“Yeah, for sure,” I say quickly, then pause, picking at a thread on her comforter. I have been nervously looking forward to it all week. I’ve never been to Paige’s before, but the way she says it, I kind of wonder if Lottie has been there already. The hierarchy of the high school status system is always shifting on me lately, and Paige is definitely higher on the ladder than either of us. I try to make up some ground. “I didn’t know you were, too,” I say. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, she asked me ages ago,” Lottie says, turning back. “She told me to make sure to invite you.”

I nod and look at an old Dolly Parton album. “Yeah, no, she already told me. A while ago, actually.” Tit. Tat.

We don’t say anything for a bit, just listen to the record reach its end, the needle skipping over and over with a tic tic tic until Lottie gets up and presses the return button. The needle moves sleepily to its start position and I wonder when they were hanging out without me, what they were doing. I picture Paige telling Lottie to invite me, and wonder if it really was ages ago, and how long exactly.

We just started hanging out with Paige and her friends a few weeks ago. At one of the school dances, Lottie and I were standing like ninth-grade nerds off to the side, near the exit, when Paige walked in from outside and kind of lurched into us, spilling some Coke from a bottle she was carrying.

“Oops!” She laughed, while I shook out my sleeve. She smelled like booze, so I figured it wasn’t actually Coke. Breanne Davis called her over from a few feet away, where she was standing with a bunch of guys. Paige ignored her and came up really close to me with a pained look on her pretty face. “I am so sorry,” she said, her voice solemn. Lottie laughed, but not meanly, and Paige looked at her shyly and said, “Do you guys want some?”

“What the hell,” I said, and Lottie stared at me, surprised. I shrugged, taking a pull of the bottle. She grabbed it from me and did the same.