This year’s theme is Hollywood Nights, and there is an actual red carpet rolled out for us. At the start of the carpet is a sign that reads THANK YOU TO OUR SPONSOR, JED’S CARPET! Inside, we hand over our tickets, which were actually the perk of being a nominee. Everyone else had to cough up eighty bucks for this evening of elegance. There are balloon arches and cardboard cutouts of Hollywood stars like Robert Pattinson, The Rock, Beyoncé, Jennifer Aniston, Cardi B, and Homer Simpson, which I’m guessing generated a heated discussion among the decoration committee.

While we wait in line for pictures, more people than I’ve ever met in my life come up to say hi to me and Hannah.

“I feel like I’m at my own funeral,” Hannah says between hellos.

“Or wedding,” Clem offers. “Less morbid.”

Tucker and Melissa are three groups ahead of them, and being a tall, fat ginger in heels makes hiding from them impossible, so instead I turn my back.

“Is he looking?” I ask Clem.

“That depends. Do you want him to be looking?”

“Clem, just answer me.” My stomach flip-flops.

She cranes her neck around me. “It’s hard to say. He’s definitely looking . . . around.”

A group of girls in what appears to be different variations of the same dress wave as they pass us. A shorter girl with narrow shoulders and heavy hips doubles back to whisper, “We totally voted for y’all!”

“Eeee!” Clementine claps and lets out a little shriek as Hannah and I eye each other with hesitant excitement.

“Okay, y’all, listen up. Pep-talk time.” Clementine claps her hands atop each of our shoulders, like we’re huddling up at the big game or whatever. “You’re both my favorite people. Shhh. Don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

“Or Grammy,” I add.

Clem shakes her head. “Grammy doesn’t count. She’s a deity. Grandma Camile, too.”

Hannah nods. “Fair.”

“Now, listen up, team, you’re both already royalty, and if you don’t win, it will be the injustice of the decade, but the ones losing out will be them, not you. Because this is only one night in a long line of great ones for both of y’all, but for some of these people, seeing y’all win might be the most epic thing they ever see. Tonight is just our warm-up, babes.”

“Okay.” I let myself believe her completely. It’s terrifying.

We’re a tangle of limbs as the three of us squeeze in for a hug. Maybe being the third wheel isn’t so bad after all.

The photographer directs Hannah and Clementine to step in front of the backdrop under a gold-and-silver balloon arch.

“Wait a minute!” Clem says as she reaches for my hand. “I need both my dates in this picture.”

“Clem, it’s fine. Really.”