Nothing really seems to be happening, but everything matters. We watch YouTube on the gigantic TV, one video leading to the next, from silly to gross, unpredictable to funny and back again. People call out vids, take over, type in their favorites. I laugh loudly and throw out a couple of corny jokes. I relax, sort of. I drink a beer handed to me and try not to worry that they’ll find my channel, which I keep pretty secret from my real life. I wonder if Lottie has ever mentioned it, or if she will. I mean, not that I’m hiding it, but I don’t publicize it to anyone else in my real life. What would they say if they learned I have a super-geeky cinephile channel that I’ve been operating since I was twelve? I sip my beer and keep my eye on the exit. People scream and laugh. Someone spills a beer on a rug, and Paige freaks out, and there is momentary drama. I catch Lottie’s eye and she laughs and shrugs, and so do I. Easy peasy.

Breanne is there. She’s Paige’s best friend, I guess, but sometimes it’s hard to tell. She is the unspoken grand pooh-bah of this gang. Paige is more like her second in command than her friend, it seems.

“You look different,” I hear her say to Paige, who kind of freezes.

“What do you mean?”

Breanne purses her lips and cocks her head. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just tired.”

Paige’s hand goes to her face. She is pale and delicate and looks like you could blow her over.

“Or maybe it’s just me!” Breanne laughs. “God, I have been up for practice like every morning at five.”

Breanne is on the rowing team. Her toned arms, sun-kissed hair, and freckled face—she’s like Athlete Barbie. Sometimes she arrives in the cafeteria with her teammates after a competition, laughing loudly and cheering. They’re celebrities.

Paige smiles weakly and asks if anyone wants anything. Lottie swallows the end of her beer and raises the can, shaking it back and forth. She is so comfortable here. Not like—

“Stevie?” I hear someone say, and I look around and it’s Breanne, smiling, and everyone is laughing. I didn’t hear what she said, but I laugh, too, taking a sip of beer, feeling my face go red to my ears.