“Right. I, uh, feel you.”

She smiles at me with such warmth I almost return it. “Okay well, if you want, you can just go to the link in my bio—you follow me on Instagram right?”

“Right,” I repeat. I don’t add that she never followed me back. Now is not the time to be petty.

“Cool cool cool,” she says, bouncing her head in beat with every word. “There’s also a little discount if you use my code, INTHERAINIE. It’s the same as my handle—”

“Sorry,” I interrupt, unable to help myself and my irrational need to care about people who very likely don’t care much about me. “But it’s just—earlier, I couldn’t help overhearing... Are you—is everything okay?”

Rainie stills for a moment, her expression inscrutable. Then she tilts her lovely head back and laughs, long and loud and breathless. “Oh my god, that. Girl, I was only practicing my lines for this role I’m auditioning for. My agent wants me to like, branch out, give acting a shot—all the idols are doing it these days, you know—and it’s meant to be a secret but”—she leans in and drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper—“I hear Xiao Zhan is up for the male lead.” She steps back, her grin widening. “I mean, how great would that be?”

“Oh,” is all I can think to say, confusion and embarrassment swirling inside me. Could she be telling the truth? Yet her sobs earlier sounded so real—and what she said on the phone...

Maybe Rainie sees the uncertainty flicker over my expression, because she gives my arm a squeeze and says, with another laugh, “Trust me, my life is not that dramatic. You’re sweet for being concerned, though. I mean, now that I think of it, it’s so weird we don’t hang out more, you know? I bet we’d have a great time.”

And suddenly I understand why everyone at our school loves Rainie Lam so much. It’s not just that she’s gorgeous, since basically all the girls in my year level are pretty in one way or another (Mama always says there are no ugly women, only lazy women—but from what I’ve gathered, it’s more like there are no ugly women, only broke women); it’s how she makes you feel when you’re around her, like you’re someone who matters. Like you have a special bond with her even if you’ve never exchanged more than a few sentences before. It’s a rare talent, the kind you can’t acquire through sheer determination and hard work.

Jealousy wraps its cold claws around my throat and squeezes, hard. And I find myself wishing, not for the first time, that I wasn’t always so acutely aware of the things I lack.

“Um, Alice?” Rainie peers at me. “You okay?”

If Rainie is a convincing actress, then I’m a terrible one. My thoughts are probably written all over my face.

“Of course,” I say, forcing myself to smile. The effort is close to painful. “But anyway, yeah, that all sounds good. As long as you’re—it’s great.” I angle my body toward the door, more than ready to leave this strange conversation and the stench of disinfectant behind me. “I should probably get back to class, though. Good luck with your auditions and everything.”