I think about my mom and how I need her to hold me and whisper into my ear that everything is going to be okay. But that’s a luxury I don’t have, so I try to put on a brave face. I tell myself everything is going to be okay. Tomorrow will be better.

It doesn’t have the same effect.

But then Joey wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tightly. She doesn’t say anything about the tear stains I leave on her borrowed designer dress.

When we get home, I use our five minutes of hot water to scrub my skin clean of Levi. I brush the taste of him out of my mouth. And I make myself a promise before I go to sleep.

Levi is never going to touch another girl the way he touched me tonight.

I’m going to make sure of it.

* * *

Emanuel is on the verge of tears when he calls me from the deli two blocks away from the office. In the background, I hear Maja yelling in Polish. Something is wrong with the order. This is what happens when people don’t follow my rules.

“Did you read my email?”

“Yes.”

“Did you take the lunch order directly to the deli in person?”

“No.”

“Did you call in the order?”

“Yes.”

“Did the email specifically say not to do that?”

“Yes.”

I’m on my way back from the museum, so I swing by the deli to rescue Emanuel from Maja, who I find to be the sweetest woman ever. I don’t understand a word she says to me, but she always sends me away with two loaves of chocolate babka. I have a sneaking suspicion that Emanuel won’t be getting any chocolate babka.

“Oh, thank God,” he says when I walk through the door.

I’m pretty sure Maja says the same thing in Polish.

“I’m trying to sort through everything to make sure it’s all here like you very specifically said in the email—”

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re picking and choosing what information you took from it?”

“There were thirty-four bullet points, Liv!” he says. “But whatever! I’m missing a sandwich and a salad and I don’t know which ones!”

“There are six salads and six sandwiches,” I count.

“And there should be seven.”

“No, there should be six because you were supposed to order Asher’s from the vegan place across the street. It was bullet point number eleven.”

“Asher’s not vegan.”

“I know, but that’s the only place that could assure me that they use Bolero carrots in their carrot and ginger soup.”

“Are you serious?”

“I wish I weren’t.”