“And anyway, there’s nothing wrong with being fat,” Cass says. “Which I have also—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve told me, you’ve told me.” Ryan squats down to ruffle Cass’s hair. She reaches up for him, and the two of them unbalance each other, tip to the side, and go sprawling to the floor. Ryan squawks, “My camera!” rolling away from Cass, hunched over the thing with panicked urgency.

“So-orry,” Cass says. “You started it, though.”

Ryan doesn’t say anything.

“Hey,” Cass tries again, softer this time. “Is the camera okay?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” Cass smiles and reaches out an arm for Ryan. He goes to curl up at her side, but before he does, he unloops the camera from his neck and puts it carefully out of everyone’s way. Lulu gets up to go pour herself some water, and the least mature part of her wants to step on it—to see what he would do if something in his life ever actually went wrong.

CHAPTER THIRTY

LULU SNEAKS INTO Cass’s room this time. It hasn’t been that long since everyone trooped off to bed, but Cass is already asleep, curled around her pillow. Her face is surrounded by waves of her hair, the gold and crimson of them turned pale by the moonlight. Lulu is about to leave again when Cass stirs. She blinks one eye open, sees Lulu, and then closes it again. She makes a noise that sounds like an invitation.

Still, Lulu is careful when she climbs into bed. Cass reaches one arm out across their bodies. She rests her hand on Lulu’s belly.

“Do you like my body?” Lulu hates herself for asking the question. “You know. The way it is now.” She knows that Cass will say yes no matter what she actually believes, and that even when she says it, it won’t make Lulu feel any better. People have been telling her that she’s thin her whole life and it’s never made her feel like what she imagines a thin person feels like. Which is mostly: someone who doesn’t have to ask this question.

“I was asleep,” Cass responds. And then, a little less harshly, “I think you’re so beautiful.”

“Oh—” Lulu says. She feels guilty. Stop being too much, she commands herself, but she doesn’t know how to do that. She never, ever has. “I—I’ll leave before everyone wakes up.”

“S’not what I said at all,” Cass mumbles.

“I know. But still. I will.”

Cass is half submerged in sleep again. She nudges her nose impatiently against Lulu’s collarbone. “Don’t—hiding,” she says. “Silly. Unless you’re ashamed of me. Are you, Lu?”

“Not you,” Lulu says. She kisses the top of Cass’s head. “Not—no.”

“Very beautiful, asshole,” Cass mumbles, and breathes out a long sigh that fades into the slow, even rhythm of her sleeping breath.