“Well, he had to convince me that we should tell you about Salem and Jenna hooking up. He said you deserved to know, that it would take forever for you to figure out you had feelings for him otherwise. He can be very persuasive when he feels like it.”

“Matt said what?” I shake my head. “And you didn’t tell me about Salem and Jenna,” I point out, breaking the edge off another scone.

Isabel rolls her big green eyes. “Does Jenna really strike you as the type to leave her underwear behind, Evie? Or have you considered that maybe, just maybe, someone put them there for you to find.”

Someone put them … “How could you possibly know I’d find them?”

“First of all, I saw you at the poker night, getting all comfy in his bed; I knew you’d end up back there. But just in case, there were five different pairs hidden around Salem’s stuff. You owe me a hundred bucks, by the way.”

“Cute. And completely ridiculous.”

She swallows the last bite of her scone and grins. “You say that like it didn’t work. Tell me it didn’t work.”

I keep my mouth shut. You don’t need to be in AP Psych to know when you’re not winning a battle against Isabel McEvoy. “Honestly, I can’t believe you’re still allowed to talk to me. I’d think Jenna hates me.”

“She does,” Isabel says coolly, “but she’s Jenna; she’ll find someone new by next week and forget all about Salem.”

“And me?” I ask hopefully.

“Oh, no—you, she’s gonna hate forever.”

I laugh, assuming Isabel’s kidding, then stop when it becomes obvious that she isn’t. “Oh.”

“Yeah, she’s like that.”

“And you still wanna take the risk of being friends with me? Is this a ‘keep your friends close, enemies closer’ type of thing?”

“No, please, I’m not that bored,” she says with a snort. “But I think you’re interesting. You surprise me. Not a lot of people manage to do that.”

“I can’t tell if that’s more egotistical or patronizing.”

“See?” She flashes a broad smile. “Who talks like that to me? Nobody.”

“But like, what was even the point? Why did you even need a middleman? Jenna could get any guy she wants by just blinking pointedly in his direction. Did she really think he wouldn’t fall down at her feet if she just said hi?” I mean, I like to think he wouldn’t, but I’m a realist.

Isabel fixes me with a Look. “You do know he’s a sophomore, right? Jenna would never.”

“Jenna did,” I remind her. “And I’m a sophomore too.”