It’s a weirdly good weekend, all things considered. My parents do text to say they’re sorry they couldn’t make it, and I send them pictures and videos of random stuff they’re missing. Meanwhile, the Graysons take me in like a triplet, insisting I join them for breakfast, at which Mrs. Grayson—“Please! Call me Naomi!”—urges Salem to heap a thousand things on his plate I know he’ll never eat, and suddenly that first breakfast together makes sense. I beg off for the orientation and accompanying seminar, and I’m still trying to decide how to spend the rest of my day when Sabrina swings by and tells me we’re going to lunch.

“Okay, I think there’s a limit to just how much Grayson family time I’m gonna horn in on,” I tell her as she stands tapping her foot in my doorway. “Seriously, you do not need a fifth wheel. Just go.”

“Ew. Did you just imply Salem and I are a couple?”

I roll my eyes. “I feel pretty confident you know what I mean, and you two have been more than implying that Salem and I are a couple all day.”

“Yeah, that part’s pretty damn funny. I keep waiting for Jenna and her parents to show up; Salem doesn’t even know how long they’re gone for.”

“And what exactly is the plan if we bump into them?” I press.

“That’s Salem’s problem,” she says with a shrug, flicking a piece of dust off her ISN’T IT NECROMANTIC? sweater. “Now, come on—you don’t want to offend Ted and Naomi, do you? Their children do that enough already.”

“Don’t you think the more time I spend with you guys, the likelier they are to figure out that Salem and I aren’t a couple?”

Sabrina arches one of her thin brows. “Uh, no. Have you seen the way you two are constantly touching and whispering and finishing each other’s sentences? Half the time I don’t remember you’re not a couple. Now grab your jacket—it’s a wee bit nippy out.”

“You’re a wee bit nippy,” I snap, busying myself with hunting down my jacket so she won’t see the flush in my cheeks at her comment about me and Salem. We do not act like a couple.

“Well, we can’t all have your assets,” she says with a pointed look at my chest, and as I stomp out after her, slipping my arms into my sleeves, I vow to start making new friends as soon as this weekend is over.