinne transforms into Cori before my very eyes. She pinches her lips with disinterest at an inaudible thing Marvyn’s stupid face mouths but eventually gives him a laugh that feels like a thin and very long needle slowly puncturing my chest.

I would take comfort in the fact that it’s a fake “Cori” laugh, except that from my side of the pool her snorty giggle sounds exactly like the one I’m used to, which feels much, much worse.

Thirteen

“Okay, I have to ask: what is going on with you and this girl?”

Evie steps into the empty kitchen, startling me while I’m pouring myself a glass of tap water; New York City has the best in America. Her feet leave a row of prints on the ceramic and right now, damn it if her red-white-and-blue bikini may be the most patriotic thing since the Alamo.

She glances my way and notices the abs and shirtlessness, which makes all those crunches and pull-ups suddenly worth it.

“I told you; she’s my neighbor.” Evie is too sharp to insult with “I have no idea who you’re talking about” coyness.

“H, come on,” she says, opening Marvyn’s fridge like it’s her own and pulling out a glass bottle of expensive fizzy water. “It’s more than a zip code. You’ve taken an interest in Corinne Troy of all people.”

“I’m not dating her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Well, I know that.” She snorts between sips.