Angi rolled her eyes. “Don’t go there, you guys. Come on.”

“It’s all fun and games,” Sara said. “By the way, your mom came into the salon the other day and spilled the beans that you were going on a date with Artie.”

“No way.” Now Brandon laughed so hard he started wheezing. “No way would RPC go out with that loser.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Artie. He’s a decent human being, which is more than I can say for some people.” She narrowed her eyes at Brandon. “And enough with the nickname. It was obnoxious when we were kids. It’s offensive now.” Of course, she hadn’t had the greatest time with Artie. She didn’t think of him as more than a friend, and even that was a stretch.

“Roly Poly Cannoli and Artie Caferno.” Sara scoffed. “Come on, Ang. Even you haven’t sunk that low.”

Angi blew out a breath as her temper spiked. How could she have been friends with people like this? In truth, she’d worked her butt off in high school to worm her way into the popular clique. Sara had been the undisputed queen bee of their grade. Angi had literally worked her butt off, losing nearly thirty pounds between freshman and sophomore year so that she could finally try out for the cheerleading squad.

And she’d done it. Just like some retro teenybopper movie, she’d made herself into what the cool kids wanted her to be. She’d dated a guy on the football team and been nominated to homecoming court. Everything she’d thought she wanted.

She’d lost other things in the process, including her special summer friendship with Gabe Carlyle. Now she realized what a bad judge of character she’d been. When she’d returned to Magnolia, her old friends had wanted very little to do with her and the feeling was mutual.

In many respects, she was as much a misfit now as her son. Or as she used to be. But there was a difference. She’d stopped giving a damn about the so-called popular cliques and their indiscriminate judgment.

“Artie is a great guy. He’s smart and funny, and the woman who ends up with him is going to be lucky. It’s just not me.”

“It’s embarrassing, Angi.” Sara scrunched up her pert little nose and gave a mock shudder. “Even for a woman in your situation.”

Angi opened her mouth to offer some brilliant retort. Instead, the backs of her eyes stung with the telltale sign of potential tears. She could not let these jerks from her teenage years reduce her to tears. But it wasn’t just them and their petty cruelty. It was the guilt her mom dispensed like holy water on a Sunday morning in church mixed with the cold splash of disappointment at the way her life was unfolding, worry over Andrew and plain old exhaustion.

Her gaze caught on Sara’s, and her former best friend’s crystal-blue eyes took on a sharp glint, like a shark that smelled blood in the water and was primed for the kill.