As I’m closing the closet door, I notice a mauve silk robe hanging under a towel. I would normally never wear something like that in front of the whole school, but what the hell? I’m already nominated for prom queen. And it reminds me of Grammy. I could use some Grammy courage right about now.

I pull on the robe, which I quickly discover is more polyester than silk, and tie the sash tight at my waist.

“What the hell?” says the girl who was on the phone, but who is now tucked into bed, watching Frozen on TV.

“Don’t I look fabulous?” I ask.

She shrugs and nods.

“I hope you feel better,” I say as I close the door behind me.

“Thanks!” she calls.

In the living room, Willowdean and Ellen are standing on the coffee table in T-shirts and underwear; Willowdean’s reads Tuesday on the butt. She’s a little bit of a mess, but I feel seen, to be honest. “Two doors down, we’re laughing and drinking and having a party,” they sing.

Tucker waves me over to where he sits on the floor. Hannah and Clem sit beside him on the couch, squeezed onto one cushion. “I like your sister,” he says.

“I like your . . . friend,” Clem says.

I narrow my gaze, but she keeps bopping her head along to the music.

My fingers are splayed out on the carpet between me and Tucker, and I watch from the corner of my eye as he inches his hand closer.

The song finishes, and Alex takes the microphone from Willowdean and Ellen.

“Awww, come on!” they say. “One more.”

“I fear those two have discovered karaoke for the first time,” says Hannah, “and now there’s no going back.”

“I love the legendary Dolly Parton as much as anyone, but that was your third song in a row. Time to pass the mic,” Alex says.

Before the words are even out of his mouth, Kyle yanks the microphone away from him. “Me, me, me, me!”

My spine goes ramrod straight as I feel Tucker loop his pinkie finger over mine.

I want to look. I want to see what our nearly intertwined fingers look like together, but I’m scared that if I even breathe, he’ll move.

Kyle takes the coffee-table stage, kicking his mom’s basket of potpourri to the side, and breaks into a very passionate rendition of Taylor Swift’s “You Need to Calm Down,” which is honestly pretty edgy for him and I’m a little bit impressed.

Before long, the living room is shouting along with him, and when the song ends, he lets himself free-fall onto the couch, where Clem and Alex catch him. And all the while, Tucker’s pinkie finger stays right where it is.

“Who’s next?” Alex asks from underneath Kyle.

“Pumpkin!” screams Kyle.