“It’s very hard to support yourself as a writer,” my mom is quick to chime in. “It’s a great hobby, but not a career.”

“Huh. I wonder if William Shakespeare’s mom told him the same thing,” I say, my voice brimming with snark.

“She didn’t have to. He wrote King Lear during the plague,” she replies.

My mom has shared this piece of trivia with me no less than five thousand times in the last few weeks.

“Well, I bet he didn’t have to fill out college applications at the same time.”

Neda clears her throat and pulls her knees up to her chest. I’m starting to think that going to college has made her too evolved for sitting still.

“Gideon says Edward de Vere wrote all of Shakespeare’s plays,” she announces.

“He would think that,” I mumble.

Before I can make any other passive-aggressive observations about Gideon that will clearly reveal my undying love for him, my phone lights up with a text. I glance at the notification. It’s Wes. He wrote a new song about Gabriela that he wants to send me. This day just keeps getting better and better.

“Tell Gabs we’re eating breakfast and that you’ll text her later,” my mom says, annoyed.

How pathetic that my parents just assume the only person getting in touch with me is Gabriela. As though no one else from the outside world would be interested in talking to me. Sure, it’s true that I don’t have a robust circle of friends at Winchester, especially now that Andrew turned our foursome into a threesome. When your clique only consists of two girls and one painfully shy guy who will never escape the humiliating day his bowels publicly failed him, you don’t exactly gain “squad” status.

It’s not like Gabs and I are at the bottom of the popularity pyramid. We’re somewhere in the middle, but I couldn’t tell you if that means we blend in or disappear completely. Though I’m not sure there’s a difference. At least right now we’re all loners by default. I text Wes to tell him I’m too busy to text right now and that he can send me the song later—even though I really don’t want to hear it at all.