Me. A 5K. Not a marathon, but still—this was hilarious.

Oscar would want to be there. Pre-debut Oscar. Not giant face on a banner Oscar or locked in a room Oscar or whoever he’d be when all of this shook out.

Jules looked heart-piercingly relieved. “Grams is going to be at the finish line if she can get out of work, but . . . yeah. It’ll be good to have a friend there too.”

She’s lonely, I realized with a lurch. I think Jules has been lonely her entire life.

I crossed the room in two strides to give her a hug. She laughed, shoving me away, but as she ducked into the hall, I saw her face soften back into a six-year-old at one of our first slumber parties, whispering princess dreams to me in the glow from her night-light.

I turned my phone over in my hand, thoughts swirling uselessly, then typed a text to Oscar—Hey

I need a minute Ruby, he wrote back.

“Okay,” I said, but didn’t type it.

•   •   •

Two movies down, neither a romance. I’d texted Dad to let him know where I’d be spending the night, triple-checked I hadn’t missed a reply from Oscar, then put my phone out of sight.

“You think you’re special, Max,” the villain snarled on the screen. “Nobody’s special.”

I picked at my shrimp fried rice with my chopsticks, eating one grain at a time. I looked up to see Jules’s eyes darting away, then back.

“So . . .” Her mouth bunched up, debating her words. “Is this a breakup?”

“What? No.” I gripped my chopsticks tight. “It’s a . . . freak-out.”

She nodded.

“A selfish one. Oscar’s the one dealing with real issues. I’m just a spoiled—”

“You’re not even remotely oppressed, no, but you’re still allowed to feel what you’re feeling.”

I stared at my food, less than convinced.

“So how do you feel?” she asked gently. “Obviously not hungry.”

My chopsticks slid out of my hand and into the carton, giving up the ghost.

“Okay, fun therapy game.” Jules clapped. “I’m going to throw words out and you tell me if any of them are right. Um . . . angry.”

I shrugged.

“Restless.”

Not really.

“Irritated.”

Getting there.

“Phlegmatic.”

I laughed.

“Making sure you’re paying attention. Jealous.”

I drew in a breath.

Jules frowned at me for a second. “I spend, like, ninety percent of my day feeling jealous, Ruby. It’s okay as long as you don’t let it get out of control. It’s just something you navigate until you can find your way out of it.”