“Are you kidding?” Apparently, Gia’s had some champagne too. “This is literally Lara’s dream come true. Like, literally.”

I shoot daggers at her with my eyes, but she’s completely oblivious, as is everyone else.

“Who knew so many years fangirling on the sidelines would pay off?” Shannon says innocently, and then giggles like she’s had too much to drink, even though the bottle hasn’t reached her yet. Gia and Jasmine join her, even though I know—I know—I never talked to Jasmine about that, which means Shannon has. How much time have they spent laughing at me behind my back? What kinds of friends do that?

Chase squeezes my hand and tells them to shut up and pass the champagne. He’s trying to be kind, but I don’t want it. I don’t want any of this. I just want to climb through the sunroof and run home to my mom, leaving my stupid heels in the dirt.

Every glimpse I catch of Jasmine hurts my heart and feels like the worst betrayal, worse than Shannon, even, because she knew me in a way Shan never has, and because for everything I love about Shannon, I never expect more from her than this. She’s there when I’m in need, when shit hits the fan. That’s not nothing, but it isn’t what I got from Jasmine. She doesn’t open my eyes to different ways of looking at things. She doesn’t make me feel like the best version of myself. She doesn’t make me feel like I can do anything, like I don’t just matter, but am in fact significant.

How did the girl who was once my biggest cheerleader become … this?

Chapter Eighteen

THEN

The seafood boil on the beach was such a success that Brea decided to have a smaller one for her birthday a couple of weeks later. I’m about to reply to our group text with a “Can’t wait!” when Jasmine beats me to answering. So sorry, Brea—going to my mom’s that wknd.

Immediately the chain floods with boooo and we’ll miss you! But my fingers stay still. I’d never spent an evening out with everyone minus Jasmine. I’m not afraid I can’t handle it—I’d definitely become friends with everyone in my own right—but … everything sounds like less fun without her there.

I open our private text thread, which is mostly full of be there in 5 and do you have my blue nail polish? and start to tap out a message, but what do I even say? I’ll miss you feels silly; I can say that on the group text like everyone else. I didn’t know you were going away for the weekend is way too clingy.