“That’s not as fun,” I say. “You just have to change your attitude.” I turn down the next aisle, which is filled with colorful posters. “Look! This one says Give and you will receive—I’m pretty sure that’s from the Bible. You’re not embarrassed of God’s word, are you, Lyd?”

Claudia cackles, hooking arms with me. We walk closer to a pink display table in the corner. A black mannequin is dressed in a red leather outfit. Different pieces of lingerie are fanned out around it. When I step closer, I can see the mannequin’s bedazzled nipples. I can’t imagine anyone seriously buying this stuff. I’d never wear it in front of anyone, except maybe Claudia and Lydia as a joke.

“Why are we in the BDSM section?” Lydia asks. “We’re supposed to be looking for a vibrator. It shouldn’t take this long to find a vibrator in a sex store.”

“Maybe we should check the queer section for that.” Claudia grabs my hand. I blink in surprise as she drags me to another aisle. “Oh shit, look. An aphrodisiac cookbook! Maybe that would help you out with your lover boy, Simone.”

“Hey,” I protest. “It’s feminist to be bad at cooking. Fighting against gender roles and stuff.”

“No.” Claudia gives me a blank stare. “Those things have nothing to do with each other.”

“Guys, look at this.” Lydia holds up a book called The Virtuous Slut. It takes all my effort not to snort out loud, especially since Ashley is eyeing us like we need help. “This looks like something Miranda Crossland would gift to me.”

“Don’t even mention her name in my presence,” Claudia says, turning away. “I don’t want to think about that bitch.”

“She’s the reason we met Simone, though.” Lydia tosses an arm around my shoulder. “I’d let her call me a slut again if it meant you’d come to my rescue.”

“Aw, Lydia.” I rest my head on her shoulder. “I’m touched.”

“Don’t forget who was about to punch her for you!” Claudia calls. “I was totally going to do it.”

I bet she would’ve, too. I barely knew them the day that Miranda Crossland called Lydia a slut in the cafeteria. There were tons of people around, and Miranda just screamed it out. It’s bad enough to call someone a slut, but at least do it in private. Even I understood that.

I don’t even know why she thought Lydia was a slut—maybe because she dates a lot of boys? I don’t care—but I could tell she wasn’t saying it in a friendly, joking way. She said it in a totally evil way.