“You’ll be fine” is all she says, and now I’m silent too, irritated at her new clothes and this fancy Jeep and how she’s probably gone to shows for every one of these stupid bands on her stupid satellite radio. But then she follows it up with, “Here, why don’t you pick the music? Put on whatever helps you de-stress.”

I do not need to be asked twice to blast Demi Lovato.

It turns out the buy-in is fifty bucks, which I don’t have. But I offer to help Carter in the kitchen, shoving trays of frozen pigs in a blanket and mozzarella sticks in the oven as slowly as I can to avoid the question of whether I’m going to be up-front about not having the money, or do something stupid like promise to pay Jasmine back so I can not embarrass myself in front of my new friends.

But when all the food is in and I’ve stirred the lemonade for so long I’ve probably churned it into butter, I’m out of time.

When I finally enter the game room (yeah, he has a game room), Carter says, “Hey, Jasmine’s low on cash this week, so we’re doing a buy-in at ten. That cool?”

I shrug, forcing myself to meet his eyes so I don’t have to look anywhere near hers. “Sure.”

Turns out, I am not very good at poker—not at bluffing, nor remembering that a flush is a thing, nor reading other people’s facial expressions. But Jasmine is wiping the floor with everyone. I should’ve known she’d be great at it. She has the best poker face I’ve ever seen. I’ve picked up slight frowns and nose wrinkles I thought must indicate crappy cards, but nope. Inside of an hour, she has everyone’s money, including mine, and shockingly, nobody feels like playing another round.

“I knew I should’ve let your invite get lost in the mail,” Carter teases, but it’s obvious from the way he’s looking at her that it’s everyone else’s invites he would’ve rather lost instead. I expect Jasmine to flirt and it to take point-twelve seconds for them to head off to his room, but all she says is, “Better luck next time, sucker,” as her long, ring-laden fingers proceed to shuffle the cards like a pro.

We drink hard cider and play Asshole until Jack and Derek disappear to fool around and Owen and Brea head to a party on the beach, and it’s me and Jasmine, Keisha, and Carter left.