“True,” he says. “But it definitely wouldn’t be as fun as doing it here.”

“We have tons of fun here,” Claudia says, appearing beside me. “Jesse has been telling us all the ways you embarrass yourself in front of your boy toy.”

“Ugh,” I groan, tossing my head back. “No. Jesse, I thought I could trust you!”

“I’m sorry!” he says, holding up his hands. “I promise it’s nothing bad.”

“All of it’s bad,” Claudia deadpans. “Come on, Simone. We tease Lydia about Ian all the time.”

“Yeah,” I say. “But Miles isn’t Ian. He’s actually attractive.”

“Okay.” Claudia smirks.

I try to glare at her, but I can’t take myself seriously. It feels a little like a rite of passage to be made fun of for having a crush. Maybe it doesn’t hurt because it’s coming from one of my best friends—and because Miles likes me back.

“I’m shocked and appalled, Jesse,” I say, turning to him. “I thought we were a team. A Drama Club team.”

“We are,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Sadly, my loyalty is to the gay part of the Gay-Straight Alliance.”

Claudia laughs along with him, but now I can’t bring myself to muster up more than a weak chuckle. Which part do I feel loyal to?

“Hey,” Lydia says, bumping my shoulder as she passes by. “Do you want to share my sandwich with me? My mom made brownies and I saved you some.”

I can’t tell if she knows how I feel or not. Lydia has this gift for reading people, which is one of the reasons why the club is so popular. Claudia may not mean to be harsh, but sometimes she just is. Lydia always balances her out.

“Of course I’m going to eat your brownies,” I say. “Do you even have to ask?”

CHAPTER 15

Tuesday morning sucks. I wake up late, so I miss my ride with Claudia and Lydia. My pants rip just as I’m walking out the door, and I have to go back inside to change. When I finally get to school, I walk into the wrong classroom for homeroom. And during AP US History, Mr. Thompson gives us a pop quiz on the Marshall Court, of all things.

It doesn’t help that I feel Miles’s gaze on me during class. I’m not sure how to act after this weekend. Do I wave? Kiss him in the hall? The worst part is that I can barely focus on anything when I know he’s looking at me. As soon as the bell rings, I dart out of the classroom, but his footsteps are heavy behind me.

“Hey, Simone.” He’s next to me, fingers brushing against mine. My hand tingles like it’s fallen asleep. “What’s up?”