“I just don’t get why your gay parents would send you to a Catholic boarding school. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Brie,” Julie admonishes, stopping in front of our group. “This is a judgment-free zone, remember?”

“Who said I was judging her?” Brie lifts her shoulder in a lazy shrug. “I just said what we’re all thinking.”

I snort, tilting my head back. Julie split us up into smaller groups so we could discuss some article she printed out. Obviously, that’s not happening. Group is livelier than usual tonight, most likely because Julie bought one of those big-ass bags of candy they sell at Target. There’s just something about fun-size candy bars that makes people want to participate.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” I say, reaching for the big orange bag as it goes around again. Somehow, in between talking about friends and school, the attention ended up on me. “I know it sounds pretty weird. It’s just that my dad is Catholic and wanted to ‘share the experience’ with me or something.”

Julie sighs, shaking her head as she walks away.

“You weren’t, like, worried about going?” Jack asks, dutifully holding the article in both hands. “That sounds intense.”

Brie’s folding her article up so that it looks like a bizarre crab with legs coming out of its head. Ralph isn’t here today—Thank God.

“I mean, they never really saw my parents at Our Lady of Lourdes because it was, like, two hours away,” I say, organizing my candy by color. Orange Starbursts go on top of my article, while I rest the actual good flavors on my lap. “And I was little when I started, like eleven or twelve, so I thought it would be like Zoey 101.”

“I haven’t seen that show in ages.” Jack shakes his head. Somehow, he manages to make it seem like he’s interested in everything everyone has to say. “Was your school actually like that?”

“Uh, no.” I unwrap a candy and pop it in my mouth. “It was just girls and we had prayer hour and stuff. No cool motorbikes or lounges or anything.”

“I don’t know how you did it.” Brie sets down her crab, swiping one of the orange Starbursts. Poor misguided soul. “My parents try to drag me to mass all the time, but mostly as punishment. Like that time I tried to steal my dad’s car.”

“What?” Jack’s eyes snap up, eyebrows pushed to his hairline. Brie just shrugs again, but I notice the way the corners of her mouth turn up. Scaring boys with stories of theft is a nice way to flirt; I won’t deny her that.