Later that evening, I was in the kitchen pulling a mug out of the cupboard to make tea with when the doorbell rang. Footsteps sounded, so I didn’t bother answering the door. I wasn’t expecting any deliveries, but because of Jillian’s online shopping addiction, we received packages several times a week. Sometimes it seemed like she was single-handedly keeping Amazon afloat.

I opened a new box of tea bags, selecting a chamomile-orange blend. Amelia rushed past while I grabbed the kettle from the stove and filled my lucky green mug.

The door squeaked as she swung it open. “Hey,” she said, voice a little too bright to be natural. Clearly, it was not the UPS truck like I’d thought.

There was a chorus of replies as several voices greeted her in response, including one all-too-familiar male voice. Mid-pour, I glanced up and missed the mug, nearly scalding myself in the process. There stood Paul and Mendez—with Luke and Sophie in tow.

Apparently, Amelia and Jillian had invited people over without letting me know. Or including me. Not that I would have joined in.

Then I realized: it was a freaking triple date. Couples’ night at our house.

And Luke’s attendance was payback for earlier.

To add insult to injury, I was in scrubby loungewear; old gray sweats and a baggy concert tee, the kind of thing you only wear at home without company. My hair was in loose, messy waves around my shoulders. I was the picture of unkempt and decidedly not prepared to see my ex with his brand-new girlfriend.

I froze for a moment, wanting to die and cry at the same time. Self-preservation kicked in. I grabbed my mug and bolted straight upstairs. After I’d shut my bedroom door, I leaned against it, breathing heavily, my heart rate exceeding any normal, healthy upper limit. Laughter echoed upstairs through the heating vent beside my desk. They proceeded to talk boisterously in the living room like everything was completely normal. But none of this was normal, at least not to me.

Was it too late to transfer schools? Even Boyd had to be better than dealing with this. Okay, maybe not. The Falcons were still a pretty tough sell.

Sophie had Luke, and while that stung, it hurt more that she was taking over my old life. My place. My role. She stepped right in and replaced me, like we were interchangeable puzzle pieces.

I didn’t really miss Luke, but I missed the sense of belonging, like I was part of the group. And I definitely did not enjoy my new social-outcast status.

Over on my desk, my cell lit up. I set my tea next to it, my heart doing an unhappy ka-thunk when I saw the message.