At any rate, Amelia’s concern lacked authenticity, given that this was the first time we’d even spoken at length since last Sunday. I had tried to connect with her, but she’d made excuses about being busy. When it came down to it, I doubted anyone was truly concerned for my well-being; their own agendas trumped their loyalty to me.

Amelia narrowed her eyes. “If you say so.”

“Moving on,” I said. “Do you want to catch a movie this week? That new rom-com, Kiss Me, just came out. It looks super cute.” With the way things were going, I could definitely use the escapism of a happily ever after with a side of movie theater popcorn and giant bag of candy.

“Um…I don’t know.” She looked away, setting her mug down. “I’m pretty busy with this group project I have for Developmental Psych, plus there’s a game on Tuesday night. And I think I might go for dinner with Paul on Thursday. I’m pretty booked. Sorry, B.”

“Okay. How about we do something tomorrow or Wednesday then?” I took a bite of my cereal, finishing the last of it and debating whether she would judge me for drinking the strawberry milk from the bowl. Then I did it anyway, because I no longer cared.

She fidgeted with the sleeve of her yellow sweater, picking off a piece of lint with her gold-painted nails. “I have to work on that project then too.”

Uh-huh.

Fine. I would ask Zara and Noelle.

“Is this about me and Luke?” I asked, setting down the bowl. “Breakups aren’t contagious, Amelia. You can still hang out with me.”

“No…” She trailed off, wincing. There was a long pause before she continued. “It’s just that Paul is really pissed about the whole Carter thing.”

What on earth? Who the hell was Paul to be angry with me for anything? We were barely even friends.

“Who I hang out with is none of Paul’s business. Like, literally zero percent.”

“He sees it as being disloyal to the team.” Amelia took a sip of coffee, hiding behind the gigantic mug so she didn’t have to meet my eyes.

I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t realize I was a part of the team. Which position do I play?”

“You know what I mean,” she said. “Luke is one of his best friends.”

And I was supposed to be one of hers.

“But it’s fine for Luke to be disloyal to me as a person?” I snorted. “To dump me on my birthday, after having probably cheated on me again? I don’t see anyone giving him grief.”

Of course they wouldn’t. He was team captain; practically their god. It was a high school clique dynamic to a T, and he was the ringleader. Then it hit me: Luke was the mean girl of the Bulldogs. He was Regina George. On skates.