I guess I should be grateful I got to, thanks to having no idea this was coming.

Sighing in defeat, I finish my shower quickly and throw some mousse in my natural waves rather than going through the whole curling routine that’s been keeping me extra cute since Jasmine introduced me to it. I don’t feel like looking extra cute; I want to blend so deeply into the woodwork even Kiki and her eagle eyes won’t see me. The dress I had picked out for today gets pushed aside in favor of a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, and I skip makeup entirely.

Chase will probably walk right through me.

Today, that’s all I want.

As usual, Shannon’s right on time to pick me up, and Gia’s in the back seat, but no sign of Kiki, who’s usually picked up first. “Keeks is taking the Porsche in again today,” Shannon explains as I climb into the front seat of her 4Runner, “but don’t worry.” She taps her dashboard. “It’s basically like she’s here.”

Shannon is playing the newest episode of Kiki on the Case, because of course she is.

“I haven’t listened yet,” I say cautiously. “What’d I miss?”

“She’s putting secret couples from history on blast. Did you know Eleanor Roosevelt was a lesbian? She had a secret lover and everything.”

The coffee my mom handed me this morning sloshes in my stomach. “You don’t say.”

I have to warn Jasmine today about the conversations that are gonna be floating around, and about the very distinct possibility that Kiki has somehow pieced together the truth about us. Thinking about any and all of it makes me wanna die.

For a moment, I’m worried I spoke aloud, because suddenly Shannon’s car is turning onto Jasmine’s street.

“What are we doing here?” Gia asks, and I’m relieved I don’t have to.

“Jasmine’s car is in the shop, so I told her we’d give her a ride.”

That Shannon knows her car is in the shop, and that Shannon is who Jasmine went to for help, punches me in the gut. They’re really becoming friends, and I don’t know whether the idea of not being Shannon’s number one anymore or the idea of not being Jasmine’s number one at Stratford bothers me more. How did they bond like this? When? Where was I?

Gia huffs the tiniest bit. Everyone knows that in our close-knit group of four, Shannon and I are the tightest; when my mom was still finding her footing in the job market and working later hours than Child Protective Services would’ve found acceptable, the Salter mansion’s open-door policy was a lifesaver, rendering us inseparable. But that doesn’t mean any one of us are gonna be cool with a fifth wheel.

Shannon pretends not to notice.