“It’s all right for him to be upset,” Pops says, his voice so quiet that I almost can’t hear it. “It can be hard.”

All I can think about is how he would never take any of this shit from me. Then again, I’m his kid. Dave isn’t. To Dave, Pops is the guy who strolled in and messed up his family. I don’t want to think about how our house, the house where fights don’t feel so loud and I don’t get in trouble, exists because Dave had to grow up without Dad.

Part of me wants to punch Dave for making everyone feel bad. But at the same time, it’s not fair. I know it isn’t. I just wish they wouldn’t fight, especially with Miles here.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, eager for the distraction. Jesse’s calling me. I frown. We’ve been texting more lately, but it still feels weird for him to call on Thanksgiving. I excuse myself to the hall. By then, the phone has stopped ringing, but there’s a text from him on the home screen: Is Miles at your house? Below the text are notifications for four missed calls. All from Jesse.

Did something happen? I call Jesse’s number back, leaning against the wall.

“Hey.” His voice is short, blunt. “Is Miles there?”

“Uh, why?” I glance back at the dining room. Tía Camila gestures with her fork while Miles listens intently to something she’s saying. Abuelo shakes his head. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, it’s just that I went over to his house to hang out,” Jesse says. “And he just left a little while ago, and that doesn’t make any sense, since it’s Thanksgiving. So I figured he must be there.”

My spine tingles. Creepy.

“Look,” I say, resting an arm on my stomach. “It’s none of your business if he is here, Jesse.”

“But it actually is.” Another heavy breath. “Someone has to look out for Miles.”

“What?” He isn’t making any sense. “Jesse, what are you talking about?”

“You walk around pretending all the time,” he says, words rushed. “You can’t just lie to him, Simone. It’s not fair. He could get sick.”

Fuck. Out of all the people I considered, I never focused on Jesse. We were supposed to be friends. New friends, but still, I never would’ve expected this from him. Bile rises in my throat.

“It’s none of your business,” I repeat. My ears are ringing. “Jesse, we’re in the show together. If you wanted to know more about me, I don’t know why you didn’t—”

“It’s not all about you,” he snaps. “If you really cared about him, you wouldn’t even—”

“Oh.” My hand clenches as it dawns on me. “I’m not the only one who likes him, am I?”